I hopehe is all right. Let me know if you want a friend to join you. For anything you might be doing today or tomorrow. I can talk to Rustion if you need me.
A friend.That label hits like an arrow to my chest. But it shouldn’t. I write him back telling him I’ll be fine. He’s likely also referring to my statement that I would confront Tully. Pushing all those worries away for a bit, I make some cucumber sandwiches. to go with my tea. At the table, I dig into my little meal and watch the dancing flames in the hearth. I’m impressed that Leafshire has cucumbers this late in the year, but it has been a mild autumn, so I guess it makes sense.
When I’m finishing up and tidying, a scratch sounds at the door. It’s Spark. He’s back and looking messy but not unwell in any way. He runs a circle around my legs but then, panting, heads for his pile of quilts.
“You’re puzzling me, Sparkly Sparkson. We are going to the healer tomorrow to make sure you’re not sick. All right?”
He huffs as if he thinks this is a dumb idea. I toss him the crust of my last sandwich, and he catches it neatly. He tosses his head as he gobbles it down. That’s normal for him, so maybe I’m fretting over nothing.
Chapter 9
Laini
Rom has his back to me when I climb the last of the tower’s winding steps and enter the very top, open floor. He is redoing a knot in the bell’s pull rope.
“Hello!” I say too loudly. Stones, I’m nervous. What will he say? I’m sweating my arse off with nerves here.
He turns and dips his chin, his expression lost in the dark of the cloak’s hood. “Welcome.” His tone of voice betrays no emotion. I can’t tell if he’s all right with me being here or if he is angry. “I’ll be done in just a second.”
I adjust my grip on my bag—I brought my yellow apron, a rolling pin, and a few other cooking items just in case he doesn’t have them. He finishesthe knot and gestures for me to follow him to the far side of the tower’s top floor.
“What did the healer say about Spark?” Rom glances at me over his big shoulder.
“He thinks he’s fine. Just excited about the change in weather, perhaps. He said dragonfoxes are nearly as in tune with temperature changes as gargoyles.”
“Really?” Rom is smiling. “We are kindred spirits then, Spark and me.”
We walk down five stone steps, and then we push through a dark wooden door. A kitchen and sitting area fill a semi-circular area beyond the entrance.
“Welcome,” he says, his voice shy.
Rom’s place isn’t large, and it’s a bit dark, but there is a nice-sized countertop, a wood stove, and a good hearth with space for baking on one side.
“It’s lovely,” I say. “Thank you for having me.”
Large pillar candles flicker from tables and the countertop. The lovely scent of beeswax fills the air. One well-worn chair dominates the small seating area beside the kitchen. There is nothing on the walls besides some pots and pans on hooks and an apron with dainty white frills around the neck and waist.
I bite my lip to keep from giggling.
Rom makes a low humming sound like he’s thinking. “What is it?”
“Your place is very nice.”
He raises one black eyebrow and crosses his arms over his broad chest. “And you’re laughing at it?”
“The apron.” I try not to laugh more. “I just cannot imagine you in an apron. Let alone that apron.”
“Allow me to satisfy your imagination.”
My throat goes tight even though he didn’t mean anything remotely sexual, I’m sure.
He removes his cloak, and his massive wings unfurl with a low, snapping sound. I pull in a breath. They’re just so glorious. The gold loop at the top of his pointed ear catches the candlelight. Why is that earring so incredibly sexy? He slips the apron on over his horns and eyes me while he ties it at the back. He holds his hands out wide.
“What do you think?”
I can’t help but snort an unladylike giggle. “Perfect.”
Once I have my apron on, I get out everything from my bag and set them next to the recipe note I originally sent to him. Baskets of flour,carrots, wrapped beef, and more sit at the end near a large crockery pitcher.
