I furrow my brow. “What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head. “I’m just tired.”
“But you can’t sleep.”
“No.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so despondent. She’s been hesitant, wary, and enraged, but never so downtrodden as she seems now. “You can tell me if something happened.”
Finally, she meets my eyes. “I had to dismiss one of my maids from service, that’s all.”
“Is there anything you would like me to do?”
“No.”
I slouch to the side, crossing my arms as I lean toward her with a sly grin. “Are you sure? I’m terribly effective at punishing one’s enemies.”
Another feeble laugh. “No, it’s fine. Please don’t make a big deal out of it. I’ve dealt with it on my own.”
“All right,” I say, sensing that she truly wishes me not to pry. My voice takes on a more serious tone. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No,” she says as she faces me fully. “You don’t have to go.”
Despite the smile she now wears, I can taste the murky energy that lingers around her. Something happened today, and for once, I don’t think it was because of me. I know she doesn’t want to talk about it, but…
“Do you want to come to my room?”
“Your room?” she echoes, wrapping her robe tighter around her as if she only now realizes her state of undress. “In the middle of the night and in my nightgown?”
“Yes.”
She scoffs. “For someone trying to improve his reputation, you sure have some scandalous notions.”
I infuse my tone with a hint of playfulness. “Come on. We’ve very few human guests staying at the palace who would even care. Besides, I too have a balcony. I’ll fly you straight there and no one will ever be the wiser. Plus, I have exactly what you need to make it worth your while.”
She raises a brow. “Is that so?”
I inch closer, lowering my voice. “I just so happen to be in possession of a marvelous instrument you can play.”
“An instrument?”
“Yes. It’s massive. Gargantuan, even. With one look, you’ll be begging me to let you put your hands all over it.”
Her expression hardens into a glower, and I sense annoyance rippling off her.
“I’m being completely serious,” I say with a laugh.
“About…”
“About my big, smooth—”
“Franco,” she says through her teeth.
“—pianoforte.”
Her mouth falls open, her expression flitting between excitement and suspicion. “Is this still innuendo?”
“See for yourself.” When she says nothing, I bellow a laugh. “I promise, I’m telling the truth. I have a piano in my quarters. No other bedrooms are near, so you can play as loud and as long as you want. Will you come?”
