“You don’t partake?” I ask curiously.
Her blue eyes go shuttered. “No. I don’t want my problems to be shoved aside or to be forced into lust. I refuse to stay here and succumb.” I don’t say anything to that, and she finally drags her eyes away from Fulke’s saddles and smooths a hand down her skin-tight dress. “I assume you came here to speak with me?”
“I did.” Another breathy, sensual noise comes from behind me. “Can we talk somewhere that’s more private and less...moany?”
Rissa snorts but turns and leads me through a doorway at the back. Inside, the space is stuffed full of unmade beds, though it’s thankfully empty. Closing the door behind us, she takes her place by the far wall, leaning against it to face me. “I was wondering how long you’d make me wait until you came to visit.”
“I’m not making you wait,” I say. “I told you it would take time for me to get things in order.”
“And? Are you getting things in order?” she asks, and I notice it then—the underlying desperation. She’s hiding it well, but I see it in the way she stretches her tense fingers, the way her gaze fastens.
“I am.”
“Are you?” she asks again with clear doubt in her tone. “Or maybe you’re lying to me right now and instead, you’ve told the king and plan to double-cross me.”
I don’t point out that she’s the one who’s blackmailing me. “I gave you my word, Rissa,” I tell her. “I said I’d get you the gold, and I meant it. But...I do need to make a new deal with you.”
Rissa’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “What is this new deal?”
I lick my lips and look around nervously before I whisper, “You said you needed enough gold to buy out your contract and to start a new life somewhere. But I know King Midas. He won’t let you out of your arrangement until he decides. Trust me in this.”
Her brows swoop in together tightly. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” I answer matter-of-factly. “So we need a new plan. If you want to leave this place, it’s going to have to be in secret.”
“You mean escape?” she asks incredulously. “Are you an idiot? King Midas would hunt me down and drag me back to shove me in the dungeons.”
“Not if he can’t find you.”
Rissa scoffs, like the very idea is ludicrous. “You’re reneging on our deal.”
“I’m not,” I say adamantly. “But I know him, Rissa. I don’t care that you’re his best royal saddle. He won’t believe for a second you’ve been given enough tips from other people to buy yourself out of your contract.”
She holds herself very still, lips pinched together tight with anger, although there’s a slight downturn to them that I don’t miss. Now that I’ve planted doubt in her head, she either knows I’m right or doesn’t want to risk it.
Since she’s not outright threatening to spill my secret or storming away from me, I take it as a good sign. “You can still be free, and I’m going to do everything I can to make that happen, so long as you agree not to go through Midas, because we’ll be caught in an instant.”
Rissa chews on what I’ve said, though her hackles are still up, apparent by the stiff line of her shoulders. “I’m listening.”
“I’ll help you plan an escape out of here. I’ll also make sure you have enough gold when you leave that you’ll be a very wealthy woman.”
“Getting out of Ranhold without anyone the wiser will be impossible.”
“Not impossible,” I argue. “Not if we plan it meticulously.”
“And the gold?” she asks.
I hesitate. “I can’t get you coin. Midas’s power... ”
Rissa runs a frustrated hand over her hair. “Gild me some damn curtains for all I care. I told you before, there’s a cost to your secret, Auren, and you have to pay. You were able to tap into Midas’s power enough that you turned a man solid gold,” she reminds me. “I want my due.”
“I can get you gold, but what are you going to do with it?”
“I’ll find a blacksmith here to melt it down in exchange for coin. Pay him off for his silence,” she answers easily, propping her hands on her hips.
My head is already shaking before she’s even finished. “Any blacksmith in Ranhold would know right away you’re stealing from the king, and they’d sell you out quicker than you could blink. You know it’s true.”
Her mind seems to fumble, knuckles going white where they’re braced at her sides. She drops her hands and walks away from me, pacing the empty room as if the shuffle of her steps will help her mind work out the new path I’ve laid down.