Bounty Hunter (The Black Tulip Chronicles #1)

13. Nadiette

Chapter 13

Nadiette

I sit across from Tryn, my second in command and ever-faithful assistant. Plates of exquisitely-plated food are set before us, then the server gives a slight bow and moves to the next table. I pay the other diners no heed, still in knots about Ikar’s decision. He left three days ago, and the days have been torturous.

Tryn takes a delicate bite and comments on the food, but I hear none of it. She keeps up the conversation, talking about the newest Originators and how their training is going until a server with a message on a small plate bows slightly before me.

“For you, my lady.”

My eyes widen momentarily before I slip the message off the plate and nod my thanks. The server leaves, and I break the smudged wax seal, scanning the message quickly

Abruptly, I speak. “I need your help.”

Tryn, a bite halfway to her mouth, slowly places the utensil back against her plate. “Of course.” She wipes her mouth carefully with a white napkin that looks dull compared to the pure white of her gown .

“I spoke to you of Ikar’s foolish plan to find and, not only marry , a Tulip, but bridge with her. Our ancestors protected the kingdom from them before, and we must do so now.”

Tryn nods, concern in her eyes. “What do you plan to do?”

I hold the message up between two fingers and wiggle it with a smile. “Stop him, of course. I meet Rita’s contact tonight. I asked for a list.”

Tryn leans forward, eyes wide and speaks in a whisper. “A list of the Black Tulips?”

“Yes. But I need your help to figure out how to use it.”

Tryn sits back, frowning. “Well, we could gather a search party and find them all?—”

I shake my head. “No, it would attract too much attention. The less who know of Ikar’s recklessness, the better.”

Tryn ponders for a moment. “I’ve never known Ikar to be reckless.” Doubt laces her voice.

I fist the linen napkin in my hand. “So, you believe that bringing the Tulips back to their former position of fame and power is safe?”

Tryn hesitates. “I… haven’t had a chance to learn?—”

“And hopefully, you don’t. It would be the worst thing to happen to our kingdom in two hundred years.”

Tryn presses her lips together.

I continue, “I need to act quickly. Think it through tonight.”

Tryn whispers again. “It’s really not safe for you to go to that place.”

I laugh lightly. “You have no idea how many times I’ve been there. No need to worry.”

Long after the suns have set, I shed my white apparel for a pair of somewhat ragged breeches, a dark shirt, and black jacket. The regular when I step out to meet with contacts of a special sort.

In positions such as Head Originator, it’s important to have eyes and ears everywhere to better protect my Originators and the kingdom. How else am I supposed to do my job well? I throw a long cloak over my shoulders and pull the hood forward before disappearing into the night, sticking to the shadows as I cross into the side of Moneyre that most women are afraid to travel at night.

Among the street lined with leaning and shabby taverns, I enter the worst of them. The owner, a woman with fiery red-orange hair, meets my eyes and gives a small nod.

I slide into a seat and wait until the woman waves me toward the back. Then I stand and make my way around the unruly, boisterous crowds.

“Rita,” I greet from within the shadows of my hood.

“Through here.” She opens the door into a darkened, more private room at the back. As soon as I walk in, she pulls it shut behind her.

The only other person in the room is hunched over in a chair in the corner, as cloaked and hidden as I. Ignoring the twinge of fear, I stride across the room, pull out a chair, and confidently take a seat.

I sit across from the figure, who I sense returns my stare, for one minute, then two.

Done with the game, I stack three gold coins on the table. Enough to buy warm meals and lodging for two months.

“You want the Black Tulips?” The voice sounds intentionally raspy, hiding its true nature. Maybe even glamoured. But if I were to guess, I’d say it’s a woman .

I nod and wait for her to continue.

She’s silent for another moment. I place another coin on the stack.

Then another.

She pulls a tattered piece of parchment from the folds of her cloak and places it on the edge of the table nearest her.

I sigh and place two more coins on the already towering stack, getting annoyed.

The woman finally slides the paper across the table, and I snatch it before any more of my coins are forced atop the stack. I unfold it and find a hastily-written list of seven names. When I look up to ask where the information came from, she’s already gone.

The next morning, I stand, turning my back on the list that lies flat on my desk, and walk to my window, my white gown trailing behind me. I look over the courtyard, servants busily crossing back and forth, soldiers, nobles, and others talking as they pass through the curated gardens and fountains. Rounding up the Tulips is a start, but Ikar is competent, strong, and smart. If anyone can find a Tulip, it’ll be him, and that cannot happen.

I stare unseeing out the window now. Last night, I was ecstatic to have the list. Now, sobered by a long night of no sleep, I wonder how to slow him down without hurting him. The castle feels empty without Ikar here, and it only adds to my longing. He started the search for a cursed Tulip several days ago. If he happens to find one right away, he could be back any day. I press a fist to my lips as I hold back a sob, imagining a new woman on Ikar’s arm who’s wearing the crown meant for me. I fist my hands at my sides and blink rapidly to clear my eyes. Somehow, he must be stopped. He must have time to return to his senses.

Tryn speaks from a small settee at the opposite side of the room, “You could use the Royal Hunters to track down the seven women.”

I shake my head, still looking out the window so Tryn doesn’t spot the wetness in my eyes. I never show such weakness in front of my Originators. “Again, I don’t want too much attention drawn to this. No one from the castle or any of his soldiers. We need someone relatively trustworthy but not too honorable, or they won’t accept the job.”

Tryn thinks for a moment. “The mercenaries?”

I nod slowly as the idea grows on me. The mercenaries are known to be a dangerous bunch. Some are ex-soldiers, and most just violent, well-trained criminals who’ll take any job that pays well enough. But should I care who captures the Black Tulips? I’m no murderer, but I certainly don’t want one ruling by Ikar’s side. What lengths am I willing to go to protect our kingdom?

“Yes,” I say with finality, rushing back to my desk with swirling skirts and pulling a new sheet of parchment from a stack before neatly and quickly scrawling the seven names of the women I paid for. I take a moment to consider the reward amount, knowing it must be large. I add the information to the bottom, fold it up, and then stand and walk to the window again.

“Nadiette?” Tryn asks.

“The plan is missing something,” I say quietly. “I must think.”

Someone will be tracking the Tulips with the list Tryn is about to sell. Still, Ikar will have to be delayed, as it would put him in danger if he happened to find a Tulip and then attempted to protect the evil woman from one of the mercenaries. Ikar will simply need to be re-routed for a time, protected from the mercenaries. Just in case. But how?

I begin pacing the room. Tryn watches silently. Riches are always the best motivator. I’m almost positive it will be a mercenary who ends up with the list—brutal and savage. They will take care of the Tulip problem efficiently, no doubt, but I don’t want mercenaries after Ikar. They are loyal to none, so it’s too risky. And he too valuable.

Honestly, if Ikar wasn’t so noble and true, it would be much easier to get him home. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have even left in the first place. So true and noble . I laugh gently, remembering when, as a child, he was accused of replacing his tutor’s soap with a concoction that turned her skin purple for days. Of course, it hadn’t been him. Even then his strength of character was straight as the finest arrow. And then I freeze. Why not? I pace faster now, matching the speed of my thoughts. What if he’s accused of a crime? Temporarily, of course. He’s under a glamour, so people won’t know he’s the king. He would be dreadfully annoyed, but I imagine far into the future, when we’ll laugh over this ridiculous journey, happy that it brought us together like we always wanted. His laugh, deep and rich, near my ear as we sit beside the deep blue lake and watch the suns go down as we’ve done so many times before.

I sigh and return to the present, striding back to my writing desk and pulling out another crisp parchment and dipping my quill. I scrawl a lengthy note with a reward amount listed at the bottom. Then I touch the quill to the page and begin a rough sketch. After, I prepare to drop a bit of wax on the folded paper to seal it, then pause. Mind spinning, I lift the quill and look at its tip, considering the glamour Ikar is using. I’d heard him briefly mention it. With a bit of the same glamour applied to the tip, I could quickly go over the sketch once more and it should come to match the glamour.

With that thought in mind, I pocket the quill and make my way to Ikar’s room. If luck of magic is with me, there’ll still be an empty bottle I can steal a drop from that he left behind.

It doesn’t take long to find a discarded vial, and with a bit of water on a dried bit stuck on the bottom, I dip the quill, hurry back to my office, and finish the sketch. I quickly jot out the reward amount for his arrest, drop a circle of hot wax, and press it firmly with a blank stamp I keep in my drawer.

“All ready now, I think,” I say, holding the two folded parchments in my hands.

I hold the first parchment up. “Have this list sold to the highest bidder.” I hold the second up, “And this one is for a legal bounty. My name is not to be associated, the funds for the reward are to be kept with the treasury in town. Make sure no trail leads back to either of us.”

Tryn keeps her expression carefully neutral. I can tell she begs to ask about what I’m telling her to do, but I keep my expression blank and stern, unwilling to offer anything. These things are best kept close.

Tryn nods respectfully and leaves the room.