“Very well. I am assigning you kitchen duty. You will guard it from everyone else,especiallythe imps.”
The orc beamed with pride, shoulders thrown back as he nodded eagerly over his new assignment.
Fyodor watched me with narrowed eyes. I waited for him to comment, to argue that they were here to fight, not cook. He said nothing, turning away to help his companions gather up the manticore.
“Be careful when extracting the venom sacs,” I ordered. “I may need to refine it into more antivenom.”
“Yes, Your Lordship,” the minions answered dutifully.
I turned back to the minion hopefuls who had neither fled nor helped during the fight. They were under no obligation to help until they were under contract, but I now had an excuse to get rid of them. “You’re all dismissed.”
Several left without question. A few lingered, their hands flexing as they considered venting their frustration. Or perhaps they thought they could prove their worth through violence.
The lacertian and orc captains stepped up to either side of me, silently adding their support to my order.
The remaining interviewees left. I didn’t know what shadows they crawled back to, but I hoped to never see them again.
Once I was alone with my minions, I relaxed and pulled off my wig, running my fingers through my hair. “We’ll review the contracts tomorrow. You’re welcome to any rooms that aren’t already occupied. I’m turning in for the evening. If anyone needs me, my rooms are on the third floor.”
Fyodor nodded and quietly promised, “We won’t need you.”
He kept his promise. Not a single minion bothered me for the rest of the night.
Chapter Nine: Wilde
The Next Day
A Small Café in the Capital City of Misfortune
Getting to Know the Wrong Prince
The stack of books next to Fitz’s elbow wasn’t nearly as large as the one he’d taken from the library. He could reasonably carry them home himself but had allowed me to silently take some during our walk. A few storefronts down, we’d spotted some scattered outside seating, and he suggested we eat an early luncheon.
“So, Willow,” he began and paused to sip his coffee. Some of it spilled over the edge. He grimaced and set the cup down, patting at the damp spot on his waistcoat.
I cupped my chin in my hand and waited for him to finish.
Once he did, he settled back into his chair and stared at me for a long moment. “What was I saying?”
“I have no idea.”
He laughed, like I’d said something funny instead of simply stating the truth. “Right, that’s fair. I didn’t get much further than your name. Which is beautiful, by the way. Where does it come from?”
“A tree?”
He laughed again and fiddled with his cup. He started to raise it to his lips, remembered what happened last time, and set it down again. “What brings you to Misfortune?”
I straightened and sipped my own coffee to buy myself time. “What do you mean?”
“I haven’t seen you around before.”
“Have you met every person in Misfortune? I had no idea a prince’s social life was so extensive.” But if he had met every citizen, did that prove I wasn’t one of them?
The third laugh was dry and a bit choked. “No, of course not, I just know a lot of people who frequent the Luckless Library, and you stand out.”
I hummed noncommittally and drank more coffee. The hot liquid burned my throat as I swallowed too much at once. “You’re right, I am new to the kingdom. I’m from Bane originally.”
“Really? That’s wonderful! I’m meeting one of Bane’s princes next week.”
