Read Online The Fall of Ventaris by Neil McGarry, Daniel Ravipinto, Amy Houser - Free Book Online

involving herself in petty disputes. Yet did she dare risk Antony’s ire, or the Uncle’s, by refusing? She was still living on the Uncle’s florin in a rent-free apartment, a fact she was sure had not been lost on him. On the other side of the coin, this was a chance to get into Antony’s good graces, an investment that might prove as profitable as her dealings with Jana. Besides, gold was gold, and if she could somehow get back that ring for less than twenty florin she could pocket the difference. That decided her. “Antony, my friend,” she said soothingly, “put your worries aside. The ring will be yours.”
    *   *   *
    She sat up a long time after Antony had taken his leave looking at the small pile of florin he’d left. Three plans, two promises, and not one notion of how to make good on any of them. Commitments to Jana and Antony, not to mention her little scheme about Pollux...perhaps Lysander was right. Perhaps she truly was mad.  
    Noam had once said the only way to eat a flock of sheep was one bite at a time, and since Antony had put gold on the table, she’d make recovering Rosamile’s ring the first item on the menu. Although Julius was no redcap, he might still be dangerous. She wasn’t going to brace him without further information, and she knew of at least one person who could tell her all that she’d need.
    And, now that she thought on it, not just about Julius.

Chapter Four: A thorn amongst roses

    Despite the name, the Common Gardens were anything but. Only those with sufficient title or wealth could obtain space there in Temple District, and it was mostly given over to petty nobility — those with an interest in cultivating plants and flowers but without a large enough estate to support a garden of their own. That morning, Duchess found the wide stone pathways thronged with the wives of the well born, moving sedately and directing attendants in weeding, watering, and pruning. The silk and satin of their gowns were no less colorful than the floral blooms of yellow, red, and orange.
    The gardens were enclosed by thick stone walls and a glass ceiling, which kept the area warm in winter and stifling at any other time. Despite the airways created by panels propped open here and there, Duchess mopped sweat from her brow, but Minette seemed untroubled by something as unseemly as perspiration. In no case would someone from the Shallows, particularly one who owned and operated a brothel, be permitted a plot in the Common Gardens.  
    Nevertheless, Minette had a plot in the Common Gardens.
    She moved among her botanical charges even now, with Duchess trailing behind, carrying a basket half-filled with an explosion of blossoms in white, red and pink. Yarrow, Minette said they were called, and Duchess thought them quite pretty. She remembered them from the garden on her father’s estate, and that they had been Marguerite’s favorites.
    “So when do I find out what’s got you practically bursting with questions?” Minette murmured, bringing Duchess out of her memories. The elegant woman was taller than Duchess and far more full-figured, yet she moved amongst the flowers with a comfortable agility. Her freshly powdered face was a stark white in the rare Rodaasi sun, particularly against the black ringlets of her hair and her even blacker eyes.
    “Don’t tell me I drew you away from a good song,” Duchess replied archly. A gentleman had been serenading the Vermillion’s mistress when Duchess had shown up earlier that day, desperate for a meeting. Her request had been granted in exchange for assistance in gathering flowers, hence the trip to the gardens.
    “Anything that’s got you in such a state is worth missing a verse or two. In any case, Marvis had just about used up his time.”
    Duchess gave her a look. “His time? Don’t tell me he’s a client ?”
    Minette lifted an elegantly arched eyebrow. “Don’t look so surprised, my dear. Not every man who passes my parlor ends up between the