The Cogsmith's Daughter (Desertera #1)(5)

“Good morning.” Aya tried to sound cheerful. The baker had her broad back to Aya, and her hands were wrist-deep in the tub of dough she kneaded.

“Good morning, love. I’ll be right with you.”

Aya braced herself. The moment the baker saw her in her plain clothes, without a wedding band, she would know what Aya was.

The baker turned around. “Oh! I’m sorry. I really am, but I can’t sell to you.”

“I know.” Aya sighed. “But I saw the insignia on your door, and I’m hoping that you could donate to me on behalf of Lord Collingwood.”

The baker raised her eyebrows. “And to whom would I be making this donation?”

“Dellwyn Rutt.”

The baker put her messy hands on her hips, creating white marks on her dress. “You, cogsmith’s daughter, are not Dellwyn Rutt.”

Aya blushed. “No, but I live with her, and I am here to fetch her breakfast.”

“And I am meant to trust your word?”

Aya straightened. “Well, you can either have my word, or you can have a word or two with Lord Collingwood.”

The baker wrinkled her forehead, causing flour to sprinkle from her crown to her nose. “Very well, then. You may have those rolls on the windowsill. They’re yesterday’s, so I can’t sell them anyway.”

“Thank you.” Aya took the rolls and stuffed them in the pockets of her cloak. She hoped Mrs. Jack Wellman’s children would be inside when she returned. She didn’t want to hide the rolls down her dress.

The baker sighed and brushed the flour from her face. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, love. It really is a shame to see you like this.”

Aya merely shrugged and left the bakery without another word. If any of the merchants had truly felt bad for her, they would have offered to help her after her father died.

As her consolation prize, Aya rode Dellwyn’s skirt-tails and bartered for favors with her name. Being a woman of the Rudder was shameful, but it did have nice benefits when one fell into the favor of the right lord. Aya understood why men adored Dellwyn so much. She had beautiful dark skin and brilliant white teeth. Her figure was plump, but her waist looked slim in comparison to her ample bosom and wide hips. In contrast, Aya had tanned skin, the color of the Desertera dirt, and while her figure was also curved in proportion, her breasts and hips came in a much smaller size. As one lord had put it—pretty to look at, but not much to play with. While this did sting her ego a bit, Aya didn’t mind being considered boring. As the lord had said, she was pretty enough to attract sufficient clientele to pay her debts, but not enticing enough to be visited over a dozen times a night. She, at least, had never had trouble walking after work.



*



As Aya had hoped, Mrs. Jack Wellman’s children were nowhere in sight when she crossed the border from Portside to Sternville. Lord Collingwood’s guard, however, was still on duty, and she saw him watching her from the other side of the anchor line. Aya did her best to ignore his gaze and continue home in a dignified fashion, which was becoming increasingly difficult under the weight of the jug. Luckily, her hovel was only a few minutes’ walk from the border, and when she pushed open their door, Dellwyn was right there to grab the jug from her.

“What were you thinking?” Dellwyn cradled the glass jug in her arms so Aya could untangle herself from its leather strap. “You know it’s my day to fetch water.”

“Yes,” Aya groaned, rubbing her shoulder. “But I also know how busy you were last night, and I assumed you needed the rest.”

Dellwyn twisted her lips, but she didn’t say anything more. She set the jug on the table, which wobbled a bit under the weight.

“Speaking of which,” Aya continued, pulling the rolls out of her pockets, “your name is worth more than a dozen gold coins.”

Dellwyn’s eyes widened. “Where did you get these?” She took one of the rolls from Aya, running her fingertips over the smooth top before taking a large bite.

“From a bakery in Portside. I saw Lord Collingwood’s badge on the door and thought I’d test his affections for you.” Aya pinched off a chunk of her own roll and popped it in her mouth. The bread was a bit tough to rip and a little chewy, but it still tasted sweet and melted against her hot tongue.

“I wish you wouldn’t have.” Dellwyn took another bite of her roll. “Once word gets back to him about this, he’s going to feel I owe him.”

Aya swallowed her bite slowly. “Then you’ll probably be mad that I used your name to take the palace route to Bowtown, too.”

Dellwyn gasped and tossed a piece of her roll at Aya. It fell into the folds of her cloak, but Aya fished it out of her lap, tilted her head back, and dropped it into her mouth. Dellwyn laughed.

“You are so lucky I enjoy bedding him. If you’d used Lord Derringher’s name, I really would be cross with you. That poor man has no idea what to do with his hands.”

“I will never understand how you enjoy any of it.” Aya bit her lip. “Every single client makes me sick.”

“That’s because you never learned how to do it for fun. It’s different when you do it for yourself.”

Aya shrugged. Dellwyn was probably right. Before working at the Rudder, Aya had never even seen a man naked. She took another bite of her roll.