She was painfully aware that Bo had offered to shelter her and Jakob for three days. That had been nine days ago, and she wasn’t entirely certain why he hadn’t forced them out into the street. A Privileged seemed the last type of person to whom she would want to owe a favor, so when he mentioned that he had several pairs of ripped gloves that needed mending, she volunteered.
That was before she knew that the stitching on Privileged’s gloves had to be perfect. Absolutely perfect.
She wondered why else he’d let them stay. Perhaps he expected to bed her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that he was watching her. He seemed to do that a lot, but only when he thought she wouldn’t notice. It made her nervous.
But he’d given her and Jakob food, shelter, and the first pleasant company she’d had in a long time. He was calm, quiet, and hadn’t tried to force himself on her. Yet.
Every time she started to wonder what it would be like to let herself sleep with him, she had to remind herself of Dourford, splattered across the street. Bo wasn’t just a man. He was a Privileged. Privileged were dangerous people.
“This requires a skilled seamstress,” Nila said. “I can sew, but this is — ”
“You’re doing fine.”
She returned to her task. She’d managed to finish three of the twelve gloves he’d stashed away for repair. Whether any of them could be used…
“Will you really burn from the inside out if I do these wrong?” Nila asked.
“No.”
“You git!”
“They won’t work, though. Which is just as likely to get me killed.” Bo set his book to one side and climbed to his feet, joining her at the table. He put on one of the finished gloves and snapped his fingers. “Nothing. This one won’t do.” He tried on another glove. “Nor this.” He tossed the two useless gloves in their own pile and put on the third. Again, he snapped his fingers.
A small flame appeared at the tips of his fingers. The flame went out and he removed the glove, putting it in his pocket. “This will. Excellent.”
“Do you want me to…” Nila reached for the two useless gloves.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll dispose of those ones.”
For a moment she thought he was going to return to his pillow and his book. Instead, he pulled out a chair and sat down. He kicked out another chair with his feet and put them up, leaning back with his hands folded behind his head. “Where’s the boy? I haven’t heard a peep out of him all day.”
“He’s playing in his room. I told him to keep quiet so that you could read.”
“Very considerate of you.”
Nila made a mistake in her stitching. She cursed under her breath and pulled the needle back out to try again. Why was he watching her? What did he want?
“You’re a very good-looking girl. Did you know that?”
Oh. That was why. Nila felt her heart skip a beat. She’d heard rumors that Privilegeds had a powerful sex drive. That cabal Privileged each had several concubines, and that few women could resist them.
“I’ve been told that before,” Nila said.
“You should wear your hair back more often. It helps display those cheekbones.”
Nila didn’t trust herself to speak. Had he asked about Jakob because he was hoping to get her alone? Would he give her an ultimatum: Either get out or come to my bed? Nila resolved not to do it. She still had her silver hidden outside the city. She’d been thinking about this ever since Bo first took them in. She’d get the silver and take Jakob northeast into Novi. They would head to the capital and get a small house there, and she’d take up as a laundress.
Bo opened his mouth.
“Do your parents live in the city?”
“I won’t…! What?”
“Your parents,” Bo said. “Do they live in the city?”
Nila was taken aback by the question. “My parents are dead,” she answered curtly. This wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. “I’m an orphan.”
“Oh,” Bo said. “Sorry to hear that.”
“I never knew them.”
Bo was staring at the ceiling. His tone was wistful. “I knew my father a little before he died. I spent some time in an orphanage, too. Then out on the streets for me.”
Nila almost laughed. Was this how he’d try to get her to bed? Make them feel some kind of kinship? “And then the royal cabal?”
“No. First Taniel Two-Shot. And then his father, Tamas, took me in. That’s where the dowsers found me. Did you ever get tested as a child?”
Bo knew Field Marshal Tamas? He’d been adopted by him? That seemed far-fetched. “Tested?”
“By the cabal dowsers. For ability.”
Nila saw another mistake she’d made. She pulled out the needle and used the tip to pick out the thread. “Of course. They came to the orphanage every year.”
“You should try again,” Bo said. He removed a pair of gloves from his pockets and tossed them on the table. “Sometimes the dowsers miss someone.”
Nila wanted to roll her eyes. He was still flirting with her. She could tell by the tiny smile at the corners of his mouth, and by the playful tone of his voice. “I don’t think so.”
“Suit yourself.” Bo put the gloves back in his pocket.
