1 State of Grace Read Online Free PDF Page A

face. He drummed his fingers patiently. Silverleaf had changed the dynamic of the game. By making his outrageous bet, Sir Leslie had to either accept or forfeit. Because the ambassador always won, Sir Leslie had to consider whether it was worth risking another thousand gold to see if Silverleaf’s luck had at last run out.
    “ All right, Ambassador,” Sir Leslie replied at last, mopping sweat from his brow. “I’ll see your thousand. There’s no way out of this.”
    Sir Leslie’s confidence seemed to settle the observers. Nearly all of them placed bets on the sideboard supporting the fat noble.
    “Last call for bets, ladies and gentlemen,” a croupier announced.
    “Three hundred on the ambassador,” Wolf said.
    The room fell silent. Everyone turned to stare at the newcomer. Wolf smiled roguishly. Silverleaf looked him over with disdain.
    “Are you sure, Mr.—?” the croupier asked.
    “Dasher,” Wolf replied. “Yes, I’m quite sure.” He turned his attention to Silverleaf and met his stony gaze. “I’m sure the ambassador doesn’t want to lose for the first time.”
    They held each other’s eyes for a moment. No one said anything. The croupier broke the tension.
    “Your wages, Mr. Dasher?” he said.
    “Oh, forgive me,” Wolf said, turning away at last. He produced a sack of gold coins from his belt and placed it on the sideboard.
    “You may play, Ambassador,” the croupier said.
    Silverleaf returned his attention to Sir Leslie. He tapped his fingers twice on the board and then drew a card. The moment he did, Wolf saw something no one else in the room saw – a flash of magic. Wolf’s Shadow abilities allowed him to perceive its unique energy when it was in use. That was how he knew the light in the Dubonney Club was magical. When Silverleaf drew a card, his left hand flashed green from the eldritch energy it expended. Something was up.
    “It seems Mr. Dasher’s confidence was well placed, Sir Leslie,” Silverleaf said as he stared at the card he had drawn. He placed it face up on the table. “Gargantuan.”
    There was an audible moan from the observers. Sir Leslie’s shoulders sank.
    “I’m afraid that by playing that card on my dragon, I can double its attack and defense values,” Silverleaf continued. “That will be more than sufficient to deal with your soldiers and siege engines.”
    “Bloody hell, Ambassador,” Sir Leslie said. “How can you always draw exactly the card you need when you’re in trouble?”
    “What can I say, Sir Leslie?” Silverleaf replied with a smug smile. “It’s magic.”
    Of course, Wolf thought as Sir Leslie grumbled about his misfortune. He was disgusted. He hated cheaters.
    “How did you know?” the shabby noble asked Wolf.
    “You told me,” Wolf said through his teeth. “He never loses.”
    “Sagaius,” a woman with a thick Gallican accent whined. “When are you going to buy me a dreenk?”
    Wolf caught sight of her and was immediately aroused. She had gorgeous, soft-white skin, immaculately manicured fingernails, and luscious, raven-black hair that fell halfway down her back. Her eyes were an icy blue and were set wide apart over a button nose and two perfectly plump lips, which were painted a deep red. The lower one was stuck out in an exaggerated pout. She wore an orange gown designed to show off her lean body. It plunged dangerously low and was cut out on the sides and back, making it impossible for her to wear undergarments. As he stared at her, Wolf discovered his codpiece wasn’t fitting comfortably.
    “Not now,” the ambassador snapped at her. “I’m in the middle of a game.”
    Before he had time to think about it, Wolf made a move.
    “May I be permitted to buy the lady a drink?” he said.
    Silverleaf stared at him again. He searched Wolf looking for his motive.
    “Why would you want to do so?” he asked at last.
    “Ambassador,” Wolf replied as though it should be obvious. “You just won me three hundred gold. Consider