Hotel Magnifique(15)

An amber-skinned server narrowed her pretty eyes at me. “It’s late for maids to still be in here.”

“Sorry.” I pushed off the stool.

A firm hand touched down on the small of my back, holding me in place. “She’s with me,” said a sharp male voice.

The server startled. She curtsied and darted off.

I stiffened when Bel sidled down beside me and tapped the empty glass. “I take it you liked the juice?”

This morning he was freshly shaved, hair tucked behind his ears. Striking, I admitted. The kind of man that would make most Bézier girls pout their lips.

At the thought, I lowered my gaze. Bel wore the same jacket as before, unbuttoned from throat to collarbone, that chain peeking out. When he caught me looking, I sat back on the stool, my neck heating underneath the constricting lace. The hint of a smile played on his lips.

“Don’t smile at me,” I said, flustered. When his smile grew, I scowled. Enough of this. “I saw your face when you grabbed my signed contract. You said you’d explain your reaction. If something is wrong with it—”

“Not here.”

“So there is something wrong with it.” My pulse jumped. “What is it?”

He brought his mouth to my ear. “I’m planning to show you later.”

“Show me what?”

“What’s your sister like?” He was clearly changing the subject.

“You met her earlier.”

“I want to know more.”

I felt compelled to say something. So I answered. In detail. I told him everything from Zosa’s favorite song to the way she flicked me when I breathed with my mouth open. I pressed my lips together, but the words gathered behind them, pooling like saliva and aching to spill out. So I let them. Tears burned when I compared our life in Aligney to my days in Durc. Stealing from Bézier’s pantry. How I was envious Zosa got to stay home while I scraped my fingers raw at the tannery.

Bel listened without interruption.

“No witty remark this time?”

“I’m sorry you went through all that.”

He actually sounded sincere, which made me fidget. Wanting to switch subjects, I gestured to his switchblade hilt. “What happened to your finger?”

“It was removed,” he answered curtly. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.” I looked him over. He couldn’t be much older himself. “How many suminaires are in the hotel?”

He crossed his arms. “Too many. Where are both your parents from?”

“Verdanne. Where else?”

Blood rushed under my skin when he searched my face. “If your sister hadn’t come, would you still want to be here?”

I tried to say no, that if Zosa hadn’t come, I’d still be in Durc saving for the trip home. But I couldn’t get the words past my tongue.

“Well?” he pressed.

“Yes,” I said, then gasped, because it was true. It didn’t matter whether Zosa was here or not. I was desperately curious about all the places outside the door. Yearning swelled in my chest, but I knew better than to listen to it. It was that same foolish curiosity that brought me to Durc, took us away from everything we knew.

Guilt clawed at me. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms.

“What is it?” Bel asked.

“I was just thinking about my home.”

He leaned in. “You miss it?”

That was an understatement. During the four years we spent in Durc, I lived with a near-constant fear that I’d left behind the one place where I truly belonged. “As soon as this job is over, I’m taking me and my sister back to Aligney.”

“I see,” he said. “Does your sister want to go back?”

“I . . . of course she does.”

He arched a brow. “Have you asked her?”

“Not exactly. I just . . . I . . .” I sputtered, and lost my train of thought as more questions bubbled up, filling my mind until it felt close to bursting. I opened my mouth and said the first thing that came out. “Why did you lie about that orange?”

Bel leaned so close I could feel his breath on my skin and my pulse fluttered. “Our ma?tre tends to be overly concerned with the oranges. I think if he knew you broke one, he’d never let you leave. Now don’t say anything more.”

But the curious candles, the endless magic. The questions felt like knives cutting their way out of my throat. They needed out, now, else I might explode.

This wasn’t me.

I wasn’t secretive, but I was never this forthcoming with a man I barely knew, and certainly didn’t trust. In fact, I never told anyone how hard my life was in Durc. I wasn’t exactly proud of it.

Down the bar, I caught Yrsa’s eye. A thought cropped up. An alchemist’s trade was in potions to alter minds.

“What was in here?” I sniffed the dregs of the juice.

“If you’re to be my hire, I had to know a few things.”

That meant spilling the details of my life was planned. By him.

“You had her drug me?”

“I’m sorry, but there was no way around it. Yrsa usually handles the questioning, too, but I doubt you’d enjoy that option. So I talked her into allowing me the privilege,” he said flatly.