Page 39 of Chasing the Night
They didn’t bother sending their menu of beauties with the complimentary drink; instead, a girl much too young to be of service scampered over and curtsied before sliding a bit of watered-down wine in front of us.
“She’s adorable,” Chalice announced.
“No. That’s...that’s not necessary, wee one. Look, just bring us some thick wine and get yourself a bite to eat, hm?”
She nodded and happily skipped toward the serving area.
“Are you sure… you’re okay?” I mumbled, studying her for some sign of outrage or objection.
“I like it. It’s not so… stuffy.” She smiled and sipped the cheap peasant’s wine without complaint.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a half-dressed serving girl leading a patron up the steps. I stood up without warning and snatched her wrist, hauling her toward me so I could whisper in her ear.
“I’ll give you three times what he is offering to use the office or wash room instead.” She glared at me like I had lost my mind and shifted her arm. I hauled her back so fast it probably rattled her brain, “A week. I will give a week of your wages if you direct him elsewhere. Anywhere. Just not up there.”
“A week?” she repeated, spiking her kohled eyebrow.
“Two!” I promised.
She all but bowed and took off the way she had come dragging her eager customer with her. I waited until they disappeared across the room before setting back down.
“What was that?” Chalice asked on a laugh.
“Peasant politics!” I quickly offered, all but banking on her innocent nature.
“Oh,” she slowly whispered, giving me the courage to sample the thick wine. “Do you vote often?”
Chalice
It was amusing to see him ruffled. He wasn’t hardened like Ender and Messiah. Keifer’s every thought registered across his gentle features. It wasn’t my fault they all assumed my inexperience to somehow equate to ignorance.
“Sorry, Keifer…” I finally managed once I was able to rid myself of the vision of him sputtering his drink and smearing the evidence from his lips.
“Only my mother and the authorities call me Keifer. My name is Keif.” His voice was deep,but his tone was low and meant for me alone. I leaned into him out of instinct… and to hear better, of course. He was easy to be around. Intriguing yet familiar. I felt safe and free with him. Able to be myself for a moment.
“I think I’ve seen her once,” I absently mused.
“Trust me, you’ll hear her long before you see her,” he groaned.
“Actually, I did…” I laughed, almost feeling ill-mannered for admitting such. He laughed and leaned against me in a playful nudge of sorts.
I glanced around the tavern, taking in the quaint paintings and pottery that was on display.
“My mother would have loved this place,” I mused.
“Isabella… yeah right,” he scoffed.
I blinked at him and canted my head. I knew I looked like Isabella, but did people really think we were all her children?
“Isabella is my adopted mother.”
He stared at me in disbelief and shook his head with a laugh.
“You are her double, what the fuck are you talking about… the same rare beauty.” He leaned toward me and let his eyes drift over me, before they found mine once again.
“Nothing,” I whispered, losing my train of thought to his big brown eyes.
“She’s really not your mother?” he asked, tipping his drink up and killing it. The place was starting to fill up with people, so I followed suit only to find him staring at me and the glass in disbelief.