Page 36 of I Ran Away to Evil 2
“I don’t think King Keith sees you as a pet,” she remarked. “I think he admires you. And what about Chloe? Is she also a pet?”
Chloe was … an enigma. Someone Feliwyn had brought home one day who was smarter than she ought to be and overpowered from the start. The fact that she had no ambition at all had let her join in the political mess of the Dark Enchanted Forest with minimal trouble.
“Chloe is more like … a sister?” Closer than his own blood sister.
“Then why can’t you be a sworn brother?” Bronwynn crossed her arms. “Do you think that if Knolith beats you and takes your job, you won’t be welcome back?”
CHAPTER 18
Very Cute
Brownie
Brownie kicked herself for her insensitive questions, but Rufus just seemed soemptywhen he spoke about his circumstances. It was a far cry from his animated explanation recounting his community engagement plan for promoting a healthy, happy Dark Horde.
“My rooms in the Black Fortress,” Rufus said quietly, “are reserved for the commander general.”
The implications of his response were matter of fact.
“And the dungeon?”
He hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe you should ask King Keith when you get back?” Brownie took another sip of her water. “If I lived in a trial-by-combat meritocracy, I’d have a backup plan. Maybe buy a house?”
Rufus stared at her for a long moment, making Brownie feel awkward. She stumbled over a quick placating, “Or not! What do I know? I’m just a nobody bard wandering through.”
“You arenota nobody,” Rufus countered firmly. “You’retheMinstrel Bronwynn Lyriel.”
Again, heat burned her cheeks, and Brownie found herself caught by his intense golden eyes. She straightened. “You’re right. I am fabulous. But I still went too far. I’m sorry.”
“They were words I needed to hear, so thank you.” Rufus smiled and Brownie smiled, and then their food arrived.
Silence settled comfortably as they ate, both enjoying their meal. As promised, a live performance started about halfway through dinner. An elderly naga played a zither and sang soft lounge music, his voice soothing. Brownie foundherself closing her eyes and truly relaxing for the first time since General Knolith had burst out of that waterfall.
“I hope you enjoyed the meal,” Mrs. Ellie came by at the end. She eyed Rufus, taking on the tone of a shameless aunt. “And do send my love to Chloe and Keith. No one visits anymore, and I didn’t getnearlyenough time with any of you at the wedding.”
Brownie didn’t recall seeing the woman at the wedding, but she’d been focused on performing, and there had beena lotof magical guests.
“I will, Mrs. Ellie,” Rufus assured the preela. He paid for both meals at the front desk; Mrs. Ellie raised an eyebrow atthat, but only shot them a knowing smile.
“You two have a good night.” She waved. “I’ll come visit when Feliwyn wakes up. It won’t be long now. Lovely to officially meet you, Minstrel Bronwynn.”
“Likewise,” Brownie replied as Rufus offered her his arm. She happily took it, and they wandered into the marketplace. The sun had set long ago, and lanterns illuminated the night market. It was bustling, and if anything, it wasbusierthan during the day. Especially with the arachne.
“I am so happy I’m not afraid of spiders,” Brownie stated, watching the street full of half-spider, half-human monsters. They bartered and traded just like anyone else. Laughed the same, too.
Honestly, classifying any race that spawned in dungeons as “monsters” was not very nice. Dungeon madness only affectedspawnedmonsters, and all of the regular people Brownie had met in the real world were perfectly lovely.
Or they were criminals. Or they were both.
Her familywasvery eclectic, so who was she to talk?
“Have you met many arachne?” Rufus asked. They were walking with the flow of foot traffic, and stopped to peek at stalls as they went.
“My uncle married one four years ago,” she told him. That particular older aunt-in-law lived in Peldeep. Brownie’s family had welcomed the tall and powerful spider woman into their fold with open arms. Aunt Larraina Stannard had even given up some of her silk to Brownie on St. Veralyn’s Day. She’d surprised the bard with a thin silk strap for her instrument that could survive almost anything.
Danielle sported that very strap now.
