Chapter Thirty-eight

 

Entering Garton’s shop, Stern was wearing a look of annoyance. When Garton looked his way, Stern put on a professional smile. “Garton, I do apologize about yesterday. A family retainer ended up injured, and I was called away to deal with getting them proper treatment. The fool tried to hide the injury from me.”

 

Garton went from annoyed to understanding. “Ah. They are okay?”

 

“They are healing, but I will be reiterating— strenuously— my disappointment, as it interrupted my plans yesterday. Now, I was thinking... would you happen to have a manor inside the walls instead of outside of them? I find that I can just seclude myself and send my useful staff out for what I need. I do hate being kept waiting, and outside the city would mean waiting for anything useful.”

 

“Sadly, I do not have such buildings available,” Garton said with a tight smile.

 

“A pity,” Stern said. “You would know who does, though, surely?”

 

“Of course,” Garton said stiffly.

 

“As you can guess, I prefer to deal with as few people as possible,” Stern said. “So we can come to an arrangement, I’m sure? I’ll pay you, and you can arrange the accommodation for me. This way, you can still profit from my change of plans, and for the inconvenience of yesterday.”

 

Garton stared at him in shock for a moment. “I could do that. What family are you with?”

 

“It’s best if I don’t say. As you can guess, it would reflect badly on them. I’ve always been the black sheep of the family.”

 

“Of course,” Garton said, quickly backing away from the subject. “It would take me a few hours to arrange this.”

 

“I dislike waiting,” Stern said. “Two weeks, no staff to be on hand. If you can make it happen within the hour,” he pulled a large gold from his pouch, “this is the payment, and the change is yours.”

 

Garton’s eyes went wide and he reached for the coin. “I can make that happen, sir.”

 

Stern let him take the coin, then looked around the shop. “Go on. I’ll take a look over your inventory and see if any are worthy of my… attendants.”

 

Garton rang a bell and started to edge toward the door. “Please take your time, sir.”

 

“You need me?” Garton’s wife asked as she came down the stairs into the shop.

 

“Watch the shop, and assist him if he requires,” Garton told the woman before he hurried away.

 

Stern gave the middle-aged woman a smile. “I do not need help. I’m just going to peruse the inventory while I wait for him to complete the business deal.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Garton’s wife said, wondering what had happened with her husband.

 

Stern walked around the shop, looking over the scanty women’s clothing. He did his best to remain passive, though a few of the ensembles did make his face heat a little. Cammie followed Stern, her face flushed a deep red as she looked over the outfits. She couldn’t help but think of what they’d look like on her, or Trish and Cyra.

 

It was just under an hour when Garton came back into the shop. He was breathing a little fast, and had to blot the sweat from his forehead, but he was back before the hour expired. “Sir… I have… the keys,” he panted.

 

Stern turned from a red silk outfit. “Excellent. Two weeks and no staff, correct?”

 

“Yes, they’ll be gone within the hour, and the manor will be in perfect order for you.”

 

“I knew we could do business together,” Stern smiled. “Now, I would like a couple of these outfits. This one,” Stern said, pointing to a black velvet piece that would cover, but broadly hinted at everything covered. “And this one.” The second one was red silk that was sheer enough to see through and would do nothing to conceal the body underneath.

 

Garton was regaining his breath and smiled broadly. “Of course, sir. Do you happen to know the measurements?”

 

“I will send them along in the next day or two. My assistant here,” he nodded toward Cammie, “will be with them, so you’ll know they’re the right ones.” Stern paused, hating what he was about to say, but played into his role. “In fact...” he went on, looking back at Cammie, “if you want an outfit yourself, pick it up then. I do owe you for informing me about the incident.”

 

Cammie’s face went crimson and she shifted uncertainly, her eyes darting to the outfits he’d picked out for Cyra and Trish. She wanted to object, but couldn’t voice the words, flustered at even the hint of her in such clothing.

 

“How much would three of these run me?” Stern asked Garton.

 

“Since we already have an established relationship, and I can see you are a man of culture as well,” Garton laughed, “let’s say five large silver. I’ll make sure the outfits they take with them are perfectly tailored for them.” He held up a hand. “My wife does the measuring, so no fear on that account.”

 

Stern nodded, pulling a small gold coin out. “I’ll need change for this one, I’m afraid. Or not…” Stern slowed as he looked over the room again. “I’ll give you this and we’ll say... six outfits between them. Deal?”

 

“Deal,” Garton said quickly.

 

“Very well. The keys please, and where is this place?” Stern said, handing over the gold coin.

 

~*~*~

 

They were heading back to the inn, having left Garton’s a handful of minutes ago, when Cammie found her voice. “Stern... I can’t wear any of those.”

 

Stern exhaled. “I’m sorry about that, Cammie. I really am.” He felt the embarrassment from her, but also the wistfulness. “You never have to wear one, but I need you to accept one, at least, if not two. The others will insist it’s equal, I’m sure. If you just turn around and sell them or give them away, I won’t gainsay you. I’m really sorry for putting you in that position.”

 

Cammie exhaled, but a small spark of disappointment rose in her heart. “Thank you. I’ll talk with them about it.”

 

“I’m going to ask an indelicate question,” Stern said slowly, wondering if he was going too far, but wanting to know. “Why can you never wear one?”

 

Cammie’s face burned. “You saw them. I’m not…” She couldn’t say what she’d been going to say.

 

“I see.”

 

Cammie’s face burned hotter. “You can feel why.”

 

“Just the emotions,” Stern said. “You don’t think you’d look good in them?”

 

“Yes...” Cammie whispered, mortified, but also a little elated that she could have an honest conversation without being judged.

 

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit,” Stern said honestly. “Talk with Trish and Cyra when they go with you. I bet they would say the same thing as I am. I know they’re hoping to go shopping with you for dresses, at the very least.”

 

“Dresses?” Cammie asked.

 

“We do fancy dinners, occasionally,” Stern said. “It’s why I have the suit.”

 

“Oh...” She paused. “It’s not because of your family?”

 

“They did fancy dinners at times and we had to dress up,” Stern said, brushing at his dark suit.

 

“It looks good on you,” Cammie said before her face combusted again.

 

Stern chuckled awkwardly. “I feel like a freshly-embalmed corpse. Trish and Cyra side with you, though I just don’t see it that way.”

 

“They’re right. I think it helps soften your severe features. You look aristocratic, but in a good way.”

 

Stern laughed. “Thanks?”

 

Cammie covered her face with a hand. “I…” She trailed off, sighing.

 

“I know what you felt. It’s a little flattering. Honestly, Cammie. Try one on when you go and ask them. They’ll be honest with you. We try to hold to only honesty with each other. Even when it might hurt, it helps make sure that we don’t start down the wrong path.”

 

Nodding slowly, Cammie considered what he said and thought back to the outfits in Garton’s. Most of them, she’d rather die than be seen in, but there had been a white silk and lace outfit that had been rather cute. She imagined wearing it with Trish in the red silk and Cyra in the black velvet, then giggled.

 

Stern smiled when he felt her happiness and heard the giggle. Maybe I didn’t make a complete mess of that conversation. Thank the Goddess. I shouldn’t have done that, but I want her to be one of us past this city, Stern thought. Shaking his head, he focused on getting to the inn and moving to their new place for the next few weeks.

 

~*~*~

 

It took them a couple of hours to shift from the inn to the manor inside the city. Stern left a large thank you to the innkeeper, and set up a small fund for them to give the helpful Walkers each a drink if they showed up.

 

By the time they finished with the move and got settled, it was well into the afternoon. Cyra said she would cook, asking Vulk to go invite Emma. Stern went with Vulk to give the women a chance to talk, as he could feel the need within Cammie.

 

Side-by-side, the mismatched pair strolled down the street. They got a lot of looks— partly because of the sheer difference between the two of them, and partly because of Stern being irregular.

 

“Would you have done that if Pawly hadn’t been there to help?” Vulk asked suddenly.

 

“Yes,” Stern said. “I meant it when I said I was responsible for you as a member of my crew, Vulk. I’m sure Trish would have found a way to get me free.”

 

“It would have broken Cyra and Trish if he’d killed you,” Vulk said with some heat to his voice.

 

“He wasn’t going to kill me quickly,” Stern snorted. “No, he wanted to pay me back. If given the chance, he would have taken weeks to torture me. I’m sure he would have used salve and other alchemical means to keep me alive for it.”

 

“You can’t know that,” Vulk growled.

 

“I can,” Stern said sadly. “Just as I know you’re upset, but also worried, that I would give myself over so easily. Victor Bloodcoin was filled with anger... anger so bright and hot he wouldn’t slake it with a quick kill.”

 

Vulk fell silent for a few minutes before he sighed. “Thanks.”

 

“Part of the crew,” Stern said, then glanced at Vulk. “And a friend?” The last three words were a question.

 

Vulk nodded. “Haven’t had a friend in years, but because of you, I was able to approach Emma. That alone would make you a cherished friend to the end of my life, even if she spurns me.”

 

“She’s not going to spurn you,” Stern said. “She loves you, Vulk. Deeply, madly, truly loves you, just as you do her.”

 

Vulk’s face heated, which was clear to see without his beard. “Loves a beardless dwarf…”

 

“Loves the man, not his face… because with a face like that…” Stern said, then jumped aside when Vulk threw an elbow at him.

 

“Look here, bony, don’t go knocking what I look like,” Vulk said, a touch of humor and happiness coming from him.

 

“I might be bony, but two women love me just as much as Emma does you, so they must like…” Stern’s mouth snapped shut, cutting off his words.

 

Vulk laughed. “Yeah, I’m not touching that line.”

 

“Sorry. My family is always doing that, and it started to get away from me.”

 

“If… If I don’t go on… would you take Cammie with you?”

 

“Cammie is always welcome with us, as are you, Vulk. Are you already set to stay here?”

 

“Emma might ask, and if I have to choose… it’s going to be Emma.”

 

“I thought it might be,” Stern said softly. “What about your mother?”

 

Vulk’s gut twisted and his emotions tangled. “I…”

 

“What if she showed up here in the next week? Then what?” Stern asked when Vulk paused for a few seconds. “If you didn’t have to run, then what?”

 

“I’d stay,” Vulk said without hesitation, then licked his lips, “if Emma wants me to.”

 

“She’ll want you to,” Stern said. “She doesn’t want to stop you from your goal, either.”

 

Vulk stopped walking, closing his eyes as he let that information sink deep into him. The joy in his heart soared. “Thank you, my friend.”

 

“At least this curse can do some good,” Stern told Vulk. “Now, come on. Cyra’s cooking, and we don’t want to run late.”

 

“I noticed you gave me the only bedroom in the west wing,” Vulk said.

 

“Thought you might like the privacy,” Stern chuckled. “The attached bath has a lot to say for it. If the east wing didn’t have a similar room, though… well…”

 

“I hear you,” Vulk laughed as he started walking again. “Tomorrow off?”

 

“Tomorrow off. Back to training the day after?”

 

“Yes. If Emma says she won’t stop me, then I need to train.”

 

“We’ll be here for at least two more weeks, so enjoy the time you have.”

 

“I will… uhm, does Cammie know?”

 

“She said she’d call Emma ‘sister.’”

 

Vulk exhaled a deep breath. “Thank you, Goddess.”

 

“I always wondered,” Stern said idly, “what I’d do if she responded when I said that.”

 

“Freak out?” Vulk suggested.

 

“Very possibly,” Stern conceded.