Page 138 of The Discount Damsel

“Jubilations,” the baby dragon cried again and immediately barged into the first of the many rooms.

CHAPTER 56

THE FELLOWSHIP BREAKS, A LITTLE TEST, AND BRADLEY CALLS IN A FAVOR

The Fellowship of the Tianzi Toad Treasure Hunt quickly broke apart. Not that the hearts of the companions failed, but life, as it had a way of doing, got in the way.

A few days after the Fellowship had formed, a horde of Heroes had arrived to challenge the dragon for his princess, which, of course, Dirk had to address.

And Millie, being a woman with her own dreams to pursue, could no longer abandon her training. Especially after discovering her hands had miraculously healed, without any web of scar tissue, that very same afternoon that the hunt had begun.

She was no fool—this had something to do with Bradley. But what could she tell him? That an errant piece of his wild magic had leaked into her? Was that even possible? She’d rather have a theory to present to him than wild speculation, which meant she needed a look at those books in the workroom. Perhaps there was something about wild magic and why Dirk was shedding his scales.

In the meantime, she stole two glorious days and nights of Searching for Buried Treasure: Magical Artifacts Edition where she had laughed and listened to the sorcerer apprentice slowly open up about his time at the College and regale her with fish tales from the Cut, including how Bradley had learned sign language. As it happened, the aggressive sea monsters that inhabited the treacherous inland sea had incredible hearing, so communication amongst the fishermen was reduced to gestures for their own survival.

In the evenings, the two of them could be found on one of the balconies, huddled under separate blankets against the desert chill yet shoulder to shoulder as they leaned out over the railing and searched the night sky for falling stars. When sleep finally called, they were reluctant to part simply because they didn’t wish the fun, and the simple pleasure of each other’s company, to end.

It was also two glorious yet anxiety-riddled days and nights where every accidental touch sent shivers deep into Millie’s belly and stoked the coals of wanting. Being Bradley’s friend was wonderful, but it didn’t fulfill her as she had hoped. Instead, she’d found herself impatiently waiting—itching—for him to pull her into his embrace or knock on—or knock down—her bedroom door.

Piss and plagues, was she smitten?

Millie hoped not. She was going to be a pirate! That said . . . what pirate pined instead of took what she wanted? Booty was booty, after all.

Without preamble, she should just tell Bradley all the filthy (but respectful) things she wanted to do to him, or him to her, and quit mewling like a stupid cow at a fence panel when the pasture gate was open right next to her.

Except she knew that wasn’t the pirate she wanted to be. She was going to be the One in Ten lady pirate captain with the beautiful clothes, who could throw daggers into people’s eyes, and who made love with a man completely besotted with her instead of scratching a primal itch. Because why couldn’t she have it all? She was worth all that and nothing less.

Maybe love wasn’t a cage at all. Maybe the right love was a harbor that protected and reassured and supported. Open to the sea, it understood its ships would go on grand adventures and never tried to contain them.

Could any man love her like that? Whole-heartedly with no constraints on her goals and dreams?

Such a love would require a great deal of trust. Millie wanted, needed, to know if the new Bradley—the smiling, thoughtful, gallant, engaging storyteller she had come to know—felt even remotely similar before she took the plunge. Call it girlish insecurity, call it wavering self-confidence, call it whatever you like. Millie needed a sign. And she knew just how to get it.

Bradley scowled as the toad gulped down the singing pocket watch with barely a noticeable change to the gleam in its garnet eyes. He’d suspected all along that the stronger the magical object, the greater the response, but would it kill the amphibian to have a little mercy? The days were slipping by, and either the luck dragon’s nose had lost its ability or this treasure hunt was a red herring, given how little they’d found to feed the toad. The workroom was bare of its mishmash of lesser magical objects, but there were still plenty of rooms to search, each with the potential of yielding The One—that artifact that finally made the toad come alive. Without the princess or Dirk’s aid to find it, time truly might run out.

He’d actually enjoyed the last few days, which was something he’d never thought he’d say about his stay in the tower. The princess’s presence was as helpful as it was distracting. She was insanely good at finding all the hidden places a room had to offer—something she no doubt had learned from her formative days of picking locks and snooping through her etiquette tutors’ belongings without getting caught. She’d found the pocket watch that way.

She strangely put him at ease; perhaps it was the camaraderie of knowing he wasn’t alone that lifted his spirits. He’d risked telling her a story or two or twelve to fill the silence, not that it was uncomfortable, but because every time he spoke about the Cut or the College, worlds she knew next to nothing about, the excitement that transformed her face was like a flame to the tinder of his heart. Through her reaction, he was rediscovering the joy of magic. Of adventure. Of all the possibilities that lay before him. And even better, he had someone to share it with now.

It was infectious, that excitement. And the way it made the princess glow. He began to hope that if his stories could make her glow, then maybe there was something else about him that could make her ignite. His hands, for example. Her fingers had interlaced with his, as much as they could with the bandages, that afternoon in the stairwell. And if she didn’t shy away from his hands, maybe she wouldn’t shy away from the touch of his lips. He’d tried to be the perfect gentleman, the platonic friend, but he was finding her increasing irresistible.

But then she’d returned to her training, untouched, a match unstruck.

His scowl deepening, the apprentice stomped down to the kitchen to brew another pot of tisane. He’d have to continue his treasure hunt through the nights. Better that than returning to his bed flustered from a fruitless day with thoughts of the princess and coffee-soaked teacakes pervading his mind.

Perhaps he could enlist the Heroes again. All six of them—minus Dirk, who they would definitely notice in his Mini Red form—could clear a room faster than he alone. It was risky, especially with that Sir Beauregard. The handsome knight had grown bold again, quietly unsettling the others and making eyes at the princess again. Bradley could just pull Jax and Duncan instead of all the Heroes, as they still had the proper amount of insecurity that Dirk might eat them, but that favoritism could strain the fragile peace even more. Perhaps he’d just have Sir Roger help him—the hedge knight had proven himself trustworthy and a fine ally. But without the warden to keep Sir Beauregard in check . . .

Bradley halted on the stairs as laugher spiraled softly up the stairwell. He squinted through the glow of the crystals, as if that somehow served to sharpen his hearing.

That was the princess laughing . . . but the male voice accompanying her mirth was not Dirk’s. Bradley knew him to be in his room, napping to replenish his strength for the night’s flight to Calumbria to deposit the Hero he’d defeated half an hour ago.

The apprentice quickened his steps.

The laughter guided him to the princess’s room, whose door was open, and Bradley caught his breath as he peeked inside.

She was there, just as expected. But not as expected was her position. The princess, fully clothed, lay on her stomach upon her bed, hands behind her back and trussed up like a feast day goose. On the side of the bed closest to the squirming princess’s feet was Sir Beauregard. His brown eyes gleamed as he stared at that wiggling backside, though his gaze could’ve just as well been on the knotted mess of rope that bound the princesses hands at the small of her back.

“You’ve really got me now,” she groused, her complaint light-hearted. “Ugh, why did you tie it so tight?”