“I have boots that need polishing,” Mansourah said, examining his fingernails. “Seems a fitting task for someone of your birth.”
Léirsinn eased herself from between them carefully, not sure if she were more grateful for lack of spells or lack of steel. She looked at Acair who was obviously nurturing a very warm anger and marveled at his self-control. Then again, the spell that endlessly trailed after him was standing there at his elbow like a gentleman’s second, hissing insults at Mansourah that seemed more like echoes of something she might have heard in a dream.
She wondered if perhaps another nap was in order before she lost her wits completely.
Unfortunately, she suspected not even a peaceful sleep would alter what she was seeing. It was odd, that spell there. It was still nothing more than a shadow of something that resembled a tall, gangly youth, but even she could see that it shared Acair’s fury. If she had been Mansourah of Neroche, she might have been nervous.
“I do believe I feel a bit of heat in my right hock,” she said, wondering if she might distract the men with a clever lie. “Or pains in my head. I’m not sure which it is.”
Acair took a deep breath, let it out very slowly, then took a step backward. He looked at her and smiled, every inch the grandson of a prince.
“Prince Mansourah will keep you safe,” he said politely. “You should see the palace, I daresay, before our illustrious monarch loses that as well. Not to be missed.” He made her a bow, then inclined his head to Mansourah. “After you, Your Highness.”
Mansourah didn’t move. “Are you going to plunge a knife into my back?”
“And miss the future pleasure of watching terror cross your features as you realize my spell of death is falling upon you and there isn’t a damned thing you can do to stop it?” Acair asked mildly. “I think not.”
“An honorable black mage.”
“Hardly that,” Acair said seriously. “I’ll spare my lady the depths of my depravity. You, however, will see the full measure, I promise you.” He gestured elegantly toward the door to the inn. “After you, Your Highness.”
Léirsinn wouldn’t have blamed Mansourah for hanging back but the man was obviously not a coward. He was also apparently no fool, for he only gestured for her to go ahead of them without bothering to offer her his arm.
She was grateful to reach their chamber safely, relieved to sit and have something very ordinary to eat, and too tired to fight the appearance of a maid who was soon called to help her dress. She endured what was required to make her look presentable, then happily showed the girl out of their chambers and shut the door behind her. She went to stand close enough to the hearth to try to warm her hands without setting herself on fire. Acair was sitting in a high-backed chair nearby, staring so thoughtfully at the flames that she couldn’t bring herself to disturb him.
She shifted, trying not to be distracted by the very lovely sound her skirts made. She had no idea what the fabric was, but she knew the color looked a great deal like the pines near Tor Neroche and she didn’t dare touch the damned thing.
“Lovely gown,” Acair remarked.
She glanced at him then and realized he didn’t look as peaceful as she’d first supposed. “Are you plotting something?”
“Perish the thought.”
She tried a different tack. “You have a remarkable amount of self-control.”
He looked up at her with eyes that she supposed might be likened to the sea, though surely not the dark business that she was familiar with. Perhaps a bay of greenish-blue water in some secluded spot. She wondered rather abruptly how it was that any woman still breathing managed to look away from him.
“I need him alive,” he said mildly.
“Mansourah?” she managed. “For a sparring partner?”
“He’s hardly worth the effort of drawing my sword,” he said seriously. “The only reason he’s still breathing is because I need him to keep you safe.”
“Me,” she said, wishing she sounded a bit more like she was scoffing instead of choking. “Surely not.”
“I am willing to travel in rather unsavoury circles to keep myself safe,” he said with a half shrug. “You? I wouldn’t take you within a hundred leagues of them, which leaves me relying on that fluttering faery to do what I cannot.”
She shook her head. “Who are you?”
He smiled briefly. “At the moment, I honestly don’t know but don’t think that uncomfortable self-examination will last long.” He looked at her, then shook his head. “Mansourah will be protection enough for the evening, but I’m already thinking on other means of assuring that you and I both see the spring.”
She would have expressed an opinion on that, but she was interrupted by Mansourah coming back inside the chamber from points unknown.
“Ready?” he asked pleasantly.
What she was ready to do was hike up her skirts and go hide behind the nearest curtain, but she supposed it was too late for that. Acair bundled her up in a cloak and herded her and her escort to the door. He held on to the wood at the level of Mansourah’s throat, his forearm preventing the prince from leaving.
“Kiss her,” he said distinctly, “and I will slay you with my bare hands.”
“I think she can decide that for herself,” Mansourah said coolly. “Let’s be away, Léirsinn, before he works himself into a state over things that are none of his affair.” He ushered her out into the passageway and pulled the door shut behind them. “Tea awaits.”
“May you choke on its bitterness!” was hurled at the other side of the door.
Mansourah smiled. “I don’t think that was directed at you.”
“I don’t think he means anything by it,” she offered. “We’re not—” She had to take a deep breath. “Well, we’re not . . . you know.”
“I think our friend inside has a different opinion on that,” Mansourah said, “but let’s ignore him for as long as possible. Simeon has never set a very fine table, but one can hope his cook won’t ruin tea and biscuits.”
She had her own thoughts on how easily food could be ruined, but she supposed there was no point in saying as much. She nodded, then followed Mansourah toward an evening she was fairly sure she wasn’t going to enjoy.
? ? ?
An hour later, she was walking down a poorly lit passageway and wishing she had traded places with Acair and remained behind as the servant.