food of my sweet Dehtzlan. But more than that, I thirst for information. What can you tell me of the politics at court?”
“I would prefer to tell you nothing.”
Corin showed him a worried frown. “Have things truly grown so bad?”
“I am not a powerful man, milord, and I have no one to protect me. Ask me for wine or rooms, but do not speak to me of court.”
“Very well. And you have rooms to rent?”
“One or two, upstairs.”
“Just one,” Corin said, snatching up his purse. “And see it’s clean. I’ll take my meal down here while that’s arranged.”
“I assure you, all our rooms are clean—”
Corin cut him off. “Even so! I am rich in standards and poor in patience. See it done.” He turned away and took two steps toward a corner table before calling back with easy authority, “And don’t forget the wine!”
Corin fell into a chair with his back to the wall. No news to a stranger, eh? That didn’t entirely confirm the druids’ suspicions, but it proved they were not alone in their paranoia. Corin would have preferred hard information over such scanty confirmation, but at least he had finally succeeded in procuring food. The duck smelled fat and seasoned, and any wine at all could satisfy Corin’s palate. Best of all, the request for a room suggested settling at dawn, so he could likely get away without paying a livre for the lordly meal.
Feeling mighty pleased, the pirate laced his fingers together behind his head, rocked back in his chair, and looked right into the eyes of the purple-robed lady whose purse he’d snatched. Corin’s mind raced as she surveyed the room. How could she have caught him? He’d been careful. And how could she have followed his weaving path through the crowded plaza? But surely she hadn’t stumbled into the same inn. What would be the chances? She gave a little squeak as soon as their eyes met, and in a flash she came to loom over his table.
For the first time, Corin noticed how bloodshot her eyes were. Harried. The corners were lined with old worry, and her stunning red hair showed here and there the fragile gray of much misfortune. She was not old; everything about her spoke of springtime youth, but it was one much muted by malingering frost.
Pity flushed warm and sudden in the pirate’s cruel heart, and right behind it burned a pang of guilt, but he suppressed them both as he rolled smoothly to his feet. He bent in a smooth bow, securing the purloined purse more perfectly beneath his cloak, then offered her a smile.
“Good even to a lovely lady. May I serve you in some way?”
Her troubled eyes narrowed. “You sneaking, thieving wretch!”
He didn’t let himself scan the room again for guards. He held her eyes and frowned in mock confusion. “Have we met, milady?”
She jabbed a finger at his face, threatening. “You accosted me in the Piazza Primavera.”
A couple at a nearby table turned in shock, and some gentlemen two tables over started to their feet, but Corin made a soothing gesture and met the lady with a surprised recognition. “Gods’ blood, that was you, wasn’t it? What fortune brings you across my path again? If you’ve come to demand a more intimate and…prolonged apology for our earlier encounter, I’ll be delighted to comply.”
“You will truly pretend you don’t know why I’m here?”
Corin shrugged. “I have always been a lucky man. Today need be no different.”
She held her glare for a heartbeat longer than Corin had expected her to, but still, it broke. Uncertainty creased her pretty brow, and once again the pirate had to hide a smile. These nobles were predictable.
He swept a hand toward the table. “Sit with me a while, and we shall clear the matter up. Some wine is on the way, and the barman won’t complain to bring another glass.”
No sooner had he spoken than the barman proved it true, delivering the open bottle and two glasses, then deftly departing before he could become involved. Corin poured a glass of dark-red wine and passed it to the lady. “To chance encounters and friendly fortunes?”
She cocked her head, outrage and indignation broken up and scattered by Corin’s self-assurance. Her hand was still extended, hanging between them in a forgotten accusation. “But…you…”
Corin pressed the glass into her hand and drew a chair for her to sit. “But I would be your friend. Whatever misunderstanding there is between us, I have every confidence we