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Chapter 2
Bellamy

There is nothing in the world quite like a fine wine. Bellamy knew this and lived by it. The other truth he knew was that there was nothing in the world quite like a fine woman. This one was slightly harder, as fine women were, in his opinion, hard to come by, and so he made do with the harlots that the first truth brought to him. A swarthy complexion, piercing blue eyes, and a working knowledge of the finer points of carousing were the three blessings that made Bellamy so successful on his almost nightly trips into the upper-class districts of whatever city he happened to be drifting through at the time.

A quick hand and a sturdy knife didn’t hurt, either.

The girl sitting on his lap at that moment was, if he recalled correctly, named Elise. She was fortunate that she was very attractive and easily charmed, because if she hadn’t been then Bellamy would have become annoyed with her an hour or two ago. But since she was nice to look at and willingly succumbed to the wiles of Bellamy le Roi, the Scoundrel of Sesseur, she was allowed to stay for now.

Patting her gently on the head, Bellamy slid Elise off his lap and back into her own chair as he stood and motioned the waiter over. Overpaying the bill—with money he had acquired from a thoroughly drunk and fabulously wealthy noblewoman the previous night—he motioned for Elise to follow him into the restaurant’s courtyard. It was around to the alley from there (Can you believe a restaurant of that caliber has such a thing?) and Bellamy remained quite the gentleman until Elise was exhausted and gasping for air on the ground. “Bell, dear,” she breathed, raising up onto her elbows, “what are we going to…Bell? Bellamy?” She was alone.

Another notch in the belt of Bellamy le Roi, the Scoundrel of Sesseur.

*****

Soldiers. Bellamy hated soldiers. While the tension they brought with them sometimes made it easier for him to get pleasurable company, they also made it harder for him to conduct his…other business. These weren’t normal soldiers, either. These were Gray Wolf Knights, supposedly the best Vankadi had to offer. Cursing to himself, Bellamy slipped away through the crowd watching the Knights’ procession and into an shadowy alleyway.

Or rather, he would have, if a mess of blonde-streaked red hair hadn’t suddenly appeared under his nose, accompanied by a elbow in his stomach. “Bellamy!” came a shrill cry from just below his field of vision. Dropping his head down—well, that was a mistake. A fist shot up into his nose and sent him reeling back.

“Dammit, Aithne!” Bellamy hollered, clutching his nose with one hand and holding the other between himself and the girl. “What did I do to deserve that?”
“You abandoned me last night to go around with that whore!” she screeched, coming at him again. Bellamy nimbly took hold of her wrists, ducked around behind her, and held them there.

“Aithne, calm down…and stop squirming!” Bellamy growled. “I’ll let you come with me tonight if you calm down, okay?” She immediately stopped struggling, and Bellamy slowly released her.

She whirled around and leveled a finger at his nose. “I’ll get to go inside? You won’t make me stand in the street and watch for people again?”

Bellamy held up his hands and took a step back. “Tell you what. I’ll stand guard. How’s that sound?” He could have gotten rid of her if he’d wanted to, but Bellamy was fond of the girl. She wasn’t a particularly good partner—and too young to do other things with—but she was, after all, his biggest fan. She’d stalked him from city to city, begging him to teach her how to be a thief and manipulator, and Bellamy had agreed to give her what she needed to get started. But now she was getting too eager. Maybe letting her run a job basically on her own would calm her down, Bellamy reasoned.

*****

It was cold, but that was to be expected. Bellamy huddled against the side of the house, hands jammed into his pockets, eyes flicking up and down the street. Aithne had been inside for an hour. That worried him, but he’d promised to give her extra time because she was still so new to this.

Clack. Somebody kicked a loose cobblestone. Backing further into the shadows, Bellamy slid his knife out of its sheath. A man in a long, gray overcoat appeared around the corner and made his way down the middle of the street. His face was obscured, so there was no way of knowing how dangerous he was.

Bellamy almost cursed out loud when the man approached the door of the house Aithne was in. Casting a wild glance around, he realized that there was nothing he could do for her short of attacking the man outright. Knife in hand, Bellamy crept along in the shadows towards his target.

Clack. “Not again,” Bellamy hissed audibly, turning to see a group of what appeared to be prostitutes walking in his direction. Looking back, he saw with horror that the man in the overcoat had entered his house and closed the door.

There was nothing he could do but walk away.