Midnight Jewel (The Glittering Court #2)(28)

“You want . . . you want Adelaide to be a spy?”

“The correct term is ‘asset,’” he said. “Someone who gathers information for a spy. Can you talk to her for me?”

“No. I don’t want Adelaide involved in anything dangerous.”

“All she has to do is watch and listen at all those fancy balls and dinners.”

“No.”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine, then why don’t we just forget about all this and be on our respective ways. I’m sure we each have important things to do—some of us more so than others.” I didn’t believe he’d give up on her so easily, but before I could call him out, he asked, “And how much money will it take to keep you quiet?”

I froze. “Money? How . . . much are you offering?”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. Two gold.”

A crazy idea began forming in the back of my mind. “I need two hundred.”

“Two hundred? I barely have five to my name. And if I did have two hundred, I wouldn’t give it to you.”

I pointed at the journal. “But you’ll get that huge reward for solving the case.”

“I won’t get it. Silas controls it. Then there’ll be other expenses to compensate. But a little silence isn’t worth two hundred. Not even an asset is.”

“Were you going to pay Adelaide? How much?”

“To be determined,” he said flatly.

“Look, you’re right about her being the best at the Glittering Court. She earned that diamond title. But this—this sneaking around? Subterfuge, gathering information, and all that? It’s not in her nature. I’m the one you want.”

I braced myself for one of his biting remarks, but when he spoke, his tone held . . . well, not respect, exactly. But a little less sarcasm. “I’ll give you points for subterfuge. And you’re resourceful. You’ve certainly taught me a lesson about not using heat-sensitive inks.” He touched one of the scratches on his face and winced. “And to take your threats seriously. I can’t imagine if you’d had the knife.”

I pulled the blade out. “I do have it.”

He stepped forward to study it more closely. “Can it even cut anything?”

“Come closer and find out.”

That brought a smile. Not a trusting one, by any means. But it was appreciative. “Her scores will get her into places you can’t go.”

“I don’t need good scores to get into places,” I said, looking around the cabin meaningfully. “I’ve got skills no other girl here has.”

“And you’ve also got a Sirminican name. None of the others belong to a group that most Osfridians see as deceitful, dark-skinned heretics that are filling the capital’s streets and stealing everything they can get their dirty hands on.”

The breath seemed to leave my body, and I took a threatening step forward. “You don’t know anything about us!”

“Don’t hit me again,” he said, and I realized I’d started to raise my hand. “I didn’t say I see it that way. But I’m telling you how others will. And don’t act like you haven’t already felt it.”

A little of my rage faded. “Yes.”

“You’ll see it again. It’s how a lot of them are—especially anyone in Cape Triumph who was born in Osfrid. Trust me, I know firsthand how this works.” He studied me even more intently this time. “But you are scrappy. And maybe you could make headway with some of the longtime colonials. They aren’t always so small-minded, not after surviving there that long.”

Now I studied him, trying to read his intentions. “Does that mean . . . are you giving me the asset job?”

“I’m considering it. And that’s mostly because I’m tired, and you’ve worn me down.” Grudgingly, he added, “And . . . it might be useful if you could pick a few locks at those parties you’ll be at.”

Excitement surged in me—and not just for the money. There was an allure to being part of the fabled McGraw Agency. Not part of it, I supposed. More like . . . a hired contractor. But still. I’d be doing something greater than dressing up for parties. I’d be continuing the family legacy of fighting injustice—but it’d be on my terms, not my father’s.

And Lonzo . . . if I could earn some gold of my own, I wouldn’t have to stress about my husband paying the bond. And if I could earn a lot of gold, I could pay off my own contract. I wouldn’t need a husband at all. The thought made me giddy.

But those were big “ifs.” And I didn’t have any gold yet.

“I can do more than spy,” I said. “All my accents are good. You can teach me to disguise myself, and you’ve seen how I fight. I’ve used a sword and—”

“Whoa, whoa.” He held up his hands. “Slow down, buccaneer. I don’t need to teach you any of that. I do that. Well, not the sword part. I need you to observe. I need you to distract men so that they say stupid things and give in to what you want. Can you do that?”

A little of my enthusiasm dimmed, and suddenly, it was like working for my father again. Fighting injustice by being a pretty face. By distracting. By offering myself.

But, Lonzo . . .

“If that’s what you want? Yes. But I’m serious—don’t underestimate the rest of what I can do. I got in here by learning your habits. And then I broke through your letter’s protection. Sounds a lot like what you need an asset to do.”