Chapter 41

Watching them file through the entrance, leaving him behind with his stage at his heels, was always the hardest part.

Seb rolled his neck, grimacing against the stink of his sweat that no amount of cheap cologne could mask. He’d been lax about laundry since arriving in Brookburn, courtesy of the appeal of a certain frustrating local, but tonight, he’d rectify that, skip supper and give everything he owned a thorough wash. First appearances were key. He’d believed that even before Bertie had drilled it into his head. He couldn’t promise the world if he looked like he was as trapped in it as they were.

A quick rinse and change now would do more wonders than lunch. Decision made, he slipped under the ropes cordoning off the rest of the midway and headed for his tent.