Page 152 of The Discount Damsel

“And I’m gonna go take care of Jax before he wakes up.” Dirk was none too gentle with his magic, choosing to stuff the traitor out a very small window instead of using the wider balcony point of egress.

Duchess led the way down the stairs, trotting around the hermit crabs. The little crustaceans were in rare form tonight, nearly all their antennae and shells glowing. The cat paid them no mind and pawed open Millie’s door a crack to let herself in, leaving the two humans alone in the alcove.

Bradley wet his lips and looked down at their joined hands. Not once since he’d lifted her out of the abyss with his magic had he let go of her. Not while they’d sat shoulder to shoulder upon his bed, not during their walk to her room. Their fingers were intertwined and fused for all he knew.

Millie shifted towards the door, pulling him forward in subtle invitation.

“Sleep well, Tula.” He unlaced their fingers and pushed open the door, hand tight on the handle lest he reach for her.

“Y-you, too.” Ducking her head, she went inside briskly, shutting the door behind her.

His forehead thunked lightly against the hard oak. Still gripping the handle, he leaned against the door and groaned.

Everything in him wanted to be on the other side of this door right now. He wanted that woman back in his arms, back where he knew she was safe. Where she belonged. Sweet mother of pearl, he’d never felt so complete before, not even when he’d had full use of his magic.

But to follow her inside would’ve been a mistake. They were both too vulnerable by the night’s recent events, and he wouldn’t take advantage of that, no matter how much his body was screaming at him. He rarely thought ill of his parents, but tonight, he’d wished they’d raised a scallywag instead of a gentleman for a son.

The Kraken take me. He banged his forehead against the door a third and final time. Drag me down and stuff me in the Locker.

On the other side of the door, he heard the rasp of fabric, the squeak of hinges, and a low sigh—the princess pushing herself away from where she leaned her back against the door. She’d been so close, less than three inches away. Probably just as frustrated and miserable as he was.

He needed a very cold shower. And to think about a great many things.

With a sigh, the apprentice forced himself away from the princess’s room.

CHAPTER 62

A MEETING HELD, A SECRET REVEALED, A PLOT THICKENED

The flight to Calumbria wasn’t a long one when a Great Red was fueled by an indurus spell and rage. When Dirk arrived, he was insufferably itchy and irritable and in desperate need of his emotional support cat. If she was visiting with Sir Eustace, he’d settle for the ferret.

Jaxson Sloop came awake during his fall to the ground. Dirk had deliberately missed dropping him over a haystack, aiming for a patch of green grass void of oxeye daisies. The traitor didn’t deserve a soft landing or flowers.

The faux deckhand cried out when he hit the ground. “You broke my arm!”

“I did nothing of the sort. If I was going to break anything of yours, it would’ve been your whole body. And the only reason I’m not doing that is because I don’t want to disappoint my princess.”

It was true. Dirk’s rein on his rage was thinner than a thread. Something savage twisted inside him, urging him to take his revenge, but then he’d never be able to face Millie, or Bradley. He was a good dragon, but his control was slipping.

Jax scuttled back like a crab, looking left and right. “Where’s Fink?”

“You’ll never see him again,” Dirk snapped. “And if I ever see you again, meat sack, I suppose I’ll find out whether or not I like my steak rare or well done.”

He whipped away, flattening the man against the grass with a blast from his tail.

Jax slitted his eyes against the peppering of hay and clover leaves until the wind died down and the dragon was far away. Cradling his broken arm to his chest, he struggled to his feet, brushed the debris off his vest and trousers, and stole into the nearby village.

It was an old settlement, the round stone cottages with their sod-covered roofs hunching together like dozing trolls. On the outskirts of town, closest to the community well and the dirt road, was a new-looking inn and stable. No candles burned in the windows, signaling the owners and tenants had all gone to bed. But he snuck a look through the glass all the same, because one never knew who had a spot of insomnia and was warming a bit of milk and honey on the stove, and he didn’t need anyone witnessing him stealing a horse.

What he discovered were two insomniacs, one blonde and female, the other gigantic and male, attempting to dispel their mutual sleep disorder with vigorous physical exertion that involved the trestle table, not one speck of clothing, the woman’s ankles propped on the man’s shoulders, and lots of steamy eye contact.

Flabbergasted, Jax slipped in the dewy grass and knocked his forehead against the windowsill. No one heard it above the robust groaning of the trestle table, and Jax, rubbing his brow, slipped off into the stables.

There, he helped himself to one of the horses and turned its head south. His bare heels rammed into its ribs again and again until the poor beast arrived at Cedarcross lathered and exhausted. Jax sold the horse for a quarter of its worth, since he had run it nearly to death, and sewed the bulk of his coins into the hem of his vest. The harder it was to get to, the less likely he was to gamble it away.

Then he waited. For days, maybe even two weeks. He spent his time drinking, chasing a few skirts, and performing acrobatic feats in the town square for tips. He didn’t get nearly the money he would have if Fink had been performing alongside him—cute little animals were always good at convincing the children to ply their parents out of a copper or two. But what he earned was enough to fill his belly with ale and stew every night with a few coins leftover to pay for a strumpet who didn’t have crotch rot.

Finally, the stagecoach he’d been waiting for arrived. Jax sat down across from the hooded men in the corner booth of The Hollow and helped himself to their ale.