Haern took her hand and led her out into the street.
“We check on Alyssa.”
They hurried toward Ingram’s mansion, hoping to beat the guards there. At first Haern had thought they’d taken too long changing, but he found himself proven wrong. As they neared, a large group gathered along the sides of the road, following the escort of nearly fifty city guard carrying Alyssa to the dungeon.
“What’s going on?” Zusa asked as they pushed to the front so they could see. “They’re celebrating.”
He could sense her anger rising, but he shook his head.
“No,” he said. “It’s not what you think.”
The men and women of the city were cheering, many of them raising their arms or crying out at the top of their lungs. But they were not celebrating Alyssa’s capture, nor the work of the city guard in doing so. Instead, they cried out against the elves, and hailed her bravery.
“Unbelievable,” Haern whispered into Zusa’s ear. The small mob gave way as Alyssa entered the gated compound, where the people of Angelport could not follow.
“Is that how much they hate the elves?” Zusa asked.
It seemed so, and suddenly unsure, the two watched as the guards took the city’s heroine into the heavily protected dungeon as all the while people exalted her name.
16
Madelyn sat in her room as her servants finished adjusting her clothes, tightening the laces of her corset, and applying various colored powders to her face and lips. Last was the ornate tying of her hair, four braids curling through one another so it formed a necklace around her neck that dipped into the curve of her breasts.
Her mood soured as Torgar stepped through the door and leaned against the frame with his arms crossed.
“Not sure this is a good idea,” he said. “The streets still aren’t the safest.”
“If you and your men do your job, I have nothing to fear.”
“We can’t hold back a mob.”
She glared at him, careful not to move her head and disrupt the work of the two servants still braiding her hair.
“There will be no mobs. Why would they bear any ill will toward me?”
The giant man shrugged, and he said nothing though he still clearly disagreed. One of the servants tugged too hard, and she snapped at the girl.
“Watch what you’re doing.”
By the time they finished, she was glad to stand. She looked and felt like the regal ruler she truly was. Laurie might have tried to remain humble in his later years, but she had no such plans. She was beautiful, and she would let all the city know it. Surely in time she could find a wealthy man to marry, one that would willingly accept a submissive role, given her status.
“Make sure you wake Tori for a feeding within the hour,” she told Lily, who nodded as she cradled the baby.
“You ready?” Torgar asked.
“I am,” she said, standing tall. The brute sneered at her but held his tongue.
With eight additional guards, they marched out to the streets, and she was surprised by how vacant they were. There was a hushed quality to the air, and she found herself nervous mere feet from her gates.
“You all right, milady?” Torgar asked, still with that mocking tone.
“I’m fine,” she said. “The city is a bit strange, that’s all. I guess I should have expected as much after all the riots. Surely the commoners need to recover.”
“They ain’t recovering. They’re holding their breath waiting for the next hit, and it ain’t going to be from their own kind this time.”
She shot him a glare as they walked south, toward Ingram’s mansion.
“You think the elves will attack? Nonsense. I’m sure they’ve threatened, and they’ll make life miserable for those forced to live near their forests, but here?”
Torgar pointed to the distance.
“You see that man?”
She looked, and caught a brief glimpse of someone ducking into an alley, his clothes a dull brown and his head covered by a similar-colored hood.
“Why, was he an elf?”
“No. But he could have been. Every man and woman you see hiding in the shadows might have ears a bit pointier than they’re supposed to be. And don’t forget, they have that tricky magic of theirs. I wonder how many poor and hungry travelers flooding into the city have masks over their faces and a bit of forest sap running in their veins…”
Madelyn tried to shrug off his words. He was just playing up stories, wild conspiracies lowborn like him loved to embrace. There was no proof to it. No truth.
“Hold your tongue,” she said. “I don’t wish to hear your exaggerations.”
“He’s just saying what we’ve been hearing,” one of her other mercenaries chimed in, and she felt furious that the man thought it necessary to defend his captain.
“Then you’ve all been hearing nonsense, no more truthful than the blue jay who brings new babies and the trolls underneath children’s beds.”
“No trolls here,” Torgar said, shooting her a wink. “Just elves and wraiths under our beds.”
She felt her blood freeze, but guilt over her husband’s death made her bite her tongue. He laughed at her glare. When they arrived at Ingram’s, she couldn’t have been more relieved. The guards opened their gates and welcomed her inside.
“This way,” one said, and Madelyn ordered Torgar to stay at the gate.
“If you say so,” he said, not seeming bothered that she’d be alone but for Ingram’s men. She might have been annoyed at his lack of concern for her safety, but she was too happy to get away from him to care. She followed the guard through the halls of the elaborate mansion, listening to him talk casually on the way.
“With things as they are, he’s been very busy, so don’t be insulted if he has to keep things short,” he said.
“I understand.”
“I heard about your husband. Frightening, really, knowing someone might break in like that. You’d like to think there’s at least a few safe places left in the city.”
“We’ve never been safe,” she said as she stepped into Ingram’s private study. “My husband learned this too late.”
Ingram turned, and he smiled a tired smile. When he bowed, she returned it with an elegant curtsey. She could tell he was impressed with her outfit, and she made sure to keep her lungs full during her curtsey to push her breasts out far as she could. Laurie had once told her she had cleavage that could kill. Shame he never figured out her hands were just as deadly.
“Welcome, Lady Madelyn,” he said, accepting her offered hand so he might kiss her fingers. “I am glad to see you have not completely lost your sense of womanhood amid your grief.”
There was a bite to the comment, so she smiled sweetly at him and asked, “Have you made any progress toward capturing the one who brought me such grief?”
Ingram’s frown came and went like the flap of bird wings, but she saw it.
“This Wraith proves elusive,” he said.
“I heard he mocked your guard when he helped the Watcher escape, all the while declaring the city his. Surely with such arrogance, you’ll capture him soon. I would be much relieved to know my husband’s killer has been given the punishment he deserves.”
“Of course,” he said, then gestured to a table, offering her a drink.
“White wine,” she said, and a lurking servant brought her a glass.
