The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(36)
Let Dinah try to find her. Blue knew this quarter far better than Dinah did.
Better yet, let Dinah realize the truth: there was no coin stashed away. Nothing to help Blue hire a replacement for Papa.
Before the thought of replacing Papa could burrow in, she turned down the second street she came to and headed east, forcing herself to think of nothing but the three addresses she needed to find. She’d deliver the packages. Ask questions of any street children she found. And see if she could figure out where Ana and the little boy had gone.
And maybe, after darkness fell, she’d return to the shop. She didn’t know how she was going to return to the farmhouse. Not with Dinah still inside.
Her heart ached, a bright shaft of pain that stole her breath and brought tears to her eyes, and she blinked them away.
She wasn’t going to be chased away from her home by fear of Dinah’s unreasonable anger. Pepperell needed her. And besides, it was hers. Along with the shop and Grand-mère, it was all she had left.
She could endure the Chauveaus a bit longer. Surely, Dinah would soon grow bored of listening to Jacinthe complain about country living. Or at the very least, grow weary of worrying about a girl and her alchemy shop when she should be running the entire Chauveau quarter and chasing a betrothal to Kellan.
Blue winced as an image of Kellan standing beneath wedding chimes with Jacinthe on his arm filled her mind. Maybe Kellan wasn’t her favorite, but she still couldn’t wish a life with someone as unpleasant as Jacinthe on him. Especially when he’d been kind to Blue even though there was nothing in it for him. Once, she’d believed Kellan was incapable of turning on his charm for any reason other than to somehow benefit himself. Now she wondered just how much of his charm was the truth and how much of it was a shield he wore against the political expectations he faced.
The sky was a dusky purple pricked with stars by the time Blue finished her last delivery to a house on the far side of the Evrard quarter. She’d taken her sweet time, but even though darkness was swiftly falling, she didn’t want to go home. Not yet.
Not when it meant dealing with the Chauveaus.
Instead, she wandered through the well-lit main streets of the Evrard quarter, stepping aside as workers washed the day’s grit from the cobblestones while others climbed iron poles to shine the glass lanterns that hung at regular intervals along the way. When she came to the corner that would lead her back to the Gaillard quarter, she hesitated.
Music poured from the building to her right, a bright, cheerful melody that danced along the air like laughter. She drew in the scent of roasted pork, spiced apples, and shirella wine and found her feet moving in that direction before she’d fully decided she was going inside.
A wall of noise hit her as she opened the pub’s door—the din of voices, the sparkling notes of a violin, and the dull clink of glass mugs against the bar counter to her left. She took a few steps forward, letting the heavy wooden door close behind her with a thunk, and scanned the room for an empty seat.
Square tables with four chairs each surrounded a scarred dance floor on three sides. The fourth edge of the dance floor held a small stage with a pair of violinists in black dresses, their bows flashing as they coaxed a song from the strings. Most of the tables held at least two people, and there were five couples on the dance floor.
For a moment, Blue longed to join them. Dive into the dancing while music and laughter surrounded her. No Dinah. No grief. No accusation waiting to turn her dreams into nightmares. But there were no empty tables. No handy partners standing around hoping a young alchemist would walk into the pub alone and ready to dance.
She’d made a mistake coming here. Instead of offering comfort and distraction, the crowded pub was making her feel more alone than ever. Turning to leave, she bumped against the solid wall of someone’s chest and stumbled back.
A hand shot out to steady her, and she looked up to find Kellan standing in front of her, surrounded by a group of his friends and several members of the royal guard, conspicuous in their blue-and-silver uniforms.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, looking over her shoulder as if he expected to find someone with her.
“Nothing. I was just leaving.” Her voice broke, and she hastily cleared her throat and tried to step around him.
He waved his friends toward the bar, and then stepped in front of her again.
“Please don’t be annoying tonight, Kellan. I’m really not in the mood.” Tears burned, and she blinked rapidly, but still one chased a trail of heat down the cheek that Dinah had struck.
“Wait a minute.”
“No.” She didn’t have a minute. She was going to break down in that stupid pub surrounded by music and laughter, and the hot, sharp thing that had lived inside her since she’d found Papa’s body was going to shred her to pieces.
Spinning to the side, she skirted his body, wrenched the door open, and rushed into the night air, more tears stinging her cheeks. The door slammed shut behind her, and then he was at her side.
“Blue, please wait.” His voice sounded warm and friendly, the way it had at Papa’s funeral, and it made the hot, sharp thing inside her settle a little.
Quickly, she swiped at the tears on her face and then said, “What do you want?”
“To know what you want.” He ducked his head so he could look into her downcast eyes. “I’ve never seen you at this pub before, and you’ve obviously come alone, so—”