Page 25 of Changeling
“Mm-hmm. So you’ve got dibs on his meat, have you?”
“Of course not. Don’t be absurd.”
Leonas shrugs, stands, and retrieves his mug. “I’m never absurd. I’m perfectly serious. He seems like your type. You should get to know him while he’s here.”
“Faeries are not my type.”
“He was raised human and knows little else. Give him a chance. He’d like to learn some Hungarian words. You could start there.”
“I’ll not be starting at all.” I rise to my feet. “Though perhaps we should curtail his city explorations for now. It’s not safe with unknown witches roaming our streets.”
“Agreed.”
“Would you let him know, please?”
Leonas narrows his gaze and glowers. “I most certainly won’t. I’ve been awake almost forty-eight hours, and this cup of milk has put me half to sleep already. I need my beauty rest. You tell him.”
Why don’t any of my staff do as I say?
I sigh. My stomach ties in knots. Sebastian isn’t going to like this news, and he’ll like it even less coming from me. But I don’t want him in danger on my watch. “Fine.”
* * *
No sooner haveI emerged from my office than Rizpah hands over a covered tray of food. “For Sebastian,” she says as if we aren’t four doors away and she couldn’t deliver it herself. I only pretend to be annoyed. I appreciate the opportunity to have something other than bad news to deliver.
When the tray is in my hands, leaving hers free, she reaches up and sweeps my hair forward over my shoulders, nods approvingly, and tells me to be on my way before it gets cold.
Sebastian’s door is closed. I hear no movement from inside. Knocking gently, I listen for signs of occupancy. I hope he’s not already wandering around Pest for the evening.
When light footsteps pad to the door, I release the breath I’m holding, and relief sweeps through me. Good. I’ve made it here in time to warn him.
The door opens. Before me stands a sleepy-eyed, bed-headed, sweet-smelling Sebastian, who smiles warmly at me before his brain has a chance to catch up with his mouth. The smile melts to a more neutral expression, but his gaze lingers on my bare chest.
“To what do I owe this visit?” He eyes the covered tray balanced on my arm. “Has Rizpah made a hat to go with the scarf?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s only your dinner, but I didn’t ask.”
He steps out of the way so I can enter.
I follow him in.
At first glance, his room looks like cannon fire hit, with objects strewn everywhere, but upon closer inspection, I see there’s an order to the madness. The bed has been pushed against the wall. The blankets, pillows, and bedding are arranged in a circular burrow. His possessions, few as they are, are all unpacked and out in places where he can admire them from the bed—on the dresser, the chest, the night table, even the floor. His sugary scent permeates the air, like candy on my tongue as I open my mouth.
“Where would you like this?”
Sebastian hurriedly clears a spot on the table and gestures. “Thank you.”
I set down the tray. “I came to speak with you.”
Curiosity dances in his hazel eyes, but caution wipes it away. “Would you like to sit?”
“No, I won’t be long.” Am I wrong, or does he look disappointed? “It’s about your nightly wanderings. I need you to stay in for a bit.”
He furrows his brows, skepticism obvious on his expressive face. “Why?”
“It’s for your safety.” How much should I explain? I doubt he’ll be happy with anything less than the entire story. “Leonas has spotted several rogue witches in Pest, and until we know their intentions, I can’t be sure they don’t mean us harm.”
“Witches.” He plops down onto his nest of a bed, shoulders caving. “So witches are real too? And they’re bad?”
