“Sorry, Luca.” Blanca wiped tears from her eyes. “Go see to the horses and I’ll have some porridge ready before you can turn around.” She moved across the kitchen, lifting a wooden pail.
“I’ve already seen to the horses,” Luca muttered from the doorway. His head kept pivoting between Blanca and Aden.
“Then quit complaining and get me some water.” Blanca forced her pail into Luca’s empty hands.
He left, continuing to mutter under his breath. Aden only caught the words “bad knees” and “chop the wood.”
Blanca dipped a wooden spoon into the pot hanging above the fire.
“Shall I grab you some fish for that porridge?” Aden asked. “It would add a nice flavor, especially with a drizzle of honey.”
“Absolutely not.” She laughed at him. “But you can make yourself useful by fetching me some salt.”
Aden happily obliged.
Later that night, when he collapsed into bed, Aden felt light and... normal. Following the older woman around the kitchen and villa as she made the place more livable had turned out to be surprisingly enjoyable. And if her constant stream of lighthearted chatter was anything to go on, she seemed to have enjoyed his company as well.
Chapter 17
Aden knocked on the library door.
He heard a sigh of frustration from the other side that was probably not meant for his ears. His mouth twitched into a smile. He enjoyed the fact that his presence bothered her as much as it did.
“Yes?” Isa said, opening the door.
“It’s your turn.”
“My turn?”
“To play nursemaid to the crazy beast inhabiting your castle,” Aden responded.
“It’s hardly a castle, and I thought you didn’t play games,” she said, using his own words against him. She kept the door only partially open, not fully inviting him into the room.
“Oh, it’s not a game, Lady Bielsa.” He kept his expression sincere. “Of course, if you’d prefer, I can wander the grounds unattended, causing damage and tearing through draperies.” He lifted his paw, giving her a glimpse of the knife-like points of his claws.
She stepped back and opened the door all the way.
He stepped inside, having accomplished his goal, but was startled by the force with which she slammed the door closed behind him.
“Do not toy with me.” Her words were quiet but angry. “And do not bother me.” She returned to the shelf at the far corner of the room.
Aden watched her. The sounds of her firm footfalls emphasized her anger. He did not know why that pleased him.
Being a prince, he was quite familiar with people trying to flatter him. This was often a source of frustration, and it was delightful that she did not even bother trying to impress him.
He moved over to the empty chair by the fireplace and made himself comfortable.
He was not sure which was more enjoyable, spending his day in a library or continuing to bother the fiery woman behind the tall shelves. Growing up, he had watched Ian and Onric constantly fight to best each other, and since he could never keep up, he had found his own solace in the library at home. He preferred the more even playing field of an intellectual debate. This woman did not mince her words.
Unable to read, he sat, listening to the sounds of her shuffling through the contents of the shelves. Whatever she was looking for, she was entirely focused on her task.
Aden, however, was growing steadily more bored. As much as he admired this woman’s confidence and focus, he did not appreciate being bored.
He stood from his chair and wandered toward her, pretending to stop and browse different shelves on the way.
“What are you looking for?” he asked as he drew closer.
“Nothing that concerns you,” she replied.
