Glow (The Plated Prisoner #4)

Slade lifts his hand, and the tavern owner comes bustling over. He’s a short and stout man named Barut, with thinning hair and even thinner lips. Barut wipes his hands on his muddied apron. “What can I do for you, Sire?”

“Can you bring another pitcher of wine for the table? And we’ll have more bread and cheese as well, Barut.”

“Of course!” he says with a clap, beaming over at me with a crooked smile, his two front teeth tilted over each other like crossed arms. “How is everything else?”

“Perfect as always,” Judd calls over.

The man’s cheeks go ruddy with a bashful blush. “So glad to hear it, Sir Judd.”

When he leaves and it’s just the five of us again, I glower into my cup. I kept my chin up while we were outside on the street, but this widespread rumor of me stealing Midas’s magic is both ironic and infuriating. Needless to say, my mood has plunged. Everyone else is trying to keep the atmosphere positive still, but I can tell that the rumors are bothering them too. Digby, however, is not amused in the slightest. Every time he heard someone say something about me outside, I thought he was going to leap off his horse. I think only his sore ribs held him back.

“Are you alright?” Slade asks, his arm braced on the back of my chair.

I nod. “I’m fine.” When I realize how surly that sounded, I lift my gaze to him. “Thank you for taking me to the clothing shop—you didn’t have to buy me all of that, by the way.”

“You need clothes,” he says with a shrug. “Plus, it’s purely selfish.”

“How so?”

He leans in close. “I get to rip every single piece off you. It’s like getting to decide on the wrapping paper for my own gift.”

A blush rises to my cheeks, and I check around the table, but Judd and Lu are talking, and Digby is busy glowering into his cup. “You sure that’s a good idea?” I challenge? “I might steal your magic.”

Slade gives me a pointed look. “You need to ignore them.”

“That’s pretty hard to do when I wasn’t prepared.”

He drags a hand down his face. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you what some of the rumors were saying. I just wanted you to have a good day here.”

“I know,” I say, blowing out a breath. “I just hate that he’s somehow made it so that my magic still isn’t mine.”

Slade’s mouth tightens. “If people truly want to think that, then they’re fools.”

Just then, Barut comes back over, setting a tray of everything down in front of us. “There you are, Majesty. Enjoy.”

Slade gives Barut a nod of thanks and then pours me more wine. I hum at my first sip.

Bright side, wine can’t gossip.

I take a bite of the creamy cheese too, chewing on my thoughts as much as the food before I ask, “Doesn’t it bother you? That people think I’m seducing you for your magic?”

“I don’t give a fuck what other people think.”

“That’s such a man thing to say,” I reply with a slight roll of my eyes as I take another bite. “Women in this world have to be more careful. Perceived reputations can be life or death.”

“That’s true,” he concedes, watching as I take another drink. “Reputations can also mean power.”

“Says the king.”

He leans in close, lips almost brushing my ear. “Says the king to the fae female who’s conquered him completely.”

I lick my wine-stained lips. “I’ve conquered no one.”

“Goldfinch, you could conquer the entire world with a single look, if only you’d open your eyes.”

“That’s dangerous advice, considering what happened in Ranhold.”

“That’s all part of the fun, don’t you think?”

I level him with a look. “I think I’m starting to learn that you’re just as unhinged as some of the Orean rumors have claimed.”

His devilish smirk only grows. “Oh, love, I’m worse.”

The racing organ in my chest does a flip when he calls me love. “You’re better than you give yourself credit for. You’re good. To me, to your Wrath, to your people.”

“If you knew what I was thinking right now, the last thing you’d call me is good.”

I bury my blush in my cup as I take another long gulp. The heat of his words and the look in his eye have buoyed my mood significantly. He’s at least tied with the wine.

“So, Gildy, where do you want to go next?”

My head jerks forward at Lu’s question. “Oh, umm...” Everyone looks at me expectantly. “I’m not sure.”

“We could take her past the watermill,” Judd supplies. “Or maybe the perfume shop. Lots of ladies like to go there. Or the hattery.”

Lu rolls her eyes. “Does she look like she wants a frilly hat?”

“We could go to the market at the docks,” Judd offers instead. “But there will be lots of people down there.”

I cast a questioning glance at Slade as I finish off the last of my cheese and a bite of bread. “Too many people?”

“We’re all with you,” he tells me. “Besides, like you said, you’re not a thief, so you aren’t going to hide like one. Let them see that these rumors are wrong.”

With a nod, I look to Digby. “You up for it, Dig?”

“I go with you,” he says simply as he drains his cup.

“Alright then. Let’s do it.”

Slade stands up and offers his hand to me, which I take after one last sip of wine.

As we make our way out of the tavern through a back door, I thank him for lunch. “The food here is much better than in Ranhold.”

Lu makes a noise of disgust behind me. “They ought to be ashamed of themselves, drenching everything in syrup. Salt is far better than sugar.”

“Ah, so that’s why you’re not sweet. Even your tastebuds reject it,” Judd says as we all spill out onto the path. Lu tries to trip him, but he’s nimble enough to leap right over her foot.

I take a deep breath of the outside air. The lake is just feet away, separated by the wooden dock and railings. There’s an array of small boats tied up along the docking lines, each of them bobbing slightly in the water.

Slade walks over to the guards waiting around by the carriage, handing them the parcels of food he had Barut make up for them. The men give him nods of thanks, and I’m struck by how different things are here.

Midas would have never given his guards food. It wouldn’t have even crossed his mind. It didn’t matter if they’d been stuck outside in the horrible snow or waiting around for hours inside. And yet, he got the reputation of the Golden King, while Slade is nothing but rot and ruin.

After Slade helps me up onto Honey, we all make our way down to the market, leading our horses around the tavern and down to the busy road once again. Luckily, it’s wide enough for our group plus the unmoving horses and carriages parked up and down the path. Just like up at Brackhill Castle, the roads are cobbled, the black stones scuffed, and the rest of the street lined with brick sidewalks where people walk in and out of the storefronts.

Just like before, I keep my head straight and my chin up, and I don’t pull up the hood of my cloak. Out here in the sun, my hair and skin gleams, so it’s very apparent that I’m not hiding, as everyone’s gaze draws toward me.

The air is thicker now, the warm humidity causing my palms to sweat even without wearing gloves. But Judd leads us right to the market on the docks, and the fresh breeze rolls right in, a constant cool exhale blown in from its sparkling surface.

The guards dismount first, one of them coming over to guide my horse to a hitching post. As soon as we’re all on our own two feet, the people in the market have all stopped to turn and see.

More gasps and shouts ring out as they greet their king and army captains, nearly every stall owner calling out to them. The shoppers have all stopped and turned too, parting as we start to walk down the path. The market consists of rolling carts set up along the street, while others sell their wares right from their bobbing boats.

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