The Earl of Acca rises to his feet. He runs his plump hand through his thinning red hair. “Perhaps the Scala Heir will honor us with a song?”
“Of course, Father.” Adair slides off her bench and walks over to the minstrel. She wears a long white cloak, just like the old Scala. The room grows quiet. “I know you’re all wondering what it’s like to be the Scala Heir.” She glances dramatically about. “Of course, it represents a massive power shift for the House of Acca.” She gestures to her father. He grins so hard his cheeks must hurt.
Adair folds her hands into her cloak’s long sleeves. “I’m now more than a thrax, maybe even more than a mortal.”
I roll my eyes. This is worse than the ‘can I feel your muscle-y muscles’ line. This girl needs a healthy dose of reality.
“Tonight, I wanted to share my personal Scala journey with you all.” Adair inhales a long breath and looks to the minstrel. “I’ve written a song to the tune of ‘Are you going to Scarborough Fair?’” She gestures to the lute player who plinks out a quiet melody. All faces are locked on Adair and her song.
Now’s my chance.
I creep along the dining room’s main ceiling beam, my evil cargo in hand.
Adair clears her throat, then sings with a warbling old-lady voice:
Who will worship the Scala Adair?
All the thrax if given the time
My powers are great, my face is so fair
Who won’t want the love that is mine?
She stares directly at Lincoln’s face when she sings the ‘love that is mine’ part. His features subtly twist into a ‘yikes’ face, a movement that makes him raise his eyes. He sees me and winks.
Warmth blooms through my chest; a smile curls my lips. Lincoln’s way different than I thought. Funny, handsome, sexy, and—let’s not forget my favorite attribute—able to hold his own and compete with me. Part of me wonders if I’m going too far, too fast, feeling things for a guy who I thought was a major jerk only a few days ago. Good thing another part of me takes the worrying part out back and kicks the shit out of it.
The lute player strums another few bars, then Adair sings again.
My powers are great, my face is so fair
Who won’t want the love that is miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine?
Lincoln glances in my direction and mouths the words ‘no way.’ I grin. A weight falls off my shoulders that I didn’t know I carried. I guess part of me was worried what it meant that Lincoln and Adair were angelbound. I’d hate to think of him as stuck with that dingbat forever.
Speaking of the dingbat…I smile, then mime showing off my arm muscle to Lincoln. I soundlessly move my lips while saying ‘Can I touch you?’
Lincoln scowls, his head shaking from side to side. Angling his forehead in my direction, he pointedly smoothes his eyebrow with his middle finger. I have to bite my fist not to laugh out loud.
Adair raises her arms. “Thank you, my people!” The room breaks into enthusiastic applause, no one more than the Earl of Acca. Lincoln claps politely. After that, he gulps a mouthful of wine.
Waving, I catch his attention. I point to the box in my hands, and then to the small window at the other end of the wooden beam.
Lincoln nods slightly and stifles laughter, his cheeks still full of wine. He tries to swallow his gulp and starts coughing instead.
Avery rushes to his side. “Are you alright, your Highness?”
Lincoln clears his throat. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Was there something in the rafters that bothered you?” She tilts her head upwards. I freeze.
Crap, I’m going to get caught.
He grabs Avery’s hand. “No.” Her attention locks on his face. “There’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask you, um, Avery.”
Avery’s already-large eyes open wider. “Oh, my. Whatever you want, your Highness.”
“How are you…” He bites his lips together.
“Yes? Yes?”
“Enjoying…Your dinner?”
“Oh, it’s very good, your Highness. I always like brisket.”
“Well, okay then.” He releases her hands and nods gravely.
Grinning ear to ear, I open my little case of Reperio demons.
Here it comes.
The nasty little buggers skitter across the ceiling beams and down the walls. The tiny paper men hop onto the feasting tables, kicking over wine glasses and stomping through brisket. The pencil-ladies twist the silverware into little lewd sculptures.
The thrax go completely berserk. No one brought weapons and everyone’s sworn to fight demons, even though Reperio are more mischief than danger. There’s a lot of fork chucking and potato-throwing.
I quickly scoot across the beam, jump out the opposite window and land outside the hall. Lincoln easily slips out the door in the confusion. I grab his hand and run for it. His grip is warm and firm, sending prickles of excitement through me. We reach the stables and pause.
I laugh so hard, I wrap my arms over my stomach so I don’t fall over. “Did you see the look on Adair’s face?”
“Adair? I was watching the Earl of Acca. I think he was going to cry.”