Page 86 of Werewolves Don't Howl
“The whole Night Lord package. So you’re telling me that they’ve taken over your house. They’ll never leave until we’ve given my mother grandchildren. It’s all a trap. We’ll have to sneak out the back in the middle of the night.”
He smiled slightly. “I am very good at sneaking around in the middle of the night.”
I brightened up. “Me too! They’ll never see us leaving.”
Sharp rapping on the door had me jumping, clinging to Cross while the scent of his spicy skin rolled through me in a wave.
“Delphinia, are you awake? I have another tray for you, as well as the kitten. Can I come in?”
I pulled away from Cross. “I’m not dressed,” I said and then blushed. “I mean, I’m just in a night shirt.”
She came in, like that had been an invitation. She beamed at us and then placed the tray on my lap. The kitten leapt from her shoulder to my chest, snuggling in while purring loudly.
I cuddled Lynx while I beamed at Cross. He’d kept her safe even while I was out.
My mother shook her finger at me. “Eat. Snuggle the kitten later. As for you, Mr. Night Lord, you can go,” she pointedly told him.
He bowed and then gave me one last, intent look before he left.
She stood over me, plump arms folded, watching me while I slowly ate the repeated breakfast down to the cinnamon rolls and liver stew.
“He’s so handsome,” she said.
“Mm,” I replied, biting into a cinnamon roll. They were so perfect. Maybe she could come and be the House of Mercy’s housekeeper.
“Are you sure you want to break a perfectly good binding?” Of course she’d have to bring that up.
“I’m not okay with forcing someone to love me.”
She hmphed. “Nonsense. Love is a choice. These bindings don’t have anything to do with the way you look at him, like he’s even more delicious than a cinnamon roll.” She grabbed one from my tray and took a bite. She nodded in satisfaction as she chewed. “He did well.”
“He? You mean you let Manny cook?”
She sniffed. “Of course I let him cook. He’s the cook, isn’t he? You don’t think that I’d take over someone else’s business, do you? Hmph.”
I smiled behind my cinnamon roll while my heart warmed. Manny must have put up quite a fight to maintain a toehold in the kitchen. And she’d let him win.
A sharp trumpet pierced the air.
“Was that a trumpet? I suppose this is Singsong City,” my mom said, looking towards the balcony.
“Even in Singsong, we don’t have trumpets and…are those flags?” I pushed back my tray and went out on the deck, snuggling Lynx against my chest.
On the street past the gates, flags in misty purple and coppery orange paraded by. I leaned on the railing to get a better look. Were those horses? It was a large group filled with magic users crowding the street like they owned it, and no cars argued. That meant very obvious magic. They stopped at the gates beyond the courtyard, and a gorgeous white horse with a rider in pale glistening violet reared a few times, magic building with every lunge to the earth. What were they doing? Was this religious? Was it an attack against Cross? Maybe it had to do with his magic show the other night.
Cross walked briskly across the front courtyard, around the enormous fountain, and then with a gesture, the gates flew open and the parade came in.
The violet woman entered on her prancing steed, rode her horse in a circle around Cross, then slid off in front of him. Then she very obviously turned her back to him, looked up at me, and smiled. When she spoke, I could hear her as well as if she was sitting beside me. “You are Angustia Erasmus’s daughter? House Laster gives you greetings.” She curtsied while lowering her head regally.
Oh. She was bowing to me? Wait, House Laster? Wasn’t that the house my dad said that Cross was from?
Cross looked at me over his shoulder, giving me a small shake of his head. No, it wasn’t his house? No, this wasn’t his mother? Or no, I shouldn’t be snuggling a kitten in his shirt when some glorious royalty comes to visit?
I returned her curtsy, bowing until my face almost hit the railing, then I hurried back inside.
“I don’t have anything to wear,” I said, throwing open his large closet. I froze. Countless women’s dresses and suits hung on the opposite side from Cross’s.
“Is it better to keep her waiting and have the appropriate grooming, or is it better to rush down there looking like a cuckoo made a nest in your hair?” my mother asked with an innocent smile.
