Steelhands - Jaida Jones [148]
Exchanging a look with Laure, I followed him into the shop, where it was thankfully much warmer. There were no customers within, and Luvander hung up a Closed sign behind the glass window, between a red and purple display. It smelled of new felt and soft leather, and I breathed in deeply, reveling for a moment in how pristine everything was, how organized.
“So I’ve heard from Adamo that you’re interested in buying some hats,” Luvander said, gesturing for us to follow him deeper into the shop. There was a little door behind the counter, which he opened, and I reluctantly left the shop itself behind. “How awkward; redheads are notoriously difficult to work with.”
“Green or blue suits them very well, I find,” I said instinctively.
“Of course,” Luvander agreed. “I meant their dispositions, which are notoriously dreadful. Ace was a redhead, and how he carried on! Merritt, too. Both of them crazy as—well, as naked peacocks, I suppose. Mean little bastards. Wouldn’t want to fit either of them for hats. This is Balfour, by the way. You make your introductions while I make some tea.”
Privately, I wondered if Luvander himself wasn’t a natural redhead—considering, in his own words, “how he carried on.” Then he stepped aside, letting us enter the back room, which was a little kitchen with a white stove and sink set, and a table in the middle, at which a young man—not much older than Laure or I, I suspected—was sitting, gloved hands on the tabletop.
“Hullo,” Laure said.
I had intended to make my own introductions right away, but I was momentarily fascinated by the ghoulish mask hanging on the wall directly over Balfour’s head. It looked like something pilfered from a barbarian land, though from what I’d read for classes and my own personal edification, it didn’t appear to be Ke-Han in origin.
“That thing looks like me in the morning, doesn’t it,” Laure murmured, nudging me with her elbow.
“Hello,” said Balfour, passing a hand through his hair and standing. I might have told him that there was no need to stand on our account—since he far outranked us in terms of importance—but I was so soothed by the unexpected display of good manners that I could hardly speak up and tell him to stop. “I’m … Well, I suppose Luvander already told you, didn’t he? I’m Balfour.”
“I am Toverre,” I said, much comforted by the sight of his gloves, as well. They were made of crisp kid leather, an off-white color, with dark buttons at the wrists, though they fit him a little stiffly. “And this is my fiancée Laurence, but she prefers to be called Laure. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Balfour was an extremely pale creature, who looked like one good winter storm would finish him off once and for all—but then, that was what everyone often said about me back home. Since Balfour was an airman, I could only assume he’d proven his own resilience ten times over, and that gave me hope for my own prospects during future trials.
And it was nice to meet someone with some knowledge of etiquette—a handsome, thoughtful, young city gentleman, who just so happened to be a noble ex-member of the Dragon Corps.
Laure nudged me in the side, presumably to remind me not to get any ideas. She needn’t have worried; we were there strictly on business, and business was my sole focus of the hour.
Whatever came later entirely depended on how our business went.
“Laure’s the reason for this little meeting, Balfour,” Luvander called, from where he was busying himself with a tin of tea and five separate mugs. Not one of them matched, but they were all clean enough to suit my standards. One even came with a dear little saucer. I watched him to make sure he washed his hands before he began, then turned my attentions back to Balfour. “She’s one of Adamo’s students, you know.”
“Don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here,” Laure grumbled, going over to the table and picking out a seat. I knew she was only put out because Adamo hadn’t arrived yet—try as she might to conceal it from me, I had a feeling my suspicions were proving all too prophetic. I didn’t know how I felt about this,