Page 57 of Kill the Beast
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me,” Alderic said with a sharpness that surprised her. “You are prepared to lay down your life to kill the Beast, atmybehest. If you want to stay in the nicest room in the city before you do it, it is my responsibility to see it taken care of, in any way that I can, regardless of what you think of me afterwards.”
“I’m not doing this for you,” she said, bristling, and—damn her—there was that urge to tell him everything, again. To bare her soul in a way she hadn’t done in years.
But Alderic saved her from herself by saying, “Right. You want to be a legend. Well, the King’s Suite of the Plaza Alstroemeria is undoubtedly fit for a legend.”
There was a moment of angry silence, pierced only by the grind of the lift’s slow-moving gears, until Lyssa couldn’t stand it any longer.
“I’m surprised you didn’t just offer to take me dress shopping,” she snapped.
“I would have, if you’d asked me to,” Alderic replied, glancing at her sidelong. “But you didn’t. And, anyway, you shouldn’t have to change anything about yourself, if you don’t want to. This is a hotel, not the palace.”
“They certainly seem to think they’re royalty,” she muttered, and he snorted in response, the tension between them easing a little.
Lyssa was still angry with him. Alderic was right—she didn’t need anyone to defend her, least of all him, and she resented him for the grotesque display of wealth that had just occurred. But a not-insignificant part of her felt strangely pleased that he accepted her exactly as she was, regardless of what anyone else thought of her.
Stop it,she scolded herself, annoyed by the persistent affection that just wouldn’t die.
The lift gates slid open, and she stalked out into the hallway.
Their suites were a joined pair, connected by a door of rich dark wood, carved with a stag on the King’s side and a doe on the Queen’s.
“Yours is… nice,” Lyssa said as she and Alderic inspected the rooms. Hers was almost comical in its masculinity, with its chocolate-brown-and-gold wallpaper, heavy-handed gold ornamentation, and trompe l’oeil ceiling that gave the illusion of a temple dome. It reeked of self-importance. Alderic’s, on the other hand, was all pretty pastels with white trim, lace curtains on the windows and embroidered damask surrounding the four-poster bed.
“It is, isn’t it?” Alderic said, seeming completely satisfied with his choice. He set his pack down on the padded bench at the foot of the bed, and Lyssa set hers on the carved armchair by her fireplace.
“What an interesting door,” he said, standing on the threshold between their rooms and inspecting the doe on his side.
“It’ll stay closed, of course,” Lyssa said.
“Of course,” he replied, then turned to regard her with a gaze far too piercing for her liking. “Explain something to me, Carnifex. If you hate money so much, why did you want to stay here, of all places?”
She stiffened. “That,” she said, “is none of your business.”
His gaze only sharpened, as if he were ready to cut into the meat of her, pull her apart, and examine her inner workings. “Fairenough. But your Hound-killing fee is certainly my business, and, as I am sure you will remember, it is quite substantial. Now that I have gotten to know you better, I find it hard to believe that you are charging me your typical rate.”
“Having second thoughts?” she teased.
“I do not begrudge you a single shilling,” he said. “But it is a hypocrisy I don’t understand.”
She shrugged. “Iron and steel aren’t free, Al.”
“They also don’t cost more than most people will ever see in a lifetime.”
Lyssa hesitated. She had thought she was done sharing anything of herself with Alderic, but the desire to confide in him was irritatingly persistent. Maybe if she told him this one small thing, it would ease the strain of keeping the rest of her locked away. “Overcharging the people who can afford it means doing jobs for free for those who can’t, without taking food out of our mouths,” she said. “If by some miracle the Beast doesn’t kill me, I’ll be able to help a lot of people with your money. And if Idoend up in the ground afterwards, well… at least I’ll know Rags and Nadia will be okay without me.”
Alderic blinked at her, as if that were the last answer he had expected. “Why, Carnifex,” he said finally. “I hadn’t realized you were so…altruistic.” His tone was meant to belittle her, but there was something stricken in the way he was looking at her that he couldn’t quite hide. When he raked his fingers through his hair, his hand was trembling. “You know, a lot of people made you out to be a coldhearted shrew, but then you go and tell me things like that, or almost get yourself killed because a mermaid dared to hurt your dog, and I…” He stopped himself. Glared at her like she had gravely offended him. “It’s incredibly frustrating.”
“My sincerest apologies for disappointing you,” she offered, and he blew out a ragged breath that might have been a laugh. “I didn’t realize that my personality would be such a problem for you.”
“Neither did I.” He dug around in his coat pocket and tossedher a coin purse, fat and heavy in her hand. “There. Is that enough for your magic metals?”
She unclasped it and peered inside. The pouch was filled with gold coins of varying size—she could buy everything in the entire shop, and likely have plenty left over. But the wretched look on his face unnerved her, and she said, “I don’t know. You’d better come with me, just in case.”
Now he did laugh, but it was entirely without humor, as if he knew what she was doing and resented her for thinking he would fall for it. “I have business of my own to attend to tomorrow,” he said. “So you’ll just have to make do with what I gave you.”
“What business?”
