I heard his teeth click as though he realized that he’d said too much, and my heart skittered.

“Small things,” he added. “Sweets. Music. Novels. Things that violate the guild monopolies, but that are beneath the King’s notice. Like sketches.”

Or secret messages. And bribes.

“No,” I said, ignoring the guilt that flashed through me. “I’ll not have you risking your position by breaking the rules for me. But I do need to go.” Before he could say another word, I rushed out into the hall, skirts held up with one hand as I trotted with unladylike speed down the stairs and out into the city. I kept the same pace once I was in the market, searching the crowds of dark-haired trolls for a hint of yellow.

There.

I spotted him standing next to a mule, frowning as he stroked its neck. His father was deep in discussions with two merchantmen, which was just as well. The human jumped as I appeared next to him, causing the animal to snort in alarm until he calmed it with a practiced hand.

“I’m sorry for that,” I said. “He’s an ass sometimes. Most of the time, in fact.”

The boy – Christophe, I reminded myself – snorted out a burst of shocked laughter before clamping his mouth shut and looking around to see if he’d attracted any attention. “At least I get to leave,” he said. “You’re stuck here with him.”

“A valid point. Perhaps you might take pity and do me a kindness.” Holding up the sketch, I continued, “Would you like this?”

His tongue ran nervously over his lips. “I can’t afford to pay a fair price.”

“There is more than one way to pay,” I said. “What I’m looking for is information.”

As if sensing the tension of the situation, the mule snorted and tossed its head, and I glanced in his father’s direction to ensure we hadn’t caught his attention.

“What sort of information?”

“What are you retrieving from Trianon for Lord Marc?”

He hesitated. “I don’t know. They come in boxes, but my father would have my hide if I ever opened them.”

Boxes? What could possibly be in them? “But you go with him to retrieve these boxes?”

“Aye, my lady.” His answer came quick, his desire to provide sufficient information to retrieve his prize obvious.

“Can you tell me from whom you retrieve them?”

“A man with a cart meets us outside of Trianon.”

Such secrecy.

I hadn’t the slightest notion what they were retrieving, but it had to be something illicit to merit the secrecy. Which meant it would be something my father would find interesting.

“Thank you,” I said, telling myself I wasn’t doing anything wrong as I tucked the sketch into his coat. That this was all in Marc’s best interest, even if it didn’t feel that way. “Consider this bought and paid for.” Then I gave him my most winning smile, and turned and walked away.

Chapter 9

Marc

“Why do you insist on making my life more difficult than it already is?” I demanded, slamming the door to my office shut. “She’s furious at us both now.”