The Thief King

34 | A Child's Bargain

Hannah's face was drawn into a perplexed scowl. Sera felt like hiding the girl behind her back. Whoever the stranger was, he was definitely noble and perhaps even important by the looks of his shiny boots, fur-lined cloak, and thick leather gloves that had but a single stain.

"I was just saying how talented she is," Sera said quickly. "And that she should not doubt herself. I'm glad you agree that her work is something worth remarking upon."

"Indeed," the man smiled again, his eyes not leaving Sera's for a moment. "So? What of my offer?"

"I heard no offer," Hannah's voice was clipped and accusing.

"I shall speak plainly then. I wish a portrait."

"Of?"

"Myself, of course."

Hannah's head cocked to the side. "Don't you got one of them seeing glass things?"

The man chuckled as Sera nudged Hannah with her elbow; now was no time to abandon her manners.

"I do, but you see, there is something very special about a drawn likeness. Something magical that is so far removed from what is actually there."

Hannah frowned. "So you want me to draw you the way you are, or the way you want to be?"

"I want you to draw what you see." The man smiled.

Hannah considered the offer, folded her arms before her, and squared her stance. "How much you gonna pay me?"

"Hannah!"

"What? You don't work for free, do you?"

"Hannah, I don't–"

"Thirty silver pieces."

Sera faced the stranger, her eyes wide and her mouth agape. She mouthed what he had just said, not believing the sum he was offering for a simple drawing. "Sir, we cannot accept that kind of–"

"Forty."

Sera whipped around to Hannah preparing to scold her for her impudence, she taught the girl better than to ask for handouts and bargain for money.

"Thirty-five."

"Thirty-eight."

"Thirty-seven, and that is as high as I will go."

Hannah pursed her lips and stuck out her hand. "Deal."

The man shook Hannah's hand, smiling broadly. "Wonderful, shall we begin?"

"Sure, where would you like to sit?"

"Here is fine." The stranger pointed to where Sera had recently sat. Hannah picked up her art supplies and resettled a few strides away, sitting on the hard pebbles and stones. Sera started to follow her when the man stopped her, his hand resting gently against her arm. "Please, I know portraits can take quite a bit of time and a companion to talk to would be greatly appreciated."

A moment passed before Sera fully understood what he was asking. She was about to refuse when he bowed at the hips.

"Please, you would be doing me a great honour."

"Sir, I–"

"Please, call me Dorian."

Dorian walked back towards the palace, a rolled up parchment in one hand. He had not lied, the little girl had talent with charcoal, and the coin was not wisely spent but invested. Sera, with her doe eyes, porcelain skin, and spray of freckles at the top of her cheeks had proven an interesting conversation partner. The girl was intelligent and observant, if not a little cautious. She held her tongue no matter his pries and prods. He had expected as much.

A turn of a corner and the Silver Moon came in to view, its massive marble pots heralding any traveller to its humble entrance. It was no palace, yet compared to the rest of the city it might have passed for one. As expected, a short, thin man stood, his hands thrust into his coat pockets and half his face hidden under a thick woollen scarf. He wore round glasses which Dorian knew slipped down the thin nose whenever the man spoke, hence the annoying habit of pushing the spectacles back into place,

As the man noticed Dorian, his glasses slid, and like clockwork, his fingers raised to push them back up.

"Lord Qur'up, I trust you are having a pleasant morning?"

Dorian inclined his head. "Fagan."

Fagan pushed off from the fence and jutted his weak jaw out, attempting to lengthen his short, small frame through posture. "Anything you wish to report?"

Dorian breathed in through his nose, stepping close to the small bookkeeper. "Yes, in fact, I do. I have watched and spoken with her."

"And?"

"There is most certainly something plaguing her mind and heart. I shall seek her out again tonight. I believe she is on shift."

"You think you can–"

"You are in no position to question my abilities, Fagan. Remember who you are dealing with, I am no mere Lord or nobleman, and you are barely a rat to me."

Fagan bowed. "Apologies. I shall pass on your report."

Dorian eyed the man as he left, his hunched back looking a little more hunched than it had been just moments ago. Dorian could not help but smile.