Page 35 of Beneath the Cursed Veil

“Fine. You tripped me out the window. Better?”

“All-mighty powerful god, to cat, to alleged assassin. I'm moving up in the world, baby,” Corvo called over his shoulder as he trotted out of the room.

Vareck pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. “Sorry about him. He can be a little . . . catty.”

Corvo peered his head back inside, glaring up at him with his ears perked up. “I heard that, and you should be ashamed.”

“Corvo.”

“Right, right; the food. Don't talk about me while I'm gone.”

Vareck slowly turned his attention back to me. The silence was awkward. Everything was awkward. Memoriesfrom my dreams flashed in my mind, except now instead of the blurred or faceless man I could never remember, it was King Vareck staring at me while he touched my body. I shivered just thinking about how good his hands felt.

He cleared his throat, breaking me away from my thoughts. “You’re . . . uh . . . cold. I can put more logs on the fire.”

“Wait. You didn’t answer before,” I began, and he nodded, sitting back down. “But why did you bring me here? To your room. You could have brought me to the dungeons and asked me the same questions.” I pressed, scooting forward on the bed and swinging my legs over the side.

For a moment, Vareck just stared at me, lips parted like he wanted to speak but couldn’t. I took the opportunity to ask what was really on my mind.

“Does it have anything to do with . . . the dreams?” My voice was little more than a whisper by the end.

“If I say yes, are you going to freak out?”

“I—”

The door creaked and swung open, with Corvo leading the way, his fluffy tail pointed up, high and mighty. He jumped on the bed, sitting with his chest puffed out and proud.

A servant followed, pushing in a silver cart draped in a white cloth. Two trays sat on top, each with a large dome protecting the contents beneath it. Two goblets and a pitcher of what I assumed was fae wine were sent up for drinks. A pot of tea steamed next to a single teacup. For the final touch, a small vase with a glass lily decorated the corner. He positioned it on the table next to Vareck.

The kitchen courier left with the king’s thanks, and we were soon alone again, except now we had the company ofthe cat, and I didn’t feel comfortable returning to my previous inquiry.

Not that I had time to dwell on what to talk about. When Vareck took the lid off each dish, my mouth instantly watered. A hearty looking stew steamed, the scent of root vegetables and herbs filling my senses and increasing my hunger tenfold. The second plate had fresh bread, some cheese, and slices of yellow winter apples. My stomach rumbled again; angrily telling me to hurry the hell up and feed myself.

“Your lunch,” Corvo said, pawing at my leg. I leaned away, still slightly scared of the talking cat. His ears twitched, my best guess is that it was a sign of annoyance. “What? I brought the peon who brought you food. That was nice of me.”

“It was. But as you recall, you also tripped me, andI fell out the window,” I reminded him. “Forgive me if I don’t trust you.”

He rolled his golden eyes. “I said ‘oops,’ didn’t I?”

“I don’t know, did you? I was too busy tumbling across a rooftop and falling into a snowbank.”

“But did you die?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Are you sure? Seems like a good point to me.” Corvo licked his paw, and Vareck shot him a look.

“He’s harmless, really. Just an asshole,” he said, running his hand behind his neck and digging his fingers into the muscle. He gestured to the food. “You should eat before it gets cold.”

“He is right about that. Everything gets cold in this hellhole,” Corvo muttered, leaving his spot and curling up a chair in the reading nook.

“You trust him?” I asked, sliding off the edge of the bedand sitting in an empty chair across from the table. The stew tasted as good as it smelled. Maybe better.

“He’s my familiar,” Vareck confessed, though he seemed reluctant at the admission. “Do you have one?”

“A cat?”

“A familiar.”

---