Page 31 of House of Crimson Cloak and Silver Teeth

Garrett doesn’t comment on my hesitation. He just starts eating. I follow his example silently.

“After this, there’s a museum I want to show you,” Garrett says, cutting into his roasted fish. “You’re here protecting me for another thirty days or so. Might as well see the city.”

And then I understand.

Garrett’s not going to the museum for himself. He’s doing this for me. The guy plans to show me around Aelfheim like I’m a guest instead of hired help.

This isn’t normal. Clients don’t do this. They don’t take their guards sightseeing or personally escort them to healing temples every other day to fix old injuries. What’s his game?

I have to swallow past the sudden tightness in my throat.

“That’s not necessary,” I manage.

“Consider it part of the job,” Garrett says with a slight smile. “Knowing the city makes you a better guard. That’s what I’ll tell my father anyway.”

I need Lord Clayborne to confirm I’m fulfilling my duties. A confirmation that the contract is proceeding well and I’m competent will keep me from ending up in the crypts.

“If you think it’s necessary,” I agree.

We finish our meal in comfortable silence. I try not to think about how easy this feels.

The food is better than anything I’ve ever tasted. Each bite is a revelation of flavors I didn’t know existed. I eat slowly, savoring it, knowing I’ll probably never experience anything like this again once the contract ends.

Garrett watches me with an expression I can’t quite read. There’s something soft in his eyes as he looks at me.

We’re leaving the dining house when a voice calls out. “Garrett Clayborne. As I live and breathe.”

Two high elves approach. The taller one has his silver-blonde hair pulled back in an intricate braid. His petite dark-haired partner has eyes of amber. Her features are so perfect they almost don’t look real. They move gracefully and when they reach us, they embrace Garrett like old friends.

Or lovers.

“Teris. Sylmae.” Garrett’s smile is genuine and warm. “It’s been too long.”

“Whose fault is that?” Teris asks, laughing. His hand lingers on Garrett’s shoulder. “You disappear to your keep for months at a time. We’ve missed you.”

“Terribly,” Sylmae adds, her fingers trailing down Garrett’s arm. “You’ve been avoiding us.”

They laugh together, easy and familiar. Inside jokes and shared history that I’m not part of. I have the strangest urge to step between them and pull Garrett away from their touching hands and knowing smiles.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Garrett’s my client. My charge.

So why do I want to kill them both?

Sylmae notices me finally, her amber eyes curious. “And who is this?”

“Wolf,” Garrett says simply. “My protection.”

“Protection?” Teris raises an elegant eyebrow, looking me up and down. “Since when do you need protection?”

“Since my father decided it.” There’s an edge to Garrett’s voice now.

Teris doesn’t take the hint. “From Tiamat, I assume? The mask gives it away.” He wrinkles his nose. “How... exotic.”

Sylmae is more tactful. She offers me a polite nod before turning back to Garrett. “We’re hosting a gathering next week. You should come. Bring your... companion, if you must.”

They chat for a few more minutes, trading gossip and old jokes. The whole time I stand there watching Sylmae’s hand rest on Garrett’s forearm. A growl lodges in my chest when Teris leans in close to whisper something that makes Garrett laugh.

I’m losing my mind.