Page 46 of I Ran Away to Evil 2
The minstrel continued, “Which is why some calming tea will do us all some good. What are those?” She pointed to a few pastries stacked on a tray next to the teapot.
“Huckleberry tarts and some garlic scones.” The attendant smiled. “Please enjoy, and when you are ready, I can show you to your room!”
There was a second while the words registered. I was the first to speak. “We will be needing two rooms.”
“We aren’t …” Bronwynn began, then changed it to, “We simply traveled here together. But we aren’ttogethertogether.”
The attendant looked between us and then met my eyes, her expression pained. “But you only broughtoneinvitation.”
At that, Bronwynn balanced the scone plate she’d just received on her knee, reached out, and picked up her instrument case. She unlatched the opening, pulling out her contract. She explained, “I’m the bard for Duke Wyldon’s party.”
“The entertainment?” The woman stared at Bronwynn like she’d suddenly grown two heads, then she looked between the bard and the tea trolley like she couldn’t believe she was serving a fellow staff member, and a lowly bard at that.
“Pardon our early arrival,” I said, and the attendant’s polite-but-dead-inside eyes met mine. “Minstrel Bronwynn is my queen’s greatest companion, so I,the Commander General of the Dark Lord’s army, was asked to escort her here safely.”
That had the woman stiffen and straighten to attention. Her professional smile returned, and she managed to gather her thoughts. “I will go prepare a second room, then. If you’ll excuse me.”
There was a heartbeat where we were left alone before Bronwynn burst into unrestrained laughter.
“I can’t believe you just said that!” Bronwynn exclaimed, leaning back into her chair.
“What?” I feigned ignorance and picked up my own scone, buttery with a rich garlic that smelled overly strong.
I was greeted with a very warm smile. “Seriously, though, thank you.”
“Anytime.” I tried to hide the conviction in my voice and play it off as casual camaraderie. I’d even say I succeeded.
CHAPTER 24
My Horse Picked That Lock?
Brownie
Donna wasnothappy, and Brownie could tell.
One minute, the bard was relaxing in companionable scone-chewing silence with Rufus, and the next, she was getting averyaffronted message from her horse.
The level one bond wasn’t strong enough to actually send verbal messages, but it was strong enough to let Brownie know that if she didn’t get to the stablesnow, then someone might lose a finger—or worse.
“I have to go.” Brownie jumped up from her plush chair. It was only thanks to her Dexterity eighteen that she placed the tea on the tea trolley without spilling.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Rufus was on his feet almost faster than she was; level difference made a difference. He also expertly divested his snacks.
There was a brief moment where she was tempted to jump out the window to save time … but the windows were glass and latched.
“I have to check on Donna!” she said, already running out the door with Rufus hot on her heels.
The room they were waiting in was literally just inside the doors to the castle, and the stables were outside. The second they exited the main door, theyheardthe problem.
“Blasted horse!” A young man, pale and human, was trying to put a muzzle on her mare. He wore the duke’s livery, as well as boots and gloves that marked him as a stable hand.
Donna was havingnone of that nonsense. She reared up, kicking out at the man. One hoof clipped his shoulder, and he cursed again. Donna wrenched her face out of the offending accessory, and the muzzle was sent flying.
“Excuse me.” Brownie’s voice was stern and loud, startling the young man into distraction.
She flinched as Donna whipped her head around to bite flesh. Instead of the expected agonizing scream, Rufus was suddenly standing there, catching the mare’s chin and petting her nose. He pulled out a sugar cube he must have swiped from the tea trolley earlier and offered the treat to the horse.
“Shh, beautiful. Bronwynn and I are here,” he spoke softly to the mare. Brownie was surprised Donna let him. “You weremagnificent. And we are unworthy.”
