Page 26 of The Elven Spymaster's Thief

She swayed slightly after I moved away, but she didn’t fall. “If I am dependent, I am dead.”

“You are no longer in a warlord’s service,” I pointed out.

Ergon placed the last platter on the table as Avril reached her chair. He offered me and then her a shallow bow before leaving, closing the door behind him.

As she seated herself, I claimed her plate. “Any objections to any of the selections?” I asked.

She scanned the offerings and then shook her head.

“Good.” I filled her plate with a portion of everything. After setting it before her, I turned my attention to my own plate. “Now eat it all, healer’s orders.”

“You mean your orders,” she responded.

“No, I mean healer’s orders. He ordered this exact menu for both of us and prescribed portions.” I motioned to my very full plate. “See. I am eating the same.”

She grimaced but picked up her silverware.

I bent my attention to my food. True to the healer’s predictions and my own experience, I was ravenously hungry. A quick glance at my dinner companion, and I was pleased to discover she appeared to be equally eager for food.

∞∞∞

Chapter Seven

Avril

Iate with enthusiasm. As much as I knew Whispier and the healer were correct that I needed rest and hearty food to recover from blood loss, it didn’t mean his resilience was any less annoying. As I finished the last of the bean salad on my plate, I eyed the basket of rolls sitting between us.

“Don’t.”

I lifted my chin with a carefully formed innocent expression only to find he wasn’t even bothering to look. “Don’t what?” He was far too staid for his own good. Cautious, over-confident, and handsome—I never knew that it could be a romantically appealing combination.

He studiously cut his chicken. “Don’t throw a roll at me.”

“I was only thinking,” I protested.

“And staring at the rolls.”

I huffed. “Just because you know about everyone’s actions and whispered secrets doesn’t mean you can read my mind.” I jabbed a bite of cheese with my fork and popped it into my mouth.

He set his silverware on his plate with careful precision. Wiping his mouth with his linen napkin, Whispier met my gaze across the table. “Would you care to test that theory?”

The darkening of his green eyes boded ill for me. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or something else. Warm anticipation threaded through me. “No.”

“If I can make you think about what I want you to, you will retire to your bed and sleep the rest of the day.” One of his elegant dark eyebrows rose challengingly.

“And if I don’t think of what you wish?” I frowned at him. “What will I get should I win?”

“A boon.”

“Any boon?”

He nodded very slowly. “Any boon short of dissolving our binding, harming anyone, or killing anyone. And it can’t go against my conscience.”

“I didn’t know you had one.” The words flew from my lips before I considered their truth.

He flinched.

I immediately wished the words back. “No, that isn’t what I meant. I am sorry. Please forget you ever heard that. I—”

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