“Well, thanks for your help with, um-” My eyes darted to the door, “-with what happened in there.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Miss Larkin. I was glad to help. Good morning.” He bowed his head once more before he slipped down the stairs. The front door opened and closed.
Gisela waved her feather duster in front of her face and sighed. “That man is so in love.”
“Is he?” I asked her.
She giggled. “Of course! The Lady Iris is his client and his unrequited desire. He’s been head over heels in love with her for years. He never misses one of her concerts.”
My eyes lit up. “She’s a performer?”
Gisela paused in her duster waving and frowned at me. “You’ve never heard of Miss Iris Dolios?”
I sheepishly smiled and shrugged. “I, um, I’m from a small island. What does Dolios do?”
“Why, she only has the loveliest voice in all the islands! She sounds like an angel, and looks like one, too. Even after all these years, she’s still as bright as a star.”
“A mound of makeup will do that. . .” Ramaro mumbled.
A yawn from me interrupted our conversation. Gisela’s smile softened, and she grasped my hand. “Come along, dear. Let’s get you to bed.”
Gisela guided me down the hall and passed many doors. We reached the end of the corridor, and she opened the portal that stood there. The open doorway revealed a small but elegant room wth an overplush bed and hearth. A dresser and rugs finished the furnishings.
Gisela stepped inside and nodded at a door to our right. “That leads to the bathroom. You’ll be sharing it with that cutey Captain Marc, but I don’t think you’ll mind.”
A faint blush accented my cheeks. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”
She winked at me. “I’m sure it will. I’ll go make up something for you to eat-”
“We’re fine,” Ramaro spoke up as he sauntered into the room. “We ate before we came here.”
Gisela puckered her lips out in a pout. “Well, foo, and I so wanted to treat you to my specialty. Well, if you change your minds, just ring the bell above the bed.” She waved her duster at my attire. “And if you need a nightshirt, there are some spare shirts of Eldric’s in the dresser. Good morning.” She tilted her chin back, tucked her feather duster under one arm, and stomped out, closing the door loudly behind her.
I looked down at Ramaro as he marched past me and to the bed. “What’s that about her food?”
He climbed the bed and plopped himself down on the plain but soft sheets. “Let’s just say that if everyone were forced to eat her food, many people would die of starvation.”
I took a seat on the edge of the bed beside him. “Does she burn it?”
“Nope.”
“Undercook it?”
“Nope.”
I huffed. “Then what does she do to it?”
He twitched his snout. “She overseasons it.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Surely it can’t be that bad.”
“Have you ever tried a steak with so much seasoning that you felt like you were chewing on a gravel pit?”
“Um, no.”
“Or soup that was so thick with herb leaves that you had to chew every bite?”
I held up my hand. “Alright, I get the picture.” I paused and leaned back to study my companion. “But what I don’t get is you.”
