Greythorne (Bloodleaf 2)

“So you’ve brought me something.” I brightened. “Is it more Halderian chocolate? Please tell me it’s more Halderian chocolate.”

“Not chocolate,” Jessamine said. “Better.” She pulled a bottle from behind her back—it had already been uncorked.

“Wine?” I suppressed a smile. “I can’t drink with you tonight, Jessa. I’ve got somewhere to go.”

“Not just any wine,” she said. “Sombersweet wine.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Where, exactly, did you get that?”

“Brom Baltus has a dozen bottles in his cargo. It costs a fortune, but it is worth every penny.”

“I guess that means I’m now the proud owner of a dozen bottles of sombersweet wine, as I just won his entire cart of goods at Betwixt and Between.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“You can take what you want,” I said. “I’m mostly interested in the apples and dry goods.” “I’m not worried about whether or not you’ll share your sombersweet wine, Aurelia. I’m worried about Brom Baltus. That’s a man who doesn’t like to lose. And he especially won’t be happy about losing everything.”

“Delphinia said much the same thing.” I shrugged. “His hurt pride is hardly my problem.” My gaze shifted from the drawer with my savings back to the bottle in her hand. “How much did you say sombersweet wine would sell for?”

“Double, maybe triple, one of the Canary’s own bottles.”

I did the calculations in my head. That would give me more than what I needed; I could move my plans up by a month at least. I suddenly felt light with relief.

“Perhaps we should celebrate my acquisition,” I said, taking the bottle. “Is this going to give me hallucinations?”

“Oh, come now, hallucinations? It’s just supposed to make things glitter a little.” She watched me take a swallow. “Anything?”

“Afraid not,” I said. “No glittering. Are you sure that Baltus didn’t lie? Sombersweet is rather hard to come by; not many would know if it wasn’t legitimate.”

“I guess I’d better drink this whole thing and see what happens,” she said wryly. “Best to know for sure.”

“I’ll ask you for your appraisal tomorrow morning,” I said, rising to reach for my wool cloak, which was hanging from a peg by the door. Then I stopped, staring at the mirror over my desk. “Did you see that?” I asked Jessamine.

“See what?”

“My reflection. For a second there, it looked . . . different. Not quite like me, exactly.”

She said excitedly, “Maybe the wine causes hallucinations after all. What did you look like? A mermaid? A goblin?”

“No,” I said. “I looked like me, but my hair was darker. Almost black.” I gave a self-conscious laugh.

“I’ve always thought you’d look ravishing as a brunette,” Jessamine said. “And I’ve got the dyes we’d need. Just say the word . . .” She winked.

“The same dyes that turned Rafaella’s hair green last month?” I smiled. “Thank you, but no.”

“It was only for a few days!” Jessa protested. “And her bookings went up wildly. She’s even thinking about trying it again.”

“Rafaella could have no hair at all and still get bookings,” I said, settling my cloak over my shoulders and lifting my satchel over my arm.

“True,” Jessa agreed. “Where are you off to?”

“None of your business,” I replied.

She grinned widely. “Tell Kellan Greythorne I said hello.”

2

I was in the stable, hitching my newly acquired cart to my horse—a dependable, stout mare named Madrona—when I first sensed Brom watching me, hovering just outside the building. I’d already unloaded most of the wine bottles, except for one I tucked into my sack, a gift for the coronation celebration tomorrow, even if I would not be there. Hicks had taken the rest of the bottles to the cellar, leaving me alone in the dark outbuilding.