“The pixie. Ziggy said you went out again this morning.”
I sighed. I didn’t want to discuss the damned pixie. I wanted to hear her laugh again and see her smile directed at me. “No.”
Her voice softened with a tinge of sadness. “Will you tell me why you trap them?”
Trust was a road that hadn’t been built between us, yet. I couldn’t reveal knowledge that could damn us all. Anything else she requested I would give. Not this.
I stood up. “One day.”
“Astaroth,” Calista pleaded when I went to my end of the table.
My heart thudded faster; in a rhythm I had felt in my youth. I loved hearing my name on her lips. I was certain it tasted much sweeter if she moaned it. It would take strategic moves on my part before I could find out.
“How did you break your fast?”
“Huh? Oh! Ziggy made another recipe of mine.”
I propped my elbows on the table and rested my chin on my folded hands. “Did he?”
“Yes. French toast.”
French toast. Sounded strange. I wasn’t sure about her pizza, but it turned out wonderful. As much as she enjoyed it, it had to be delectable.
Jessandra strolled into the room, excited as always with her ever-present glare. After Calista confessed her loneliness, I requested she spend time with her and take her outside the castle walls. She reminded me again that she wasn’t her babysitter.
“The market awaits.”
Calista’s mouth dropped open. “I get to leave the castle?”
“Yes. You’re being fitted for dresses.” Her grimace nearly made me laugh.
“The quicker we go, the quicker we return,” Jessandra said.
“Take your time, Calista. Get whatever you’d like.”
Jessandra pursed her lips but remained silent. The day she learned to follow orders to the T would be the day the entire labyrinth froze over.
Calista pushed back her chair, shot me one last look, and then followed her to the hall. Her pants only reached the very bottom of her butt cheeks leaving most of her bare for my perusal.
“Jessandra, see to it that she puts on pants before you go.”
Calista looked down at her nonexistent clothing. “What’s wrong with my shorts?”
She could wear those “shorts” all she wanted around my room, but she would wear them nowhere else.
Jessandra responded with a nod and nudged a confused Calista into the hall.
I relaxed in my chair listening to the two argue as they left. She would push my patience, but I would love every single moment.
“G’morning, sire.” Ziggy exited the kitchen with a covered dish.
“Good morning, Ziggy.” I took it from him and set it on the table, realizing it actually was a good morning. “The moan-worthy French toast, I presume?”
“No.” Ziggy laughed. “Sweet wheat.”
My gaze jerked to his. A mischievous grin pulled at his mouth. Calista’s joyful behavior made a lot more sense. And now she was going to market with Jessandra. I barked out laughter that rivaled Calista’s and Ziggy joined me.
“This should be interesting.”
