Page 10 of The Gambler's Prize
After breakfast, I show him around the house and outbuildings. It doesn’t take long. I just have a few chickens, and a small vegetable patch with unfamiliar produce. It doesn’t support any of the vegetables we would eat back in Rhennes, since it’s too hot and dry here. Florian looks around gamely, trying to take an interest. He’s been brought up with Rhennian high society manners, always helpful in hiding true feelings. He thinks the place is a dump, but I’ll never catch the thought flash across his face.
“You have a very nice place here, Boss,” he lies at the end of the tour. “Er… it’s a little lonely, though, isn’t it? Are there any neighbors around?”
“There’s another house along there about a mile.” I jerk my chin in the direction of Breta’s place.
Florian brightens noticeably. Unconsciously he starts fixing his hair, moistening his pillowy lips as though he’s about to enter a beauty parade. Those lips look like he sleeps with them wrapped in moisturizing oil and honey. He probably does.
“Oh yes? And who lives there?” he asks, pretending to be casual.
“Breta and her daughters.”
“Daughters?” His eyes light up with hope. “How old? Available?”
I’m absolutely delighted to quash that light in his eyes.
“Not available to you, Florian.”
“We’ll see about that,” he says.
“No, we won’t. Your reputation precedes you, and Breta is very protective. I don’t want her putting a musket ball in that busy little ass of yours.”
He pretends to be all shocked, pouting at my non-minced words. “Boss, is that any way to talk to your loyal and devoted servant?”
Devoted? He puked his guts out last night at the idea of being stuck with me for two years. I know the nausea wasn’t all down to alcohol.
“I think it’s the perfect way, when that servant is you,” I say. “Anyway, I’ll be working you so hard you won’t have energy to think about putting any part of yourself where it doesn’t belong.”
He bites his lip, head on one side. He has the move down to a fine art. His blue eyes rake over my face.
“You’re so fierce, Boss,” he breathes. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
He might be an enemy, but my body doesn’t care. That flash of submission from such a pretty face has its effect. My cock stirs. I clench my thigh muscles, determined not to allow Lord Florian any kind of influence over my groin region.
“Flirt with me again, and I break your arm,” I say.
He steps back, looking alarmed. “Sorry. Bad habit of mine. I didn’t mean any harm. Just something to brighten the day.”
“Well, it doesn’t brightenmyday. So cut it out.”
My body’s reaction was galling, but it doesn’t mean anything. It’s only because he’s an attractive man. And stars, doesn’t he know it. I wonder if he’s serious about pursuing Breta’s daughter. Possibly. I know from my investigations that he isn’t fussy about gender when it comes to satisfying his urges. I doubt he’d be interested in her long-term, probably wanting to aim higher than a gold prospector’s daughter. That wouldn’t stop him taking some momentary pleasure there. I’ll never understand people like him. People who can divorce that kind of pleasure from their emotions.
“Come on, I’ll show you the outhouse,” I say.
He wrinkles his nose. I can’t blame him on this one. I miss Rhennes’ indoor plumbing too. Only a few houses there have indoor bathrooms, but I used to work in one of the finest houses in the whole city as a coachman.
I know Florian hates my place here in Galbrava, almost as much as he hates me. To him it’s just a ramshackle old hovel in the middle of the desert, with half-broken furniture and cracked windowpanes, crying out for ten different repair jobs. I couldn’t afford to waste money prettying up the place. Every penny I save is earmarked for building my boxing gym. Icouldtell him what it’ll look like when the gym is finally open and I have my first customers. Coaches and carts rolling up to spill out eager students. Laughter and friends greeting each other, the energy of competition, learning, excelling. I don’t. My dream is safe in my head and I don’t want the spoiled rich boy laughing at it and telling me it’s impossible. He’s the hired help, not a confidant.
Chapter 5
Florian
I’ve never yet met a person I can’t win over. But with Grimes, I’m starting to wonder if it’s hopeless. Even my famous breakfast eggs only earned a temporary thaw, and then it was back to that icy steel façade laced with contempt. The man seems to hate me. I understand his derision. He shouldn’t have any respect for me after my idiotic display of recklessness last night. But why the animosity that feels personal? That’s what I can’tfigure out. And if he dislikes me so much, why does he even want me to work for him? He’s made it clear he thinks I’m a prize fool.
I haven’t dared to ask what I’ll get paid. It’ll be something—the authorities in Galbrava are careful not to condone outright slavery—but it’ll be a pittance. With Grimes covering my food and board, I’ll survive. But it won’t be a fun two years. Especially not with him growling at me and making sly digs all the time.Doeshe hate me? There’s no reason for him to. Now that I’m sober, I’ve racked my brain until I have a headache, trying to remember if I’ve ever met him before. I keep coming up blank. I’m almost certain he’s a stranger, though it’s hard to be absolutely sure with that hood covering half of his face all the time. Maybe there’s a simple explanation for his behavior. Maybe he’s just this much of an asshole to everyone.
We’re walking into town after breakfast to get my things. Grimes doesn’t have a horse, and I guess not even a donkey and cart. So I suppose I’m going to be doing a lot of walking from now on. It’ll be good for my health. I’m excellent at finding bright sides, but something tells me living with Grimes is going to challenge that skill to the maximum. It’s hot and unpleasant on the unpaved path, and it’s still only six thirty in the morning. My best breeches are ruined, russet-red dust ingrained in the delicate pale fabric. My white shirt has yellow sweat stains under the armpits that no amount of soap will clean. Hot Galbrava sun prickles on my pale skin. I can’t wait to grab a hat from my boarding house to shade my face. Grimes seems oblivious to the heat, still in that dark cloak with the hood up. He trudges on with a long stride, assuming I’ll keep up with him. I force myself to stay at his side even if I have to jog. Lagging behind would make me feel even more like a pet than I already do.
“Boss?” I say.
