Hidden (Book 1) (15 page)

Tressa stumbled into the first inn on the edge of
town.
The Rooster’s Wattle.
It would do. She pushed
open the door and was greeted by the warm scent of freshly baked bread and
porridge cooking in a pot in the hearth.

The innkeeper stood behind the bar,
wiping it down with the edge of his apron. “Need a room, lass?”

“No, sir. A job, if you please.”
Tressa cast her eyes toward the dirty floor. Bowls still sat on the table from
the meal the night before. Yes, they needed help, as she’d hoped. The outside
was in disrepair too. They didn’t have much, but she was willing to work for
cheap. Any innkeeper would find that attractive.

“Why should I hire you? Where is your
family?”

Tressa sighed and rubbed the side of
her neck. “My father cast me out only a few moments ago.”

The innkeeper’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

Tressa pulled back the hem of her
gown to reveal the love bite Bastian had left. “He accused me of being a
trollop.” She looked up, eyelashes fluttering. “It was only a small dalliance
with a solider.” She tugged on her hair. A giggle passed over her lips. It felt
forced, but the innkeeper wasn’t focused on her laugh once she’d exposed her
cleavage.

“I could use some help around here.
It would help business to have an attractive young maid serving the men who
stopped in. Are you against showing a little skin?”

“Will I get more tips?” She flashed
him a brilliant smile.

He laughed. “It’s almost guaranteed.”

“And will I have a place to sleep?”

His eyes darted to her chest again.
She knew what he wanted. He reminded her too much of Udor. Luckily she knew
exactly how to manipulate him.

“Yes…” his voice trailed off.

Tressa held up a hand. “My own bed in
my own room?”

He blinked twice,
then
looked her at her face, as if he just realized she had one. “Yes, of course.
There’s a small chamber at the back on the third floor. It’s nothing fancy.
Just a bed and a chest, but it’ll do for you.”

Tressa curtsied. Her knees knocked
together under her dress, but she hoped he didn’t notice.

“Off with you, now. Put your bag in
your room,
then
report back here. The crowd will be
arriving soon to break their fast.”

Tressa nodded. “I’ll be out quickly to
help you clean up for the morning meal.”

Before he could answer, Tressa
sashayed through the inn. They were all built on the same plan as the former
inns back in Hutton’s Bridge that now held multiple families.
A kitchen, a bar, a dining area, and a room in the back for the
innkeeper.
The inn could build up, with three to four rooms on each
level. This one only stood three levels. She’d seen some closer to the center
of town upwards of seven levels built around the trees in the forest. Based on
the pitch of the walls, those looked less secure than this humble
establishment.

On the rickety steps, Tressa pulled the
top of her shirt into a more respectable position. Making her way down the dark
hall, the second-to-last door stood open.

“Who are you? Has he replaced me
already? I’m not dead, despite what he told you.” The voice came from the room
with the open door.

Tressa hesitated, her hand on the
latch of her door. “Excuse me?” she called back.

“Come in, child. Show me your face.”

Tressa stepped away from her room and
pushed the door to the other room open, finding an overweight woman lying in
bed. Only a thin blanket covered her body, beads of sweat dripping down her
cheeks and over her dark, but thin, mustache.

“Who are you? Proper girls don’t
travel alone.
Particularly not ones as young and beautiful as
you.
A man might take advantage.”

“No, my lady. I was running an errand
for my father when your husband rushed outside begging for someone to come in
and save his dear wife, who he loves so much, from the drudgery of kitchen work.”

She snorted, her nostrils flaring.
“Lies.” Then she chuckled. “I like you already. You’re not dumb, so you won’t
let him grope you. That’s good enough.
Come in
,
come in
. I’m not as ill as everyone thinks. I’m just fat.
And hot. I like to lay in bed.”

“Then we’re both in luck because I’m
here to work.”

“I suppose that boob out there saw
your boobs and hired you on the spot.”

Tressa laughed. “That’s nearly how it
went. If I promise to never let him touch me, will you agree to me working here
for a time?”

“If it means I can continue to lay
here, absolutely. Though should Ira pinch your
arse
once in a while, I won’t throw you out.” She shifted in the bed, sitting up a
bit. “Don’t come too close or I might pinch it myself. I remember when I was
your age.
The young maids who hid in groves together and
giggled over boys.
I might have taken advantage once or twice myself,
playing the role of the man, while teaching them how to kiss. A little
touch
here, a little grope there. It was all part of the
game.”

Tressa raised an eyebrow. She knew
only one man who was interested in men, but it was a closely guarded secret in
her village. He feared he’d be stoned and kept his feelings to himself.
Apparently people in this town weren’t afraid to discuss such things.

“Then I’ll be sure to keep my bum
away from you both.”

The woman laughed. “I do like you.
Welcome. What’s your name, dear?”

Tressa had thought of everything,
except a name. She took the first that came to her. “Sophia.” Her Granna would
be proud of her. After all, she was doing exactly what she’d been asked to do.
Escape the village, leave the fog, and change the world.

The woman’s nostrils flared again.
“Do you smell that?”

Tressa leapt to the door. “Fire!”

Smoke billowed in the hallway. She pulled her cloak
over her mouth and nose, breathing slowly.

A flurry of curse words permeated the
smoke.

“You’re a damn fine cook, Ira. I can
always expect a surprise at your inn.” A rough voice said, followed by an
unworried guffaw.

The smoke cleared out as quickly as
it started. Ira stood over a deep pot sitting in the hearth. His shoulders
hunched so far forward his neck seemed to disappear into his shirt.

“You, over here.” Ira pointed to
Tressa.

She curtsied, letting her blouse dip
low. Out of the corner of her eyes, she took a quick glance at the new man in
the room. Well dressed, clean, and coin jingling in a pouch hanging from his
hip. Repressing a smile, she quickly righted herself and made her way over to
the hearth. He was exactly the type of man she’d hoped would walk into the inn.
How fortunate he showed up her first day. She needed a man who could get her near
the queen. If she ever held court, Tressa might be able to get close enough to
kill her, ending the fog that held her people captive.

“Of course, milord.” She pretended
acquiescence to Ira.

“Milord?” the stranger asked.

Tressa bent over the pot, pretending
not to hear the man walking closer to her. His boots, heavy on the wood plank
floor kicked up the dirt that so badly needed sweeping.

“I’m sure he doesn’t pay you enough
to warrant a title like that.” The man stepped closer to her, close enough for
Tressa to feel his breath on the back of her neck.

Tressa let her hip slide a little to
the side, giving him a better view of what she had to offer. His breathing
paused for a moment and she stood up slowly, turning to face him. She held back
her loathing for the part she played. “It’s the tips from patrons like yourself
that keep me from starving.”

He laughed again. “Silly girl. You’re
just like all the others. I had hoped Ira finally hired a smart girl. It
appears he’s only interested in a girl who plies the tricks of a whore to make
her money.”

Tressa slapped him. His hand flew to
his pink cheek, her handprint still visible in white. “You may be right, but
you didn’t need to say it out loud like that,” she whispered.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t
buy it at all. You’re playing the trollop, and it’s a part you don’t play well.
You’re not an actress or a whore. So what are you?”

“None of your business. And I suggest
you leave before I hurt you worse than I just did.” Tressa didn’t know anything
about fighting. She’d have to continue to bluff her way through the
conversation until he left her alone. Maybe he’d never come back to the inn.
Another man would be better.

“Is she taking care of you, Leo?” Ira
sidled back over to them.

“Yes, brother, she’s a pleasant
conversationalist. You chose your new employee well.” He stroked Tressa’s
cheek. “Perhaps she can show me her other talents later.”

Tressa bit her lower lip, enduring
his touch. So they were brothers. One dazzled by her cleavage, the other fooled
by nothing. Leo’s hand left her cheek as soon as Ira turned back to the bar. Strangely,
she didn’t feel threatened.
Quite the opposite.
It
almost felt tender, fatherly.

“Who are you and why are you here?”
Leo’s freshly shaven head and goatee set him apart from the other men who were
quietly making their way downstairs from a rough night of drinking and whoring.
Their tousled hair was preceded by the stink of unwashed clothes and sweaty armpits.

“I’m but a maid, looking for
employment.” She kept to the ruse. There was no other choice. She’d get him to
go away and focus on finding another man who might be able to help her.

“I don’t buy that for a moment. Your
hands aren’t rough and there’s no stoop to your back.”

“I’m young and strong,” she
countered, still stirring, unsure how long she was supposed to do it. Ira
hadn’t given her any directions. If he had, she’d happily be serving the other
men instead of getting raked over the coals by his brother.

“There’s something different about
you. Your accent is wrong. Your hair is too long. Your attitude is too
forthright.” He placed his hands on his hips. “I’ve travelled extensively, yet
I cannot place you. Why is that?”

“Maybe because you’re not as smart as
you think you are.” Tressa tapped the spoon on the edge of the cauldron. “If
you’ll excuse me, I need to attend to my duties.”

Leo clamped a hand around her bicep.
“I will be watching you and I’ll figure out why you’re here.” He lowered his
voice. “But I must warn you. If you’re new to town, you must be told. Stay away
from the soldiers. They’ll take a woman like you and break her mentally and
physically. Don’t become one of their slaves,
chouchou
.”

“
Chouchou
?”

“Term of endearment.” He shrugged and
smiled. “You seem a nice girl.”

Tressa laughed, despite herself. “You
don’t know anything about me.”

“True. But sometimes we project more
than we realize.”

“I don’t know what you mean, milord.”
She shoved past him. All of her plans, so hastily made in the middle of the
night came crashing down around her. Avenging Connor, getting close enough to Stacia
to kill her,
then
saving her people.

Now with the morning sun streaming
in, waking up her exhausted mind, she wondered if she made a mistake. This was
going to be harder than she thought.

“Over here, girl.” Ira called out.
She maneuvered around the tables, the men settling in. A few pats on her bottom
from errant hands didn’t stop her.

Ira set bowls on the bar. “Take these
to the hearth. Fill them up with porridge and take one to each of the men. I’ll
divvy up the bread.” He tossed her a towel. “Make sure you use the towel when
the bowls are full or you’ll burn your hands.”

***

By the time the breakfast crowd
filtered out, it was time to prepare for lunch. When that was done, Tressa was
given a break, which she spent gossiping with Ira’s wife. Ira stayed far away.
His wife seemed to scare him.

During supper, the front door opened
with a flourish.

A hooded man stepped in, his cape
fluttering behind him in the breeze. The patrons began to clap, peppered with
much hooting and hollering. Long curly black hair peeked out from the edges of
the rough woolen hood. A scent of cinnamon and thyme wafted past Tressa as he
rushed to the stage in the back.

He slipped a rapier out from under
his cloak. The room fell silent. “Who will challenge me?”

Tressa stared at him, unsure if it
was a ruse or a true challenge. The men in the inn first treated him like a
friend,
then
they were watchful. It didn’t make any
sense to Tressa.

Another man stood up from a nearby
table. “I accept your challenge!” He pulled a sword from his hip, flourishing
it in the air.

The two men parried. Tressa leaned
against the bar, watching them whirl around each other, twisting and weaving
around the tables. The swords clanged and clashed. They slashed above the heads
of the patrons. Strangely, no one seemed concerned they were in danger. In
fact, within moments, they were cheering on the stranger and heckling the man
who’d been sitting amongst them.

“It’s a show,” Ira drawled in her
ear. “You looked concerned.”

“Oh, I knew that it was an act.” Tressa
didn’t, but there was no point in appearing naïve.

“He’s a traveling performer.
Works for tips.
I’m lucky he showed up tonight. The men will
drink more as long as he’s here.”

The faux battle continued on. When
the first man became exhausted, another stepped up to take his place. The men
seemed bent on besting the performer, but he never seemed to tire. He fought
just as smoothly from the moment he’d stepped into the inn.

The action moved around the bar until
they were dangerously close to Tressa. The hooded man grabbed Tressa around the
waist, pulling her close to him. He leaned over and whispered, “I know you’re
hiding from something. I can teach you how to hide in plain sight,
chouchou
.” Then he planted a big, wet kiss on her cheek.

The men cheered.

He let go, twirling her back to her
post by the bar. She steadied herself. Nothing looked the same. Not his gait,
nor his physique.
Only his eyes, penetrating blue eyes
sending her the truth over the heads of the men who were enthralled by the
show.
Leo.
Ira’s brother.

If it was true, and he could teach
her to be someone new, she just might be able to accomplish her goals.