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A Promise of Fire (Kingmaker Chronicles, #1)(127)

Author:Amanda Bouchet

“Don’t disappear on me, Cat. Don’t.” He drops me back into my chair, and I land on everything that’s sore. “We’re going to the agora. Now.”

I take a slow breath through my nose, refusing to shift on my seat to find a more comfortable position. “The realm dinner is tomorrow. You have other things to do.”

“I told you I’d take you.”

“I’ll go with Flynn and Kato. We’ll take the girls.”

A muscle feathers along his jaw. I look at him, my expression open and honest. Last night, I altered the course of my entire existence. Adjustments like this don’t come easily for me. I need time. He must know I need time.

Griffin exhales loudly and then nods. “Be back in two hours, or I’m sending the army after you.”

“Three,” I say. “I’ll need to be fitted for a dress, if you’ll recall.”

His nostrils flare. So do his eyes, but not with anger, and heat whips through me. He nods again and then drops a bag of coins onto the table.

*

Jocasta, Kaia, and I walk ahead. Flynn and Kato trail a few steps behind. We make our way through winding streets lined with whitewashed homes shaded by overhanging roofs, deep-set windows, and cypress and citrus trees. The cooler, rainy season is approaching, but for now the air is still sunny and dry. Sinta City glows on days like this, but now its radiance is reflected in the faces around us. There are practically no beggar children since most of them are employed at one or another of Piers’s building projects, and the invalids and aging soldiers who used to line the streets sweating in the sun with their hands stretched out for coppers are now somewhere in the shade. Griffin started distributing pensions, even to the people who fought against him. Go figure.

I worried that between cutting taxes and giving away money, he might not have the funds to recruit soldiers, but he said the ex-royals had hoarded enough riches to stop all taxing for a generation if he wants to. I stopped arguing, wondering about the state of Fisa’s finances for the first time in years.

Everywhere in Sinta City, faces are fuller, eyes friendlier. People have more coins in their purses, and the agora is bustling. We walk past the food stalls first, attracting a good deal of attention. The smells of baking bread and roasting meat make my stomach rumble, so I buy a honey-coated bun and eat it while we walk.

Everyone wants to touch the princesses, just a pat on the hand or a flutter of fingers across a shoulder. Just watching all the contact makes me want to crawl out of my skin, but the girls don’t seem to mind. They find a gracious word for everyone. When an old woman with a rickety wagon wants to sell us lemons, I buy ten, not because I need ten lemons, but because she bows low and long to Jocasta and Kaia even though her joints look swollen.

The agora is a kaleidoscope of noises, scents, and colors. I’ve been here many times, but I’ve never seen it like this. Vendors smile and laugh, rush out to greet us, and press gifts into the princesses’ hands. I buy all the new clothes I’ve been needing and two squares of yellow soap that smell like citrus. No one lets me pay full price for anything.

I was wary about taking the girls out with only Flynn, Kato, and me for protection. Not that the three of us are anything to scoff at, but still, it didn’t seem entirely wise even with the new royals’ overwhelming popularity among the Sintan majority. Street children have their fingers in a lot of pies, though, and what goes on at the north wall must have made the rounds of the city because it turns out we didn’t need Kato and Flynn, except to carry packages. Jocasta, Kaia, and even I appear to be universally adored. After weaving through the outdoor marketplace at an agonizingly slow pace, it’s clear that if anyone in Sinta City is stupid enough to even look at one of us wrong, they’ll be shredded by an angry mob.

When we finally wind our way up the hill toward the more exclusive shops, it’s with just enough time left before Griffin sends the army looking for me. I choose a discreet, intimate-looking establishment, and after a quick glance through the selection of ready-made dresses, I decide on an ivory gown with gold trim, finding high-heeled sandals, a geometric-patterned gold belt, and matching shoulder clasps to go with it. I try everything on, and while the seamstress is making final adjustments to the hem, the merchant, who’s handsome and young and showing a particular interest in Jocasta, convinces me to buy a length of braided gold rope to dress my hair.

Satisfied with my purchases and once again in my tunic and pants, I emerge from the back room to find Jocasta having trouble unhooking a necklace she tried on. The merchant goes to her at once, eager to help, but the second his fingers touch her skin, Flynn shoots like a lightning bolt from the shadows where he and Kato were hiding from all the shopping. With a growl, he yanks the man back hard enough to toss him halfway across the room. Jovial Flynn suddenly looks rabid.