The Thief King

34 | A Child's Bargain

Hannah shut her sketchbook, driving her fingers through her unruly hair. "You have to say those kinds of things."

"Wha- no I don't."

"Yes, you do. You're...you're..." Hannah puffed out her cheeks. "If I drew a circle you would call it a masterpiece."

"I can imagine circles a tough task to accomplish."

Hannah snorted, her nostrils flaring and her hands curling behind her neck. "See, I can't trust your opinion."

"Of course you can."

"No, I can't. Koltin would–"

"Koltin isn't here." Sera pressed her lips together, tears ready to fall.

"You know," Hannah began, "every time I say Koltin's name you jump like a frightened cat. Something's wrong isn't it?"

"Nothing's wrong." Sera turned from Hannah, willing the tears gone, praying they dried up or ran out. Convincing herself that they served no purpose sometimes helped. What would tears accomplish? Tears never solved a problem. There was little to no need of their presence, yet they persisted and pushed and pounded behind her eyes demanding to be felt and seen.

"You're fighting again, aren't you? What's it about this time?"

"Hannah, please don't worry."

"Worried? I'm not worried about the two of you, I'm worried about me. You know how hard it was speaking to the two of you when you wouldn't even look each other in the eye?" Hannah groaned. "It was horrible, and not to mention childish." She opened up her sketchbook and regarded her art, her fingers scratching idly at the side of her nose. "I think if I blend in the sides a bit more it would help."

Again, Sera turned her back on Hannah, pulling her legs onto the fountain's lip on which they sat. A layer of ice hid the cold waters of the fountain and the stone was old and slippery with moss growing in every crevice and gap it could find. The seahorses, or what remained of them, that should have spurted water through their spouts had not worked ever since Sera could remember, their mouths in a perpetual exclamatory shape.

"Quite the talented girl you have there."

Sera jumped, nearly slipping into the fountain. Looking up, she regarded the man that towered over her and Hannah, admiring Hannah's work with dark, observant eyes. When Hannah shut her sketchbook and sprang to her feet, he watched with a calm, amused smile. He then turned to Sera and offered her a gloved hand.

"May I help you?" he asked, his voice accented and rich.

Sera clutched at her skirts and stood without accepting his offer. "I am capable of standing on my own, Sir, although I thank you for your concern."

The stranger ran a hand over his shaven head and cringed. "I have frightened you, haven't I? Forgive me, years of training has left my movements silent and stealthy. I meant only to compliment this young lass for her art."

"You did already," Hannah retorted.

The man smiled, his lips not parting. "Yes, I believe I have, but I think the greatest compliment an artist could ever receive is a request from a lord to sketch his likeness? You have a very keen eye, and I believe anything created by you will be worth a hefty sum someday."

Hannah choked on her laugh. "Yeah, and I'll be farting daisies and burping sunshine by that time."

"Hannah!" Sera chided.

"No, it's quite alright." The man laughed. He was young, perhaps, but definitely older than Sera by at least a dozen years—yet still handsome in a regal way. Everything about his features was straight and angled. Square jaw, long nose, straight mouth, slightly slanted eyes. His hair was shaven by choice, his beard cropped close to his golden skin and his ears were filled with piercings. Gold and ruby studs outlined the tips and ended with a black spike at the bottom. "I am a stranger offering compliments and pleasantries, it is quite natural for Hannah here to feel somewhat defensive and cautious. I applaud your instincts, young lady."