“I’m not sure about that. You left deep claw marks on the flank of one and bit the other in the shoulder, tearing a hole that will take time to mend. In short, you impressed them anew with your ferocity, and I believe they want you more than ever.” With a grin, Zilek stepped forward and reached for the plate of bacon.
Jildarin caught him by the wrist. “The remaining pieces are for Rylana.”
Zilek looked at her as if he’d just noticed she was there. “Your servant?”
“My…”
Rylana waited for him to finish with the traditionalenemy.
“Ally,” was what he said.
She smiled, her heart warmed.
“Shehasn’t bribed me, nor set me up to be bribed,” Jildarin added.
“She did shoot you.” Zilek waved to Jildarin's temple.
“Not recently. Further, she assisted me with my rival at the Golden Whisk.”
“Well then, I’m pleased my insistence that you take her on to help with your books has worked out.” Zilek gave the plate a longing look, but he stepped back, and Jildarin released his wrist. “You are most welcome,” Zilek added, heading for the doorway. “Perhaps you’ll join me at the wine conclave next month.”
“Do you believe him?” Rylana asked when they were alone again. “That he was trying to help, not set you up for anything?” She wasn’t sure she did.
“We have been rivals since we were hatchlings but have also always watched out for each other,” Jildarin said. “I do not think he had anything to do with Yerin’s scheme or intended for me to fail in the competition, but he has not supported me as fully as some.” He nodded to her, and the warmth returned. “As I was saying, I desire for you to become?—”
“Rylana?” Zalani stepped into the doorway. “There’s a man here to see you.”
Rylana huffed in exasperation. “It can wait.”
She wanted to know what Jildarindesiredher to become.
“He says he’s an important lord. And, er, your father.” Zalani raised her eyebrows. “When you mentioned being a mercenaryand fighting in the war, I assumed— I didn’t think you had any family left. Are yousureyou’re not related to the Avandars that live across the lake?”
Rylana grimaced. She didn’t want to see her father but knew making him wait wouldn’t improve his mood.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she told Jildarin and grabbed a piece of bacon. Before she’d more than turned toward the door, she rotated back to grab a second slice, popping one into her mouth on the way. Oh, yes. That was every bit as good as she had expected.
“Do you want some to share with your sire?” Jildarin asked as she walked into the hallway.
“No.”
Rylana wasn’t sharing her reward withanyone. It was delicious. Andhers.
She chomped down both slices on the short walk from the kitchen to the freshly painted dining room. Even though it had been cleaned and tidied, showing no signs of the fire, her father stood near the door with his coat folded over his arms, looking around like he couldn’t wait to depart.
“What is hedoing here?” Rylana murmured.
Zalani had walked out with her and smiled, extending her hand toward the glowing whisk in the window, as if the answer were obvious.
“I doubt he knows anything about the contest,” Rylana said, though her father always read the newspaper, so that probably wasn’t true. He would at least beawareof it.
As Rylana approached, Jildarin exited the kitchen, but he remained in the hallway and didn’t look like he would interfere with her conversation. He’d probably come out to watch. Rolf and Gniknik, who appeared to be arguing about a tip left on a table, also turned to look.
Rylana had no idea what her father wanted but wished he’d sent a note and invited her to meet somewhere else.
“I have heard,” he said without preamble, “that you are now a bookkeeper.”
She couldn’t tell from his tone if he approved or thought that was as lowly a job as being a mercenary.
