Page 28 of Bound to the Fae Assassin

“Sweep it all in one direction,” she said. “Toward the back door, and then out into the alleyway behind the bakery.”

“Understood,” he said, inwardly bemoaning his fate. Why couldn’t they be doing something else in that alleyway?

But when she nodded and went back to her work, he dutifully returned his attention to the broom.

Sweeping her way was definitely more fun, and it was satisfying to see the flour and dust on the floor collecting in a larger and larger pile.

Soon, he forgot his determination to impress the baker’s daughter and lost himself to the rhythm of the broom and the scent of baking bread.

Chapter 14

Farrow

Farrow looked around the bakery and realized that after only two hours, things were really up and running again.

Her parents had loaded Jericho onto the milkman’s carriage and rode with him to his home to get him settled. She expected they would be back in time to help her close up.

The way they encouraged her to stay with Blackthorn had her fretting that they really were hoping for some kind of match.

Of course, they had no way of knowing that the man wasn’t really a generous stranger from Green Fields, with an inexplicable interest in baking. But if they were going to keep this up, she wasn’t sure how long she would last.

For his part, Blackthorn himself wasn’t helping her much. But he was staying out of trouble, mostly.

To her intense relief, he had not tried to interact with any of the customers who had come in during their lunch hour. He had only interrupted her work once to ask permission to see to his horse.

She was glad she had gone to the window after granting him leave, or she would not have seen him look around and then whisper to the horse.

Echo sank downward immediately. At first, she thought he was kneeling. Then she saw he was actually getting smaller and smaller, finally transforming into a midnight-black cat. The outline of his true form was almost invisible now. She wondered if it had anything to do with how long he’d been on this side of the wall.

When Blackthorn headed back into the bakery, she quickly busied herself with a tray of biscuits.

A moment later, the cat sauntered in, and got right to work sniffing for mice.

Unfortunately, when he was finished hunting, the little cat decided to help his master by batting at the broom while he swept.

Farrow had tried to hide her smiles, and kept her eyes on her work. Something about Blackthorn’s affection for his animal companion warmed her. Maybe there was more to him than he let on.

The cat brought her thoughts back to the present by curling around her ankles, unsubtly angling for a snack.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

He blinked up at her with bright, yellow eyes.

She poured out a dish of buttermilk and placed it on the floor.

“Here you are, Echo,” she told him.

Echo banged his head against her ankle in thanks and then applied himself to his lunch.

“You recognize him?” Blackthorn asked.

“We’re nearly out of good sugar,” she said, still looking down at the cat and pointedly not answering. “I’m going to fetch some from the market.”

“May I join you?” Blackthorn asked politely.

She probably ought to make him stay and keep an eye on the bakery. But there were few customers so late in the day, and the idea of leaving him on his own seemed ill-advised, at best. He was sure to cause more trouble with customers than the CLOSED sign would.

She nodded to him and took off her apron, hanging it on a hook on the wall. When she went to the wash tub to clean her hands, Blackthorn followed.

---