Steelhands - Jaida Jones [144]
I was surprised enough that I came close to shutting the door in his face. Somehow, good sense kept me from making too many mistakes in a short period of time, though, and I refrained.
“Okay,” I said instead, though it stuck in my throat. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” Things’d work out with us since they always did; neither of us was the kind of person who had so many friends we could afford to lose the few who managed to stick around.
The door closed behind him, and I just hoped he wasn’t going to do anything stupid, like unburden himself to someone who might be unburdening themselves right in th’Esar’s private confidence.
For now, I knew I couldn’t let Laure see Margrave Germaine, no matter how many angry letters they sent. The rest, like what it meant—and me looking out for her this way—I’d deal with later.
TOVERRE
Somehow, without my knowledge, Laure had been fraternizing with our Professor Adamo again.
The only reason I’d learned the truth at all was not due to my own innate skills of deduction but the fact that she’d come to see me at last, as a gesture of peace between us, and told me outright.
After I got over the initial slap in the face that she had been confiding in someone other than me, I was at least grateful she’d found someone with any kind of standing who was willing to help her, though I sincerely hoped her good looks had nothing to do with that man’s eagerness. Hero of Volstov or no, there were some things that were never acceptable, and I did not care if he had twenty statues dedicated to him throughout the city. Laure’s honor was far more important than anyone else’s reputation.
In private, I was actually relieved she had unburdened herself to me. We had never gone for very long without speaking to one another, and I wasn’t at all certain how to mend relations if too much time passed. Quite fortunately for both of us, they never had yet.
At first, I was too hurt to absorb a great deal of what Laure had to say, but I perked up when I realized what she’d told Professor Adamo—namely everything—and what Adamo had told her in return.
In other words, he intended for her to seek the help of one of his fellow airmen.
“One of ’em works in a hat shop—or he owns it, I guess; I’m not real sure,” Laure had told me, looking as though the information didn’t much matter to her one way or the other. She said it so casually that I wondered if she even understood just how impressive this was. Given her interest in the dragons, I would have thought she’d be far more excited. “Name’s Luvander, and that’s where Professor Adamo says I’m supposed to meet him. Never been, but I thought maybe … Do you know where Yesfir is?”
I’d been pacing the room, but at that I whipped around so quickly that it was clear I’d startled her.
“You mean that popular little boutique along the Rue—the one using peacock feathers in its display?” I asked.
I had heard of it—I knew exactly where it was—but I’d never set foot inside. All the most fashionable hats were for women, though I’d seen that Yesfir also had an immaculate collection of gloves on display. The detail work, the stitching, and the differently colored leather, not to mention the caliber of customers I saw within, were enough to make me burn with desire every time I passed by.
It was like a dream, deposited onto the Rue for my very own enjoyment. And it was run by an airman.
This was what I’d waited for, the culmination of all my time in the city, wandering through the Amazement and—admittedly—spying on the glamorous citizens traveling in and out of the theaters. On our very first day in Thremedon, we’d all been deposited like so many bales of hay in front of the statues of the airmen. They were Volstov’s heroes, but more specifically, they belonged to the city, no matter how much some people