A Crown Of Blades(ARTK, Book 3)

Chapter 33-34

Anor 28th,3330 A.G.

Ysabelle could not tear her eyes away, nor could she remove the invisible(was that a word yet?) fabric pieces from her ears long enough to hear the woman speak. You see she had the habit of, and she weren't proud of it- losing any sense of logic around particularly beautiful women. And Braya.....

  Braya were certainly that. She and her brother had different tastes, that were for sure. She'd noticed how his eyes did not linger, how he could notice her face and move on. As soon as Ysabelle locked eyes, however- she thought of how she never wished to look away.

  After they'd gone, Braya had offered to show her to her guest chambers- and she'd spent the full walk over studying her face . The way her eyebrows managed to be both defined and bushy, the way her eyes were somehow bright and dark green at the same time- and how well her nose and lips fit in with the rest of her face. Her cheekbones were not particularly well defined, but every other part of her made up for it. Ysabelle spent a particularly long time on her hair; wishing she could reach out and run her hands through the red curls. They weren't like her own, no- they managed to look both soft and shiny without looking oily.

  And that were no small achievement, since she doubted the Simonett's could afford the most luxurious soaps. Their lack of extreme wealth were apparent in Braya's dress, a long sleeved and once dark (but now faded) green thing with three separate small holes.

  "I could get you a new one, yes." Braya's father had said just the previous week with a scowl on his face. "Or we could make sure our people are fed, and you can convince one of your numerous lovers to get you a damn dress."

  Braya had felt stupid for even asking, and he really drove that deep. She glanced sideways at this other lady, the sister of Kroba's commanding lord- and got an idea. Growing up she'd never had the luxury of being able to buy what she wanted when she wanted. They always had to think, plan around how much coin they'd have left after a purchase. Some months they could afford a new carriage and a ship, others they'd struggle to put meat on the table and their servants would have to resort to hunted.

  So she'd learned a trick or two. Travelers made great lovers; that were something she'd figured out at just fifteen. They were more likely to waste coin on frivolous things, and by the time they realized what a mistake they'd made- Braya would be holding her fancy soaps that she'd purchased from a woman at House Mallor.

  She stopped in front of the lady Ysabelle's guest chambers and smiled; making sure to use the one that got them every time.

  "My lady." She bowed her head slightly, working hard to keep the smirk from the corners of her lips.

  When Ysabelle said nothing , she looked up and-

  She were raising an eyebrow.

  "I know what you're doing." The lady Ysabelle said. "I'm not stupid.... though I can't say I mind. I've had my fair share of lovers who were simply using me for the gifts that came along with it. Tell me; you are very beautiful. Why have you not found some rich lord somewhere who would give you those gifts continuously?"

  Braya's mouth opened and closed over and over again. None had ever seen through her- well if they had, they never said so....

  This one would be hard work, but the truth would help her.

  She shrugged, closed the few steps between them and leaned forward ever so slightly- until their faces were almost touching.

  "I was never into the lords." She whispered. "They're often too loud, drunk, and rarely treat their wives well. Now I imagine I could put up with some of that, but sooner or later my patience would wean- and I'd find a dagger just the right size for burying in their eye. And why does it have to be a lord? I've heard there are plenty of ladies who feel the same way."