Kate stifled a grin at the look of annoyance that crossed Bonner’s face whenever his father called him Tommy—the only person permitted to do so.
“I would love to,” Kate said, kissing the man on the cheek. She could use the distraction from her troubles, if only for a little while. With Thomas there, she couldn’t discuss any of her concerns about Bonner’s use of his wilder magic. Thomas didn’t know this truth about his adopted son, another lie kept to protect a loved one.
Still, all too soon, lunch was over and Kate found herself alone in her room, her doubts and worries pressing down on her harder than before. She couldn’t do anything to help Bonner, but Signe’s words about how to get someone to talk had given her an idea. All she needed was enough coin and the right disguise.
And enough courage to go through with it, Kate thought, looking at her image in the mirror the following night. It had taken her hours to assemble the disguise, and even now she wasn’t quite certain she looked enough like a young man to get away with it. She wore her loosest-fitting breeches, tall boots, and a red velvet doublet that she’d found stowed in a trunk in Signe’s room. Kate felt guilty about going through her things, but her need was too great not to, and the doublet far too perfect.
Although she didn’t quite recognize the cut and pattern of the clothing, it had clearly been made for a grown man. He’d been taller than Kate but not much wider, which meant the jacket hung just past her hips, helping hide her feminine shape. Even more perfect, the buttons lining the front of it were made of rubies the size of her thumb, a fortune that had left Kate dumbstruck when she first spotted it. She longed to know the story of why Signe kept it, but doubted she would get the real one even if she asked. She worried about wearing it in public but in the end decided that if she was going to buy the information she needed, it was best to look wealthy enough to afford it.
I’ll put it back when I’m done, and she’ll never know, Kate silently swore as she slid a cowl on to hide the bulge of her hair, pinned to the back of her head.
Finally, she picked up her bag of coins and a jeweled dagger Corwin had given her a few days before—another gift for saving him—and tucked them into her belt. She had to wear the belt loose to avoid revealing too much, but after a moment’s adjustment she was ready to go.
Walking, it took her nearly an hour to reach the Burnside district. She would’ve liked to ride, but she didn’t want anyone in the castle seeing her like this. Sneaking out the servants’ entrance was a lot easier than through the front gates, as she would have had to on horseback. Besides, she didn’t like the idea of leaving Firedancer unattended in such a rough area.
At this time of night, the street out front of the Sacred Sword buzzed with people, mostly men coming in and out of the taverns, gaming houses, and other brothels. Kate supposed the crowd was one of the drawbacks of the high king’s edict that all such establishments be kept to one district. People came from all over Norgard to indulge their sins here.
Doing her best to walk like a boy, Kate stepped onto the porch in front of the entrance and nodded at the guards. Above their heads hung a carved wooden sign bearing the brothel’s name written beneath a sword being drawn from a sheath with a red rose entwined around it.
The guards ignored her, and she walked by with a sigh of relief. Beyond the door was an antechamber with three archways leading to interior rooms. Gauzy curtains covered the ones to the right and left. Through the center archway, Kate saw the tavern portion of the establishment, an assortment of tables in different sizes and shapes, most of them occupied. In the middle of the room stood a low platform where several musicians played while two scantily dressed women danced in slow, seductive circles.
Kate pulled her gaze away only to find two more such women standing by a podium set between the archways. Both wore cropped bodices that left their midriffs bared, their moonbelts clearly visible. They eyed Kate with matching dubious expressions.
“Can I help you?”
Kate cleared her throat, then in the deepest voice she could manage said, “A table, please. For now.” She waited, breath held as she braced to be turned away.
The woman on the left stepped around the podium. “Follow me.”
Letting out her breath slowly, Kate followed the woman into the room. She felt eyes on her as she sat down at an empty table far in the corner. Resisting the urge to fidget with the doublet as it rode up too high on her neck, she surveyed the room. Any one of these people might have the information she needed.
The serving girl who arrived a few minutes later was easily the homeliest of the workers Kate had seen. Too thin, with lank brown hair and small breasts, she stared down at Kate with a pinched expression. “What can I bring you?”
Kate ordered the fish with mushrooms and roasted potatoes and a cup of the house wine. While she spoke, she made a show of removing her money purse and placing it on the table, coins jangling. Thank the gods she’d amassed enough valens since she’d started working as Corwin’s horse trainer to make an impression. It helped that she had nothing to spend the money on, all her basic needs provided by the castle. The truth of this sat uncomfortably in her mind. She didn’t want to be dependent on anyone, Corwin least of all.
When the serving girl returned, Kate paid her double the price of the food and drink. The girl scooped it up eagerly, her earlier annoyance tucked behind a veneer of greed.
“But come back often,” Kate said before the girl walked away. “I will need more to drink.” She held up the cup in emphasis, then took a long swallow. The bitter taste burned her throat, but she managed not to cough.
After weeks of meals prepared in the royal kitchens, she found the fish barely edible, too salty and dry. Kate ate it anyway, using the excuse of each bite to observe the activity in the room. She tried to picture her father in this place but failed at every turn. Most of the men were high on alcohol or sex or both. In some ways she thought she’d rather be facing a pack of drakes again.
When the serving girl returned to the table sometime later, Kate ordered more wine, again paying double for it.
“What is your name?” Kate said, handing over the coins.
The annoyance reappeared on the girl’s face. “Janelle.”
Sensing her resistance, Kate slid over another coin. “Have you been working here long, Janelle?”
The girl shrugged. She was younger than Kate first thought, her thinness and frown lines falsely aging her. “Few years.”
Hoping she was telling the truth, Kate asked, “Do you remember a man who used to come here often about three years ago? Tall, with black hair and brown eyes.”
Janelle huffed as she picked up the coin. “Sure, I remember him. He’s just like that man over there or that one. They’re all the same, don’t you know.” She pointed at several nearby tables, and it was all Kate could do to keep from grabbing the girl’s arm and pulling it down, the idiot.
“This man was slight of build. A horseman. He worked at the royal stables.”
The girl started to shake her head, but then understanding dawned on her face. “Do you mean Hale Brighton, the traitor?” She practically shouted the name.
“Yes.” Kate gestured for the girl to lower her voice.
Janelle put her hands on her hips. “Why you want to know about him?”
Kate blinked, the question taking her by surprise. She’d been so focused on a convincing disguise, she’d forgotten to work out a convincing story.
“Uh . . . just . . . curiosity. I mean, he’s famous. Or infamous, rather.”
“I don’t think so.” Janelle turned and walked away.