Dad Hears My Thoughts novel · Chapter 23 of 32

Chapter 23: The Buyer

The King went out through the door behind the throne, and the court let its breath go.

Ralph came past us on his way to the doors.

He didn't stop. He only leaned in toward me as he passed, smelling of clove and wine.

"A rich widow is still a widow, cousin," he murmured. "Wear black. It suits cutters."

Then he was gone, and the captain after him.

Tristram stood looking at the empty throne.

"Nineteen days," he said.

"Nineteen days is a long time."

"Not for a stone I can't hand in." He rubbed his face. "I put it on her cushion, and Ralph walks."

The baby was asleep on the Duke's shoulder, worn out by her own clapping.

The old man looked at me over her curls.

"You've got a face on you," he said. "My wife used to get that face."

"I'm thinking, Your Grace."

"Think quietly. This hall has ears."

At four o'clock I told Tristram I was going down to see to my broken shop door.

It was true. The widow had sent word the chandler had boarded it up for me.

I saw to it. It took two minutes.

Then I walked on down to the quay with my hood up and the Sun Diamond in my bodice.

The gaming rooms were above a ships' chandlery on the far quay, up a stair that smelled of tar and spilled wine.

Nobody stopped me at the door. Women came up those stairs for all sorts of reasons.

Inside it was hot, low and loud.

Men in good coats bent over green tables. Dice rattled. Somebody swore in a language from across the sea.

Ralph sat at the far table with his back to the wall and a heap of markers in front of him that was mostly gone.

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