Spellbinder (Moonshadow #2)

“I missed breakfast,” Sid told him. “I hope it wouldn’t be too much trouble to get something simple, like maybe a slice of bread and butter?”

He pointed at her. “You miss a meal, it’s on you. I create court meals every single day, and I see the servants get fed as well. I don’t have time for anyone who shows up here looking for a snack.”

Sid narrowed her eyes. Clearly, there was a pecking order to this castle, and she was tired of being the one who got pecked on.

“I understand,” she said in a soft, even tone. “I have been rehearsing so intensely to play for the Queen I haven’t been able to make mealtimes yet. Perhaps you will make an exception just this once. If I don’t have the energy to practice properly, I’m sure her majesty won’t be pleased at the result or be very forgiving of the reason why.”

By the slight widening of his eyes, she knew she had scored a hit. “Very well,” he said stiffly. “I will make an exception in your case.”

“I appreciate that.” She smiled.

The Queen’s love for music must be well-known. Perhaps there was leverage to be gained from that. It might not win Sid her freedom, but she could make her life a great deal more comfortable until she could find a way to go home. And there was nothing wrong with doing whatever she could to make her life better in the meantime.

The intense man stalked away. She watched him pluck a small, round golden loaf of bread from a pile set on a large platter. Then he went over to a steaming pot that hung suspended over a fire in the giant fireplace.

His back was to her, so she couldn’t see what he did then. When he returned, he thrust the loaf into her hands, and handed her a plain metal spoon. An appetizing fragrance rose from the loaf. As she inspected it, she saw that he had cut away the top, scooped out the middle of the loaf, and filled it with a thick, meaty stew.

It was so much more than what she had hoped for, she stared at it. “This is amazing,” she told him. “And it smells delicious.”

She must have said the right thing, because his stiffness relaxed. While he did not quite smile at her, he gave her a short nod in acknowledgment of the compliment.

“Be sure to let her majesty know how honored I am to support her love of the arts,” he said. “And you may have as much food as you require whenever you like. Be sure to ask for me.”

If only Sid could reach such an accord with everybody so easily. She nodded in return. “I will,” she replied. “I’ll be sure to ask for you by name.”

“I am Triddick. And you?”

“Sid.”

His expression filled with curiosity. “When do you play for her majesty?”

“Soon,” she told him. “Tomorrow evening.”

“She has exacting tastes,” he told her, not without a good amount of pride, since that reflected on him. “You must be quite nervous.”

“I was yesterday,” she replied with a smile. “Now I’m looking forward to it.”

Arching one eyebrow, he studied her with that intense, narrow stare. “With her music master, Olwen, away visiting his family, you have a rare opportunity. Good luck to you, young lady.”

“Thank you,” she said. Indicating the loaf, she added, “And thanks for breakfast.”

He inclined his head in reply. As she turned away, she almost bumped into a man who had come up behind her.

Looking up, she was about to apologize, when she froze, staring.

The man was obviously human, or at least humanlike, with dark hair, a weathered, cynical face, and wolfish eyes. He had a powerful build and wore leather armor, along with a knife and a sword.

As he ran his gaze down her figure, cold interest glittered in his eyes. “Well, well,” he said. “What delicious tidbit do we have here?”

From behind her, Triddick snapped, “She is not for the likes of you, Warrick.”

“I’ll be the judge of what should be for the likes of me,” the man named Warrick replied in a soft growl while he showed hard, white teeth in a semblance of a smile. “What’s your name, precious? And where can I find you?”

As she listened to the exchange between the two men, her stomach tightened. Heart hammering, she searched Warrick’s cold gaze for any hint that he might be her Magic Man. He seemed to be the right size and build, although she didn’t think she could know for sure unless she put her hands on him.

But the thought of touching him, or allowing him to touch her, made her recoil. His gaze was so predatory. This couldn’t be the man who had healed her, who had talked with her so compassionately and offered her help from a well of his own painful memories.

This couldn’t be the man who had run his hands so gently down her body as he kissed her so passionately…. Could it?

If she’d been wearing the telepathy earrings, she could have asked him. But she had kept them, along with her stones, safely tucked into her pocket. Maybe they worked when they came in contact with her skin?

As she started to slip a hand into her pocket to find out, Triddick snapped, “She’s the Queen’s new musician, and you will leave her alone! Now, this is my domain, and you are not welcome here. Be off with you!”

Warrick’s interest in her shifted to a much more chilling expression. Setting one hand on the hilt of his knife, he said softly to Triddick, “One of these days you’ll snap at me one too many times, old man. And I promise you won’t like what happens next.”

The activity in the kitchen had stilled. Sid noted that all eyes were on them.

“Wow,” she said to Warrick, loud enough for everyone to hear. “How mad do you think the Queen would get if you messed with her food?”

He didn’t like that, she saw as his eyes narrowed and the expression in them flared, quick and hot. But he said nothing more. Instead, after a slow, cold look around the room, he turned on one heel and left.

Watching him leave, she muttered to Triddick, “What an asshole.”

But what if that had all been an act? Warrick was literally the only other person she had seen so far who wasn’t Light Fae.

Triddick focused his attention onto her. “Warrick is one of the Queen’s Hounds, and he’s very dangerous,” he told her in a quiet voice meant for her ears alone. “He would never dare to act in such a way if Morgan were here. You’ll stay away from him, if you know what’s good for you.”

Very dangerous, hmm? With a sinking heart, she realized that would fit with everything Robin had said to her. She didn’t want it to, but it did fit.

And who was this Morgan guy?

Just as she was about to ask Triddick, he strode away, snapping orders to his kitchen staff, and their brief moment of accord was over.

Maybe Kallah would answer some of her questions if Sid could catch her in the right mood. Or better yet, perhaps Myrrah.

Or maybe she should just keep her mouth shut, eat her food, and get back to the music hall. She mustn’t forget all these people had lived here for a long time before she showed up. They would have alliances, grudges, and motivations she couldn’t possibly know anything about.