Page 32 of Changeling
Dominus gets out of the bed. Just when I’m sure he’s going to leave me alone, he strolls to the table and sits on a wooden chair I would have sworn was too small for his mighty frame.
Grinning, I leap from the bed and join him.
He’s laughing again, only this time the friendly rumble doesn’t bother me.
“What?” I ask.
“Your hair.”
I cringe and run my fingers through the wild, tangled mess of waves. It’s pretty bad; I must look ridiculous. Great. I continue to make a horrible impression.
“It’s cute.” He glances away, back toward the food.
Heat rises from my throat to my cheeks.
He uncovers the dish as I sit across from him. A savory aroma hits my nose, and my stomach grumbles on cue.
Rizpah is a genius cook, and I’m delighted to sample whatever this is. I don’t recognize the dish. A dark meat in a brown gravy with onions and stewed tomatoes. It could be aardvark for all I care. I dig in.
We eat in silence. I don’t know what to say to Dominus after what we’ve just shared, and either he feels the same, or perhaps he’s as hungry as I am. This is our second meal together. Far less strained than the first, though not exactly relaxed either.
I struggle not to watch him eat like a creeper. His mouth is so finely shaped, with plump, berry-colored lips.
He watches me too, his expression unreadable but not unpleasant. I can’t believe he stayed.
As the food disappears, I dread the hours of tedium to come, alone in this room.
“Dominus?”
“Yes?”
“Would I be safe in town if I had an escort?”
“Perhaps. Depends on the escort. Leonas is sleeping.”
“Not Leonas. You.”
He blinks. “I can’t leave. The Twig opens in a few hours, maybe less now as I seem to have been waylaid in your room for quite some time.”
If he’s trying to make me blush again, it’s working. “Why can’t you leave? Can’t the others get by without you for one night?”
I’m pushing my luck. I know it. It’s written on his face, but in for a penny. “Take me out. Please? Fishing?”
Cocking his head, Dominus narrows his gaze. “You want me to take you fishing.”
It’s not a question, so I don’t answer. He’s waffling, though. A hint of curiosity glimmers in his eyes.
“The Danube has freshwater fish I’ve never tried before. We could bring our haul back for Rizpah to work her magic.”
I’m winning him over, though I’m not sure how I know. He holds his face still. He hasn’t said no, which is practically a yes.
I hurry to persuade him. “We can rent equipment at the docks, then walk north of the city to where the riverbank is unencumbered. Last I visited, I had the entire shore to myself but no fishing rod.”
“Fishing?”
I nod.
He sighs. “All right.”
