The Cogsmith's Daughter (Desertera #1)(69)

“No, nothing. I believe you.” Zedara sighed. “I was just making sure you weren’t backing out on us.”

Aya chuckled. “I would never. I’m sorry, but of the three of us, I think I have the most on the line here.”

Zedara shrugged, a smile creeping over her face. “You’re probably right about that. Then again, my head was just added to the stakes.”

As Aya laughed, a door opened down the hallway that led to King Archon’s chambers. A line of maids and butlers filed out, carrying silver food trays.

“Oh, wonderful. I’m late. Thank you for the update. I’ll see you soon.” Zedara gathered her skirts and rushed down the corridor.

“Stay safe, Zedara.”

The queen smiled back at Aya over her shoulder. “You, too, Aya. You, too.”



*



While Aya appreciated Zedara’s sentiment, it was unnecessary. She had every intention of keeping herself safe and out of sight until the king summoned her again. She continued on her way to Sternville, down the corridor that housed Lord Varick’s estate. For a minute, Aya considered stopping in to inform Lord Varick that their mission was coming to end, especially since the king would probably be sending word for her at Lord Varick’s home. However, the thought of speaking to Lord Varick sent inexplicable shivers down her spine, and Aya decided she felt more secure keeping the knowledge between her and Zedara for now. Besides, King Archon had claimed it would take a few days to arrange everything. Tonight, Zedara could play the despicable wife and secure the king’s intentions, and Aya could return to her hovel and rest. Lord Varick could wait until morning.

Aya hurried down the corridor. It was not very crowded, but every few minutes a butler carrying a tray of food or finely dressed nobles would pass her on the way to their dinners. The servants would not acknowledge her at all—no doubt they were trained to act as if they did not exist—but the nobles nodded and greeted her. She replied in kind, wondering whether they remembered her as Lord Varick’s ward or if she passed as a normal lady in Willem’s mother’s finery. A few of them erupted into whispers once she passed, and she suspected these nobles had seen her with King Archon at the shops—or worse, heard about it secondhand.

As Aya caught sight of Lord Varick’s doorway, she held her breath and tried to tread as lightly as possible. The moment she did so, she blushed, cursing her foolishness. After all, it wasn’t as if Lord Varick would be leaning his ear against the door, waiting to hear her specific footsteps and pounce on her. Still, better safe than sorry. Aya passed the black door as quietly as she could, watching it with wide eyes and craning her neck to keep it in view until she was well down the hallway. When she looked up, Aya had to jump to the side to avoid running into a butler with his hands full of wine bottles.

“Oh, excuse me,” she muttered.

The butler gave a curt nod and kept walking.

After a few more minutes, the stairwell to the Rudder crept into view. Aya scanned the corridor. Empty. Darting down the stairwell, Aya allowed herself to move faster now that she no longer risked encountering any nobles—at least, not any nobles who could admit to spying her in this part of the palace.

Running down the winding stairwell made Aya dizzy, and she took a moment to steady herself at the bottom. She opened the Rudder’s back door slowly, peeking into the workers’ hallway before stepping inside. A woman she didn’t recognize led a merchant into Room V, but once they shut its door, the hallway was empty. If Aya had any doubt that her position at the Rudder was no longer available, the sight of the new girl quashed it. On one hand, the knowledge that she could not go back to her old life made Aya’s chest swell with joy. On the other hand, if she failed her mission and managed to live through it, or if Lord Varick found a way to worm out their deal, Aya would have no way to make a living. The thought sent the air rushing out of her lungs.

Keeping her gaze straight ahead, Aya dashed up the hallway. At the end, she flattened herself against the wall, glancing around the corner to see if anyone was in the front room. Madam Huxley leaned on her desk, and a man—a wellman, judging from his muddy work clothes—stood on the other side, holding out his palm. Three bronze coins sat in his hand.

Madam Huxley raised her arms, shaking them for a second, before pointing to the door. Aya could not make out Madam Huxley’s exact words, but she could guess what they were. If there was one thing Aya could say for Madam Huxley, she did not negotiate when it came to prices. This resulted in great profits for the Rudder, which, of course, the workers never saw.

After a few more moments, Madam Huxley broke out into a yell. “Get out of my establishment, you filthy peasant!”

The man clenched the coins in his fist and raised his hand as if to punch Madam Huxley. However, after a trembling moment and a few words Aya couldn’t hear, the man lowered his fist and walked out of the Rudder. Madam Huxley patted her red hair as if her nerves might be sticking through her scalp.

“You know what I’ve always admired about you, Madam?” Aya asked, stepping out from the hallway.

Madam Huxley started, turned around, and appraised Aya’s noble appearance. “Aya, I’m surprised to see you. What are you talking about?”

“You have never let men push you around. Or women, either. No matter how rich or poor they are, you always control every single relationship.”