The Confectioner's Coup by Luana Claire

Author:Luana, Claire
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Live Edge Publishing
Published: 2018-11-18T16:00:00+00:00

Another fifteen minutes passed before the tent flap parted and the strangest man Wren had ever seen entered the tent. He was thin and gaunt, yet he stood straight as an arrow and had a certain vitality to him. He wore white robes trimmed with gold, as if he were some sort of priest. His skin was unmarred by the lines of age, but it was stretched too tight, too shiny, as if there were something unnatural about his youth. He had a full head of dark brown hair, and his hairline seemed as if it swooped too low. Though all the trappings of youth and health were pulled around him, the man seemed…ancient.

“Hello,” the man said, his hands hidden in the sleeves of his robes. His voice was as slippery as oil. “I am Sim Daemastra.” His eyes fixed on Hale, and a smile spread across his face. Somehow the smile was even more horrible than his regular face. Wren hadn’t thought that was possible.

“I heard that our prodigal son had returned. Hale Firena, in the flesh.”

“I’m not sure it qualifies as a return if you invade my country,” Hale muttered.

The man let out a little peal of laughter. “Always the comedian. Nice to see there are some constants in this world. Tell me, how is your mother?”

“She died in the red plague a few years ago,” Hale said.

Daemastra’s face fell. “I’m so sorry to hear that the light of a star such as hers was extinguished.” He walked closer to Hale, leaning down to examine him until he was almost nose to nose with him.

Hale sat back in his chair, as straight as a board, trying to ignore this Sim Daemastra’s obvious scrutiny. “But perhaps her light hasn’t been completely extinguished. I hear you’re a member of the Confectioner’s Guild.”

“I am,” Hale said. What normally carried a sense of pride came out hesitantly.

“And you as well.” Daemastra turned his gaze on Wren, making her skin crawl.

“Yes,” she breathed. Wren sat on the edge of her chair, feeling like a flighty doe who’d caught the scent of a predator.

“Some remarkable confections come out of that Guild,” Sim Daemastra said. “I pay attention to such things as a cuisinier. Confections so good they’re almost magic.”

Hale let out a forced bark of laughter. “Magic. Nonsense. Now if we could find a way to keep the chocolate from ending upon our customers’ hips… Then people would come from the world around to buy it.”

Wren pasted a smile on her lips at Hale’s terrible jest. At least he was trying to divert this man from the topic at hand. She should help. It felt somehow like they were too close to the fire.

“We’ve been brought here against our will,” Wren said. “General Marius seemed to think you would persuade us to aid your cause.”

“Done with pleasantries, are we? Very well.” Sim Daemastra sat down in the chair Marius had vacated and leaned forwards to retrieve a slice of cheese from the platter. He smelled sour, like vinegar.

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