The woman still spoke as if winter were language. “She spoke—in public—”
“I spoke in private,” Margot said quickly. “In the confines of my own establishment—”
“You spoke in front of your other clients,” the woman snapped. “When my father hears of this, you will be finished here, do you understand? You will be languishing in the Imperial jail!”
It was too much to hope that she would climb the steps to the open door of her carriage and leave. She turned once again to Kaylin; Severn was, as usual, enjoying the advantage of having kept his mouth shut. It was a neat trick, and Kaylin wished—for the thousandth time—that she could learn it. Or, rather, had already learned it.
“You will arrest this—this charlatan immediately.”
“Ma’am, we need to have something to arrest her for.”
“I’ve already told you—”
“You haven’t told us what she said,” Kaylin replied. Given the heightening of color across the woman’s cheeks, the fact that this was required seemed to further enrage her.
“Do you know who I am?”
It was the kind of question that Kaylin most hated, and it was the chief reason that her duties were not supposed to take her anywhere where it could, with such genuine outrage, be asked. “No, ma’am, I’m afraid I haven’t had the privilege.”
Her eyes rounded, and out of the corner of her eye, Kaylin saw that Margot was wincing.
“Who, may I ask, are you?” the woman now said.
“Private Neya, of the Hawks.”
“And you are somehow supposed to be responsible for safeguarding the people of this fair city when you clearly fail to recognize something as significant as the crest upon this carriage?”
Kaylin opened her mouth to reply, but a reply was clearly no longer desired—or acceptable.
“Very well, Private. I will speak with Lord Grammayre myself.” She spoke very clear, pointed High Barrani to her driver, and then stomped her way up the step and into the carriage. Had she been responsible for closing its door herself, it would have probably shattered. As it was, the footman did a much more careful job.
They watched the carriage drive away.
“I suppose there’s not much chance that she’s just going to go home and stew?” she asked Severn.
“No.”
“Is she important enough to gain immediate audience with the Hawklord?”
Margot sputtered before Severn could answer, but that was fine. Severn’s expression was pretty damn clear. “She is Lady Alyssa of the Larienne family. Did you truly not recognize her?”
Larienne. Larienne. Like most of the wealthy families in Elantra, they sported a mock-Barrani name. Something about it was familiar. “Go on.”
“Her father is Garavan Larienne, the head of the family. He is also the Chancellor of the Exchequer.”
Kaylin turned to Severn. “How bad is it going to be?”
“Oh, probably a few inches of paper on Marcus’s desk.”
She wilted. “All right, Margot. Since I’m going to be on report in a matter of hours—”
“Hour,” Severn said quietly.
“What the hell did you say that offended her so badly?”
“I’d prefer not to repeat it.”
Kaylin sourly told her what she could do with her preferences.
“So let me get this straight. Lady Alyssa comes to you for advice about her love life—”
“She is Garavan’s only daughter.” Margot was now subdued. She was still off her color. “And she’s been a client for only a few months. She is, of course, concerned with her greater destiny.”
“I’m not. What I’m concerned with is the statement Corporal Handred has taken from some of your other clients. You told Lady Alyssa that her father was going to be charged with embezzlement, and the family fortunes would be in steep decline? You?”
Margot opened her mouth, and nothing fell out of it. Kaylin had often daydreamed about Margot at a loss for words; this wasn’t exactly how she’d hoped it would come about.
“I—” Margot shook her head. “I had no intention of saying any such thing, Her father’s business is not her business, and she doesn’t ask about him.”
“Then what in the hells possessed you to do it now?”
“She—she sat in her normal chair, and she asked me if—if I had any further insight into her particular situation.”
“And that was your answer? Come on, Margot. You’ve been running this place—successfully—for too damn many years to just open your mouth and offend someone you consider important.”
“That was my answer,” was the stiff reply. “I felt—strange, Private. I felt as if—I could see what would happen. As if it were unfolding before my eyes. I didn’t mean to speak the words. The words just came.” She spoke very softly, even given the lack of actual customers in her storefront; she had sent them, quietly, on their way. Apparently, whatever it was that was coming out of her mouth was not to be trusted, and she was willing to lose a full day’s worth of income to make sure it didn’t happen again.
“So. A cure for baldness that worked—instantly—and a fortune-teller’s trick that might also be genuine.”
“I’d keep that last to yourself.”
She shrugged. “I think it’s time we visited all of the damn shops on Elani, door-to-door, and had a little talk with the proprietors.”
Severn, who didn’t dislike Margot as much as Kaylin, had been both less amused at her predicament and less amused by the two incidents than Kaylin. Kaylin let her brain catch up with her sense of humor, and the grin slowly faded from her face, as well. “Come on,” she told him.
“Where are we starting?”
“Evanton’s. If we’re lucky, that’ll take up the remainder of the shift, and then some. I’m not looking forward to signing out tonight.”
CHAPTER 2
Evanton’s apprentice, Grethan, opened the door before Kaylin managed to touch it. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in three days, and judging from his expression, Kaylin and Severn were part of his waking nightmare.
“Are you shutting up for the day?” Kaylin asked, keeping her voice quiet and low.
He looked confused, and then shook himself. “No,” he told her. “I was just—going out. For a walk,” he added quickly.
She
