Chapter 97: He Was Smiling Like That Was a Threat

The blue-marked crate belonged to a kitchen crew, and its owner had never promised Saffra so much as a drumstick. Dove listened while he explained that twice, then left the keeper to do something useful with the answer. Her counter had already donated enough of her morning.

By evening, the replacement flour arrived with the same weight printed on its sack. The table came back with a new wooden leg and a metal brace. Dove checked both before accepting them, then arranged three more paid nights in exchange for repairing the cold-shed door and providing one owned waterproof cover. The keeper wrote the dates in front of her.

Day Forty-One began with sunlight through the rear shutters and water dripping steadily beyond the wall. She washed with her pool water, brushed her teeth, and found Edrik holding a clean mug outside the door. He had remembered that she wanted coffee before conversation.

Dove accepted it with both hands. "You might be dangerous."

"You’ve seen me work," he said. Dove lifted the mug toward him. "I meant this. Keep doing this and I’ll expect it."

He looked pleased instead of trapped. She had to turn toward the counter before she did something ridiculous, like reward that expression with a kiss she hadn’t thought through yet.

Today’s delivery held three packs of waterproof aprons, two adult sizes in each. Sprout wanted the whole batch sold. Dove held one against herself and decided the men working around the wet shed were better customers. A wheeled storage trunk appeared on the reward shelf, but she closed the shop before it gave her another thing to want.

She sold the first pack to the cooking awning before its staff finished serving breakfast. The other two went to men cleaning out the cold shed. In return she received coffee, wrapped cheese, clean dishcloths, and a small tub of cooking oil. Storing the oil finished one task; carrying goods and practicing her steps finished the other. Her normal purse reached one hundred twenty-five.

At the cold shed, Thorne reshaped the bowed door and its twisted brace. Edrik held the brace against the wall, reinforcing the metal while a worker secured its existing bolts. Thorne fitted another strip along the damaged frame. Workers paused by the drain to watch, and one stepped back, rubbing his arms.

Dove felt the pressure too, heavy enough to lift the fine hairs at her neck. Her men had practiced every day, even on small jobs, but she’d never stood between them while they worked together. "Show-offs," she said when Thorne looked over. He grinned and tested the door. Edrik released the brace once it was secured. Water ran down the cleared trench, and the repaired frame stayed steady when Thorne closed the door.

Thorne came back sweaty and hungry, so Dove sat him beside the counter with roast-chicken sandwiches, sliced pickles, and enough potatoes to fill his bowl. She stole one pickle and scratched behind his ear when he complained.

"Tragic. Your wife took one bite. Shall I call somebody?"

"You could feed me another."

She did, because he was shameless and because she liked how quickly he forgot the men watching. Sprout counted his pleasure and Edrik’s amusement. Dove brushed a fleck of dirt from Thorne’s ear before dropping her hand, then had to nudge him toward the work he’d stopped doing. "You can have another when you’re finished."

Sprout chose that moment to display a new personal item. The little capsule on the screen looked harmless until she read the description.

"Six months?" she asked privately. "For one smell?"

"Three hundred Favor. One directly tagged adult. No damaging fumes, transfer to other people, or control of behavior. The effect persists through ordinary washing."

Dove pictured Saffra demanding gifts while everybody stood across the yard. She lowered her coffee before she laughed into it.

"You are a terrible influence," she told it. Sprout thanked her for recognizing its ability to meet customer needs, which made her snort into her cup.

She closed the offer without buying it. Three hundred was a vicious amount of money when the training manual still cost nine hundred. Enjoying the idea was free, and she intended to get her money’s worth from that part.

Later, she was wrapping the cheese when Edrik moved away from his cot. He didn’t announce where he was going. He glanced at Thorne, then toward the narrow gap between their bedroom wall and the quarry rock.

Thorne stepped beside Dove. "Stay here a moment."

Dove caught Thorne’s sleeve. "What did he see?" Her husband looked toward their rear room. "A man at our window."

Dove put down the knife. Their window faced no public walkway. Somebody had to leave the loading yard and squeeze behind the shed to reach it.

A scrape came from outside, followed by a hard impact and a man’s breath leaving him. Dove went to the rear doorway with Thorne beside her. Edrik came around the corner holding a short prying tool in one hand and a familiar follower by the back of his coat.

It was the follower who’d reached for her food yesterday. His broken right hand was wrapped against his chest; blood from his mouth stained the fingers of his left. He’d apparently tried using that one to pry the shutter. Edrik dropped him onto his feet, and the man swayed before finding the wall with his good elbow.

"He had this under the shutter," Edrik said, setting the tool on the step. "Ask him what he was looking for."

The man claimed he’d dropped something. Dove looked at the fresh gouge beneath their window, then at the narrow space with no dropped object in it.

"Find a better lie on your way out."

Edrik smiled at the follower, showing just enough teeth. The man left before Dove finished speaking.

Dove glanced through the bedroom doorway. Their bags were still beneath the coat hooks, and the shutter hadn’t opened. "Well, now he’s got a matching face," she muttered. Thorne picked up the pry tool and put it out of reach while Edrik went back to the counter. The follower didn’t linger to ask for it back.

When she turned back, Edrik had set her coffee out of the work area so it wouldn’t get knocked over. That nearly undid her more than the blood.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For noticing before I had to."

He brushed her wrist and moved the wrapping cloth back within reach. Dove stood there a moment, looking at the coffee he’d saved. She’d been furious about the window, but now she wanted to ask whether he’d stay inside tonight. The words stuck. Instead, she put another sandwich beside his cup and left her chair close to his. Outside, Saffra’s carriers lowered her chair beside the stall.

"I have proper quarters," she told Edrik. "And I know how to reward a man who serves me. Come here."

The bear looked toward Dove, and the smile still on his face became something she almost felt sorry for Saffra seeing.