The Wish Granter (Ravenspire #2)(72)

She stalked out of the room, but not before he’d given the barest hint of a nod. She’d delivered her words rapidly, but lingered for a second on the word two.

He needed to keep Maarit with him and give the princess a few minutes alone.

“What did she protect you from?” he asked before Maarit could follow the princess.

“From you.” She pointed one gnarled finger at his chest. “Pounding at the door. Scared us both. Where are the guards?”

“They’ll be waking up any minute now.” Sebastian took a step closer to Maarit, crowding into her space even though it sent waves of panic crashing through him and set his teeth on edge. “So the princess heard what you both thought was someone dangerous at the door, and she grabbed a sword and ran toward the sound. To protect you.”

And didn’t that sound exactly like Ari.

“I didn’t ask her to do that,” Maarit snapped, but her frown softened.

“You didn’t have to,” he said quietly. “Now, where’s the kitchen?”

Maarit led the way past a sitting room and into the kitchen, a generous space with large, rain-streaked windows, enough knives and heavy pots to use as decent weapons in a pinch, and two separate exits. She motioned for him to sit at a long rectangular table lined with benches on either side. He sat with his back to the wall and watched her.

The older woman said nothing while she tossed a hunk of bread and a handful of seasoned olives on a plate and put it in front of him. Her eyes wandered to the coin bag he’d unchained and placed on the table at his elbow. He leaned forward to block her view.

“That is for Teague alone.”

She sniffed and turned away. There was a whisper of sound from the north doorway that led to the dining room, and Sebastian turned to see the princess walking into the kitchen. She’d changed out of her damp dress and braided her hair. Taking one glance at his plate, she said, “Don’t eat that.”

He leaned back and watched as she checked the firebox beneath the stove and then put a skillet onto one of the raised cooking surfaces.

“I made him lunch.” Maarit sounded offended.

“No, you put something barely edible on a plate.” The princess grabbed bacon, eggs, and a slab of cheese from the icebox. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you one too.”

“I’m not hungry. I had the marketing today and then all this extra excitement. It’s enough to wear a body out.” Maarit yawned and looked at the door that led to the dining room and from there to the rest of the villa.

Sebastian watched the tiny smile playing at the corners of the princess’s mouth with interest. What was she thinking about? When he realized his interest had wandered to the way the fabric of her dress draped across her hips, he made himself stare down at the plate Maarit had given him while the smell of frying bacon filled the air and his thoughts sent heat spiraling through his body.

She was still the princess. And after what he’d done in east Kosim Thalas to earn Teague’s trust in the last five days, he was something worse than a servant.

But even though he could come up with one hundred reasons why he shouldn’t notice her skin or her hips or the secret smiles she tried to hide, all he really wanted to think about was the fact that he’d stood close to her. He’d touched her. And he’d forgotten to brace for pain.

“Are you sure you don’t want one?” the princess asked Maarit as she set a plate in front of Sebastian. A fried egg and several slices of bacon were layered over a thick piece of toasted bread and topped with melted cheese. His stomach instantly reminded him that he’d barely eaten in the last day and a half. He hadn’t been able to afford it. Every spare coin he’d gained from selling the palace’s horse had gone to relocating Felman or to helping pay out contracts owed to Teague.

“That bacon was for breakfast,” Maarit grumbled.

“There’s no wrong time to eat bacon.” The princess set another plate beside Sebastian’s, her secret smile back in place.

Maarit turned for the door. “The boss will be home shortly. If I were you, I wouldn’t do anything stupid.”

Sebastian waited until the woman left the kitchen before asking, “Where is she going?”

“She naps all afternoon. On days when she’s gone to the market, she naps even earlier. She’s really old.” The princess swept around to Sebastian’s side of the table, settled onto the edge of the bench, and then scooted until she was beside him.

He was acutely aware of the slim space between them. Of the warmth of her body against his rain-chilled skin. He took a bite of his food before he said something that could ruin everything.

“Why were you pounding on the door?” she asked softly, her eyes darting toward the doorway where Maarit had disappeared to go upstairs. “I was sure it wasn’t you because I thought you’d be more subtle.”

“I got tired of waiting for Teague to come to me. And I couldn’t stand not knowing if you were all right.”

She smiled down at her food, and her cheeks turned pink.

What did that mean? That he amused her? That she was embarrassed by his actions?

A second later, she twisted to look at him. “Wait. Why would Teague come to you?”

“Because I have something that belongs to him.”

Her eyes widened. “Please tell me you didn’t steal from him.”