Page 42 of Luca

Cee nodded in understanding, the barest hint of sympathy cracking through her blunt manner at my request. “It will be done, Your Highness.”

I dipped my head in appreciation before scanning the hall, frowning at the absence of one particularly spirited basilisk.

“Where is your companion?” I asked. She seemed to mentally groan at the mere mention of him, which humored me. It was how I imagined Teighan had reacted to my letters regarding Alex’s welfare all those months ago.

“I sensed you waking, so I sent him to fetch Your Highnesses breakfast,” she said, her tone devoid of emotion. “He should return?—”

“Sorry, sorry.” The creature in question rushed through the hallway with steps not entirely befitting a spy. He carried a tray laden with bowls of food, wooden tankards, and a jug filled with water—I knew because it sloshed over the sides with how vigorously he swayed. I was surprised there was any left by the time he reached us at the door. “They were serving slop, which was labeled on the menu as some type of porridge, but I don’t know, I thought it best to give it a wide berth. So you have sweet milk pudding and stewed fruit instead. It’s good. Not too sweet, despite the name. I tried some downstairs.”

He handed over the tray, the implication of his words slowly dawning. “Not from your bowl, obviously!” he clarified. “The kitchen miss gave me a spoonful cos I told her she was pretty, even though she kinda looked like a toad, but I wanted to be nice since she was in charge of cooking your food, and in all honesty, she had one of those long, darty-out tongues, so I wouldn’t have really minded if she?—”

“Gary!” Cee spoke through gritted teeth, interrupting the lad’s verbal waterfall, no doubt clocking my utter bewilderment. He just blinked at her obliviously, one eyelid at a time. “The prince does not wish to hear of your exploits.”

I recovered, smiling politely. “It’s quite alright.”

For a beat, there was an uncomfortable silence, but then Gary shrugged, entirely unperturbed. “Right-o, boss.” He saluted Cee before bowing to me. “Your Highness.”

“I shall take my leave. We should be ready to depart on the hour.” With matching head dips of acknowledgment from them, I returned to the room, setting the tray on the side table before perching on the edge of the bed.

I combed my fingers through Luca’s unruly mane.“Sweetheart… I hate to wake you, but I need you to eat something before we leave.”

He grumbled unintelligibly, and I couldn’t fight my adoring smile.

“I understand, pet, but you did not eat much last night.” I tried to reason with the petulant blanket nest. “I may be at fault for that, so I am trying to take responsibility.”

With a huff, my mate peeked out from under the covers, a scowl worthy of the Haryk name on his face. I granted him a moment to shuffle up the bed and stretch out his arms before setting the tray in his lap. Only once he’d taken his first mouthful did he speak. “This is pretty good.”

“Gary said you would enjoy it.” I poured water from the pitcher into one of the tankards, and handed it over. “We may have to add Royal Taste Tester to his résumé.”

Luca snorted. “I like Gary.” He lifted another spoonful to his mouth, this one noticeably smaller than the last. “Are you not having anything?”

“I am not particularly fond of stewed fruit.” My nose wrinkled. “It’s all mushy.”

“You could scrape it off,” he offered in amusement, but I just shook my head.

“I fear the dish is already contaminated.”

He laughed and continued on with his miniature bites. I watched him carefully, looking for any signs of unease, but he displayed none. Perhaps he wasn’t that fond of the taste, after all. “Would you like me to fetch you something else?”

Luca seemed startled by my request. “No, I like it.”

I nodded, but wasn’t convinced. He managed a quarter of the bowl before setting down his spoon and taking a slow sip of his water. It was clear that he didn’t want any more, but I couldn’t help worrying that he hadn’t consumed anything of substance since our afternoon at the market. Was he getting sick? Or was this a delayed effect of the reaper’s powers? “Are you feeling alright, pet?”

“Yeah,” he said, seemingly earnest in his answer. “It’s just kinda filling, and I don’t want to have to walk all day feeling bloated. That’s really not fun, at all.”

I hummed in understanding although my stomach twisted with uncertainty, and moved the tray back to the side table. “Let me redress your wound, then we can be on the road.”

“Okay.”

It was the work of minutes for me to gather the supplies—a clean bandage, the healing ointment, and a hot cloth—though I took my time tending to him. I was careful when wiping away the specks of blood from the small cut, my chest aching at its harshness. I applied a thin layer of cream before securing the new dressing in place.

“Done.”

Luca smiled at me in thanks, and before I could even stand, he whipped back the covers and sprang to his feet, only to wobble unsteadily and clap a hand to his forehead. Before I could fret, he laughed, the sound a little strained. “’Mokay, just stood up too fast.”

After a brief respite, he vanished into the bathroom and closed the door. I gave him his privacy, of course, but kept my senses on alert should he require assistance. He reappeared minutes later without incident, his hair slightly more orderly and his face red from scrubbing. He wandered over to his backpack to fish out a clean outfit, and my eyes followed his every move. I tried not to make it obvious, busying myself with straightening out the bed covers while he dressed.

He was quiet, which struck me as unusual in itself. Typically, even when he performed mundane tasks, he would mumble to himself or hum a tune under his breath, maybe even ramble to me about his latest interest, but he said nothing. I wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t unnerve me, but I didn’t know what to do other than give him space and hope he would open up if something troubled him.

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