I glanced at the two figures next to him. Cerridwen wore a curious smirk, while Barracus had the same frown he’d worn yesterday. The smell of food made my stomach rumble.
“Take a seat,” the woman said.
With a small nod, I moved cautiously towards the table, taking a seat a few chairs away from them, just in case.
“It’s wonderful that she skips the meals we invite her to but attends the ones we don’t,” Barracus muttered, his monotone accompanied by bored eyes.
“Do you like your chamber?” Finnegan asked, ignoring the older mage’s remark, his small lips tilting upward.
“I hope the floor was comfortable,” Cerridwen quipped, taking a sip from a steaming mug.
“Delightful,” I answered dryly, wondering if anyone else saw me there.
Finnegan’s brows knitted, but he didn’t reply, turning his attention to his porridge. I eyed the food. Cerridwen had a slice of bread on her plate, the same one from a basket.
“We know a great deal about poison, indeed,” she said, as if reading my mind. “But we save it for enemies, not our own meals.” She placed the basket in front of me. Noticing myhesitation, she sighed. “We don’t need to trick you to kill you. You’d be easy enough to kill without poison.”
“I bet,” I replied, already tense again.
“We’re not killers,” she added calmly, setting her mug down. “But suit yourself.”
My stomach growled louder, and I finally reached for the bread.
“Am I supposed to just overlook that some overbearing man-beast nearly mauled me yesterday?” I asked.
“And yet, you’re still here,” Cerridwen replied, barely stifling a yawn.
“He wasn’t going to hurt you,” Finnegan chimed in, reclining in his chair. “Maybe just scare you a little.”
I stared at him, realising he was serious.
“And the next time?” I asked tersely. “Is it just going to be another scare, or do I actually have to start worrying about my life?”
“That’s entirely up to you,” Reagan said by way of greeting.
He strode into the room, back in human form, dressed in a simple dark button-up and brown trousers, looking too composed, as if nothing had happened.
“You could try doing as you’re told,” he suggested, sounding annoyed as he slipped into the chair at the head of the table. “Or keep hurling those empty threats at the ‘overbearing man-beast,’ as you so eloquently put it.”
“You didn’t seem to find them empty yesterday,” I murmured, reaching slowly for the knife beside my plate.
Reagan’s eyes marked the movement, and I thought I saw his mouth twitch.
“If you obey, you’ll be safe here. It’s that simple.”
“I was safe before,” I said calmly. “I definitely don’t feel safe here. Wherever ‘here’ even is.”
“She’s got a point,” Finnegan said. “Maybe she needs a trip to the city. If she’s staying, she should know her way around.”
“You could take her,” Cerridwen proposed to the Mage Lord.
He raised a brow at her. “One of your finest ideas yet,” Reagan said flatly. “Shall I carry her on my back through the city?”
“I thought Malory told you to look after her,” she argued, ignoring his sardonic words. “And look into what happened.”
My stomach clenched, and the worry probably showed on my face. Yet the thought of leaving the castle intrigued me.
“I’d like to know where I am staying,” I said carefully. “But I’m sure Lord Reagan has better things to do.”
