Page 187 of Winter Gods & Serpents

He scowled. “Bring back my partner in crime. It's no fun teasing him all on my own.”

I patted his shoulder. “You have Cai, let him have this one.”

Greeting the lord with a kiss on his cheek, that made him rumble in sweet laughter, I took my seat next to the older brother.

“Snow,” Albius called, standing. “I am afraid duties await me, enjoy breakfast. Would you meet me in the viceroy quarter in city centre this afternoon? There is a matter I wish to discuss with you.”

I nodded. “I will meet you there.”

“Slept well?” Kilian asked, reading a piece of paper deep in concentration.

“Sleep is for the dead.” Hungry, I turned to pile food on my plate.

He folded the paper and put it in his pocket before facing me. “Why won’t you let me help you?”

“How?”

“With my magic of course.”

“Ah.”

“Ah, what?” he repeated, staring confused at me. I didn’t reply, only stared back shamelessly till his mouth gaped open just slightly in realization of the direction of my thoughts. “I doubt that would get you to sleep, Snow. It’s never a short ride with me, neither sweet. Maybe you are too used to the Venzorian, I bet his hooves tire out in seconds.”

My fingers curled and I crossed my legs, hoping the action was not too obvious to be frustration. It was my fault, I’d owe to it.

Cutlery dropped loudly from my left and we both turned to Mal.

“You two—” he began.

I placed a hand on his arm. “Hearing things too? Kil, darling, you should honestly consider checking your brothers well-being, I am concerned.”

“Of course, love, I’ll take him to a healer right after.”

“I am mad, yes, do take me to a healer,” he said, waving a fork in the air before murmuring, “you two are driving me mad anyway.”

“What was the matter with Larg and that—” I asked Kilian.

“Stregor,” he answered, somewhat sternly putting more food on my plate. “An idiot who plays mighty with a gilded feather. I cannot complain however, I was one of them who gilded his feather. He is one of them, one who uses gods ambiguous ways to his bidding.”

He remembered my words. “Give a donkey too much attention and it will think it’s a horse. Don’t pay mind, darling.”

He smoothed jam over the bread I’d buttered before handing it back to me. “If I asked you to call me that every time?”

I took a bite. “Depends, what do I win from it?”

He wiped the corners of my lips with his thumb before bringing it to his mouth. “Depends, what does my beast want.”

I coughed. “Am I yours now?”

He filled me a glass of water. “Are you not?”

I took a few sips. “You are very versed in deflecting my questions.”

“And you’re still stubborn enough not to answer me first.”

“You live to exasperate me.”

“The tables have turned,” he said, leaning back on the chair, throwing an arm over the rest.