Page 21 of By Mistake
The last time he'd been in this room, if it was indeed the part of the house he thought, it had been to roll up the little rug by the bed at his mother's behest so she could sell it for enough pence to buy them bread and turnips for dinner.Back in the house's heyday, this had been a guest room, at least according to his mother.Those days had been very long gone by the time Andrus was born.
Shaking his head, he headed for the door—and stopped again as he caught his reflection in a beautiful standing mirror that would have kept him in food formonths.What sort of stupid extravagance—
He was wearing a silk dressing robe.Speaking ofstupid frivolous expenses.Whatever was going on, whoever was behind this, he was going to clobber them upside the head before making them take all of this back.
His breath caught.Oresti?But after all he'd said, the way he'd thrown Oresti out, there was no way he'd come back, let alone return and fix up the house while Andrus was asleep.
Even if he had, though…
Time.There was no way Andrus had been asleep so long that Oresti had possessed enough time to completely renovate a house.In fact, the more he thought about it, the less sense everything made.What was he missing?
His temple throbbed sharply, and he grunted in pain as he headed for the wardrobe, because what else was he supposed to do?
Sure enough, the wardrobe was filled with beautiful clothes, costly and well made, the kinds of clothes he'd seen on numerous nobles and other well-to-do types but had never dreamed of wearing himself.The expense made him nauseous.Who was spending what money so flagrantly?There were smarter, vastly more important purchases to be made.
Well, one problem at a time.He couldn't reprimand anyone until he knewwho.Dressed, painfully aware of how nicely they fit, how soft and comfortable the clothes were compared to the crude homemade stuff he normally wore, Andrus headed out.
The entire house was as beautiful as the room he'd woken in, as though it had never fallen into disuse, as though the entire contents had never had to be sold off simply to buy food.His mother would have bawled her eyes out to see this.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he grasped the beautiful, highly polished railing that shouldn't be there, taken away years ago by a furniture company that wanted to repurpose it, and headed down marble stairs that had been so thoroughly cleaned they looked brand new, covered with a soft, dark scarlet runner that accented the beautiful walnut-stained walls.
As he reached the bottom, where the entry hall was equally splendid now, including a beautiful chandelier made of glass that cast shards of rainbow all about, he heard voices.One brisk and ringing, clearly used to giving orders and expecting instant obedience.His head throbbed, the stabbing pains sharper than ever.
Leaving the main hall, he followed the distant sound of voices to what had once been a salon.Sometimes his mother had tucked herself away in there to work, though it had been on a rickety little table she'd salvaged from a house whose tenants had been thrown out, most of their belongings abandoned on the side of the road because they hadn't been able to take any of it with them.She hadn't had a chair, only an old footstool that eventually had been sold along with the table for barely enough money to buy stale bread and soft turnips.
Now his house was filled with so much extravagance he was going to throw up.
In the salon, which was as beautifully appointed now as the rest of the house, a combination of old-fashioned touches and contemporary styles that was truly beautiful in a way that would last generations, was a cluster of people all centered around…
Oh, gods.Oh, gods.The pounding headache vanished as the memories came rushing back.He hadn't summoned a brownie.He'd summoned a demon, and not just any demon, one of the most dangerous of all, a demon that other demons tread carefully around: Shimari of the Harvest.
Except, currently Shimari was dressed like a clerk, tidy suit, gleaming spectacles, and all.He looked up and met Andrus's gaze, and his breath caught in his throat to be held by those eyes.Green, a brilliant, beautiful green almost too perfect and beautiful to be real.But he had a memory of red eyes, though maybe that was just a dream.
Before he could figure out what to say, or do, Shimari clapped his hands briefly."Friends, friends, it seems our master has awoken, so if you do not mind, I need a few minutes of privacy to speak with him.Lord Bothwell, good afternoon.I hope you're feeling better."
Andrus pushed further into the room as the gaggle of visitors, a question for later, flowed past him, closing the door behind them.
"What is going on?"Andrus asked quietly, eyes fastened on Shimari as he slunk across the remaining space between them like a cat.A cat."You were a cat," Andrus blurted, the thought spilling out before he could contain it.
Shimari stopped, blinked, then laughed softly, a husky, rolling sound that sent tingles down Andrus's spine because apparently he was even more fantastically stupid than he'd already surmised."One of my alternate shapes.Humans tend to do a lot less screaming when I look harmless, and tiny cats are relatively harmless."
"Not to a mouse," Andrus muttered.
"You're funny," Shimari said with a sly grin."Much like your ancestor.Did you know 'Mouse' was what his lover called him?"
"His lover?You mean—" Andrus broke off, shaking his head."That's not important.What are you doing?What's happened to my house?Why aren't you trying to kill me or something?"
"Sit down before you fall down."Not giving him a chance to reply, Shimari took him by the arm and dragged him over to a beautiful sea-green settee draped with a cream-colored blanket that was the softest thing Andrus had ever touched.He wanted to curl up right there while it was raining, spend the day reading and drinking tea, or dozing lazily.Frivolous and silly, he had no time for such things, but what a lovely daydream.
He sat down, resisting the temptation to drag the lovely blanket around him like he was five, though he felt veryverysmall as he looked up at Shimari not quite looming over him, his green eyes red now."I don't understand you," Andrus whispered."I made so many mistakes.You could kill me and run off to do whatever you wanted."
"Not quite," Shimari replied."You are both the worst and greatest mage I've ever encountered.With proper training, you would likely outdo Sendrus himself, and he was nothing even a demon would scoff at."
Andrus shook his head."I have no idea what you're trying to tell me."
Shimari folded his arms across his chest, pale, pretty mouth curved in a faint smirk."I am saying that you gave me untold freedom, but you were very clear—perfect, in fact—about binding me to your care and protection.I have no choice but to attend your every need and desire."
"What?"Andrus stood up, feeling nauseous all over again."No, I wasn't trying toenslaveyou, that's abhorrent.I don't need anyone catering to myevery desire."His eyes stung."I just wanted a brownie to help me move my few meager possessions, that was all."
