Broken Dove (Fantasyland 4) - Page 30/174

He held my eyes and answered, “In here.”

I cocked my head to the side. “So I’m to sleep in the sleigh?”

“Not unless you fancy your digits being amputated tomorrow due to frost bite,” he replied.

“No, I don’t fancy that,” I informed him, taking great pains to keep my tone neutral. “So, will it be you or me sleeping on the floor?”

“Neither.”

I took in another deep breath, found calm on the exhale, and asked, “Would you care to explain?”

He did care to explain because he immediately did that.

“I need to get to Bellebryn without delay. You need a constantly vigilant guard. As you’re coming with me, I’m your guard. Therefore, I’m keeping you safe.”

“By sleeping with me?” I snapped, at his answer completely failing to keep my tone neutral.

“I can hardly keep you safe if I can’t keep my eye on you.”

“The guys managed to keep me safe on the journey here without any of them sleeping with me,” I pointed out and his eyes flashed in a different way at my remark.

I’d seen that flash before. It was the way I’d seen them flash the day before when we were talking about Derrik.

“There were eight of them,” he stated, cutting into my thoughts. “With eight of them, they could keep watch inside and out. There’s only one of me and I’ll be unable to keep an eye on you if you’re in a different room and I can’t actually see you.”

That was logical and totally irrational at the same time.

“Am I in imminent danger of being kidnapped?” I queried.

“I’ve no idea what the imminent danger is. I just know it’s imminent so I’m not taking any chances.”

Unfortunately, that was just logical which I found annoying. I wouldn’t know, of course, but I would guess malevolent witches with the power of gods were more than a vague threat to pretty much everybody so it was probably good to be prepared.

“Perhaps,” I began to suggest, “we can request a room with two beds.”

His head cocked slightly to the side and he asked, “Is this something available in your world?”

“Yes,” I replied with the sinking feeling that it wasn’t available in this one.

He confirmed that sinking feeling.

“Well, it isn’t available here.”

Fabulous.

“Apollo—”

He cut me off. “We sleep together Ilsa.”

I clenched my teeth.

Forcing myself to release them, I drew in another deep breath and tried again.

“Okay, maybe we can request a room with a bigger bed.”

“You’ve stayed in inns on your journey, no?”

I had. Many of them. And all of them (albeit, most of them cleaner and nicer) had beds like this. We’d happened onto bigger hotels and lodges along our journey that had way nicer rooms and much bigger beds but not in a village of this size.

Drat.

He assumed my answer was what it was even not verbalized and continued.

“It will also be warmer.”

It most definitely would be that considering he was a big guy, I wasn’t exactly tiny and us sharing that bed would mean personal mattress space would be at a minimum.

Or possibly non-existent.

Shit.

I couldn’t reply as there was a knock on the door and seeing as Apollo was standing in front of it, he turned and opened it.

A boy of about ten was standing outside. He looked up at Apollo and dipped his chin. When Apollo moved out of his way, he rushed in, his arms laden with split wood, a bucket dangling from one hand.

“Milady,” he muttered to me and didn’t wait for my greeting. He dropped to his knees by the fireplace and started work immediately.

Apollo didn’t get the door closed before a girl was at it, carrying a tray with a dark bottle on it, the top sealed with blue wax, and there were two simple wineglasses on it.

“The table,” Apollo muttered to her.

She bobbed a mini-curtsy, strode in two feet, gave me a mini-curtsy too, and then she moved to the table, making light work of depositing her tray and getting out of there.

Before she left, however, Apollo ordered, “Water so Lady Ulfr can refresh.”

The girl nodded briefly and took off.

Hmm.

The “Lady Ulfr” bit was something new (the guys had referred to me to staff as “madam”). I didn’t know how to feel about it but decided to ignore it. I ignored it mostly because what I did know how I felt about it was that it irked me at the same time I had to admit (against my will) it was kind of cool.

I also ignored the bobbing a curtsy, something that had happened frequently along my journey from Fleuridia to Lunwyn that I had not yet gotten used to.

Instead I noted, as I’d noted repeatedly along my journey, staff at inns didn’t get tips.

Staff at hotels and lodges did.

I found this slightly irritating since all of them—but by the looks of them especially the ones who worked at inns—could use the money.

Apollo moved to the wine and had it uncorked and glasses filled by the time the boy got the fire roaring and was backing away from it.

“Bring fuel,” Apollo commanded and the boy’s eyes lifted to him. “Enough for the evening. We’ve a long journey and need to be rested on the morrow. We don’t need to constantly be calling for wood.”

The boy gave a nod, a truncated bow and took off, closing the door behind him.

Apollo handed me a wineglass and I took it, asking, “Do you not know the word please?”

He held my gaze over the rim of his wineglass as he took a sip.

When he was done and had dropped his hand, he answered, “I do.”

“Can I ask why you don’t use it?” I pushed.

His body moved in a way that it was hardly moving at all but I could tell he was settling in, which I thought was a little weird, and it did this as he asked, “And what have I done to vex you, Ilsa?”

I took a sip of my own wine that was so far from the quality of Fleuridian wine it was not funny and thus I had to fight against making a face and replied, “I’m not vexed.”

“You’ve spoken one word to me all day, that being first thing this morning. Until we arrived at the inn. Then we make our room and you also make it clear nothing I do pleases you. Can you explain why?”

I threw an arm out and told him, “They’re servants but they’re people. You order them around like they’re slaves and beneath your notice.”

“They have many duties to see to from dawn until dusk, likely earlier and later, I would imagine. They don’t have time for courtesy and conversation.”