maddening calm. “If you leave, then the respect and the money you’d provide the Guild would be lost. I have to account for that. This price is generous.”
“Generous,” Sam hissed.
But Celaena, her stomach churning, lifted her chin. She could keep throwing figures at him until she was blue in the face, but he’d obviously picked this number for a reason. He would not budge. It was one last slap in the face—one final twist of the knife meant only to punish her.
“I accept,” she said, giving him a bland smile. Sam whipped his head around, but she kept her eyes on Arobynn’s elegant face. “I’ll have the funds transferred to your account immediately. And once that’s done, we’re leaving—and I expect to never be bothered by you or the Guild again. Understood?”
Celaena rose to her feet. She had to get far away from here. Coming back had been a mistake. She shoved her hands in her pockets to hide how they were starting to tremble.
Arobynn grinned at her, and she realized he already knew. “Understood.”
“You had no right to accept his offer,” Sam raged, his face set with such fury that people along the broad city avenue practically jumped out of his way. “No right to do that without consulting me. You didn’t even bargain!”
Celaena peered into the shop windows as she walked by. She loved the shopping district in the heart of the capital—the clean sidewalks lined with trees, the main avenue leading right up to the marble steps of the Royal Theater, the way she could find anything from shoes to perfumes to jewelry to fine weapons.
“If we pay that, then we definitely need to find a contract before we leave!”
If we pay that. She said, “I am paying that.”
“Like hell you are.”
“It’s my money, and I can do what I want with it.”
“You paid for your debt and mine already—I’m not letting you give him another copper. We can find some way around paying this parting fee.”
They walked past the crowded entrance of a popular tea court, where finely dressed women were chatting with each other in the warm autumn sun.
“Is the issue that he demanded so much money, or that I’m paying it?”
Sam pulled up short, and though he didn’t look twice at the tea court ladies, they certainly looked at him. Even with anger rolling off him, Sam was beautiful. And too angry to notice that this was not the spot to argue.
Celaena grabbed his arm, yanking him along. She felt the eyes of the ladies on her as she did so. She couldn’t help a flicker of smugness as they took in her dark blue tunic with its exquisite gold embroidery along the lapels and cuffs, her fitted ivory pants, and her knee-high brown boots, made with butter-soft leather. While most women—especially the wealthy or noble-born ones—opted to wear dresses and miserable corsets, pants and tunics were common enough that her fine clothing wouldn’t have escaped the appreciation of the women idling outside the tea courts.
“The issue,” Sam said through his teeth, “is that I’m sick of playing his games, and I’d just as soon cut his throat as pay that money.”
“Then you’re a fool. If we leave Rifthold on bad terms, we’ll never be able to settle anywhere—not if we want to keep our current occupation. And even if we decided to find honest professions instead, I’d always wonder if he or the Guild would show up one day and demand that money. So if I have to give him every last copper in my bank account to ensure that I can sleep in peace for the rest of my life, so be it.”
They reached the enormous intersection at the heart of the shopping district, where the domed Royal Theater rose above streets packed with horses and wagons and people.
“Where do we draw the line?” Sam asked her quietly. “When do we say enough?”
“This is the last time.”
He let out a derisive snort. “I’m sure it is.” He turned down one of the avenues—in the opposite direction from home.
“Where are you going?”
He looked over his shoulder. “I need to clear my head. I’ll see you at home.” She watched him cross the busy avenue, watched until he was swallowed up by the hustle of the capital.
Celaena began walking, too, wherever her feet took her. She passed by the steps of the Royal Theater and kept walking, the shops and vendors blurring together. The day was blossoming into a truly lovely example of autumn—the