Page 24 of Until the End of Ever
Poor Castor remained planted on the spot for at least a minute before gathering what he could retrieve of his dignity and lifting his chin. “Your mother will hear about this!”
She would. And frankly, I was going to get an earful no matter what.
“Bye, Cousin Castor!” I said, before waving at the staff, all desperately attempting to appear busy rather than spying on us.
Even the trumpet torture had stopped.
“Would you mind bringing us menus after all? I’m famished.”
That was too much for Lucian. He folded in two, laughing so hard he had to hold his sides. By the time Annette was back with two menus, there were tears in both our eyes.
“Anything edible here?” Lucian asked. “And a bag of gold if someone can hide the trumpet. And you,” he added, gray eyes focusing on me, “have a story to finish, about a Gwythyr, a Gwyn, and King Arthur.”
9
LUCIAN
Who would have thought it was possible to enjoy an evening at the Velvet Lounge?
My steak was overdone, and Kleos’s ossobuco looked particularly sad, but the company was excellent, and after the staff managed to confiscate the trumpet, the music playing over the speakers was fine too.
Still, I doubted either of us regretted leaving the establishment behind.
“If you’d like the cab to drop you at home, you’ll have to tell him the address,” I said, opening the door to let her in first.
I tried. I really attempted to leave it at that. But by the time I was pulling the door behind me, I’d added, “Or you could come back to the manor with me. I mean, you’ll come tomorrow in any case. As you should be accompanied, it might be more convenient.” I was undeniably rambling. My mouth refused to shut up. “I can’t believe you didn’t bring your friend as backup tonight, by the by. Someone’s trying to hurt you. You shouldn’t go anywhere alone.”
Kleos blinked, taken aback. “Oh. I don’t think we considered it—I mean, it was onlyCastor.”
After meeting the man, I certain could understand how both she and Gideon had been so unimpressed. “Yeah, well, someone could have followed you, or used Castor to lure you out.”
The cabbie lowered the partition between us and cleared his throat, “Apologies, sir. Where to?”
That was the question. I turned to Kleos, one eyebrow raised.
“The Hall of Truce, please,” she replied.
I tried not to smile.
Turning to me, she added, “My address is The Valesco House, by the way. In case you need it. Everyone knows where it is, but you can add Garden Terrace, if someone needs clarification.”
I would have teased her, except my address was The Royal Manor. No one bothered to even specify the avenue.
We’d almost reached the Hall when I deigned to recall that I was supposed to try to keep my distance from her. That plan was going swimmingly.
For today’s infraction, I blamed Silver and Gideon, who hadn’t thought to organize an appropriate guard fortheirfriend.
Except it felt wrong to call her theirs. She was mine to take care of.
Mine, mine, mine?—
By the armpit of the smelliest hellhounds, get hold of yourself, Lucian.
The column working as a traveling shaft between the vale and underside was right at the entrance of the Hall. We’d returned to my side of town in moments.
“No princess carriage this time?” she asked as I guided us to the dark horses.
A sudden flash of the night when I’d taken her home in my mother’s carriage—and everything that happened after, down in the dungeon—made the fit of my bespoke trousers quite uncomfortable.
