Page 11 of Wanted: Rogues and Bards

“Uh-huh,” Fenric grunted, still wondering how Malfas stayed alive with no need to take a breath during his long, winding thoughts. Fenric leaned halfway across the table toward Rain. “Are you good with this? Weren’t you the one who argued he’s an assassin⁠—”

“I said con artist and thief,” Rain corrected him.

Fenric nearly groaned. “Yeah, ’cause no thief ever poisoned someone to get what they want.”

Belstrom leaned forward from where he sat next to Rain, joining in their harsh whispers, assuming Maxie couldn’t hear them over whatever delicious thing was sizzling in the pan. “Maxie was as good as gold all night. He never stirred from the spot where he fell asleep. Not until daybreak, and Hapi was already awake to greet him.”

Rain delicately sniffed and waved a hand at Fenric, as if daintily shooing him away. “If you’re afraid of his cooking, you can leave.”

“Fuck you,” Fenric growled, making the old pirate cackle.

Thankfully, he was saved by Maxie, who was still wearing the clothes he’d borrowed from Fenric. The poor guy was practically enveloped in them. Things were tucked and tied in weird places. There was even a length of rope around his waist just to hold his pants up. But none of that mattered because his hands held a large tray loaded with mouthwatering food. Glistening sausages, golden-brown biscuits, fluffy cakes, beans, and even some perfectly ripe sliced fruit. Fenric swallowed the growing pool of saliva in his mouth and fought the urge to launch himself at the display. Day to day, he had enough food to get by, but this was a feast, and it had been way too long since he’d last had access to something that looked so fucking good.

“I hope you don’t mind me cooking for you this morning,” Maxie stated with a shy blush painting his round cheeks. “I just wanted to find some way to thank you for taking me in.”

He set the tray on the table, and they descended on the food like a swarm of piranhas. Fenric snatched up his fork and speared two sausages before Rain could grab them. He continued to load up his plate as high as he could manage. If he ate all of this food, he was going to crawl right back to bed because the ensuing food coma would be intense.

“Um…where’s Hapi?” Maxie inquired.

“Went back to bed,” Malfas replied around a mouthful of beans. It had to be the one time Fenric had heard him restrain his speech.

“The necromancer is not what you would call a morning person.” Despite his enormous build and stature, Belstrom was dainty as he ate, keeping to small, precisely cut bites instead of shoveling the food in like the rest of his companions.

Maxie’s smooth brow furrowed, and he shifted from one foot to the other as he continued to stand at the end of the table. “Should I go up and wake him? I’d hate for him to miss out on breakfast.”

“You snooze, you lose.” Fenric moaned as the rich flavors of the sausage burst across his tongue. Screw sleep; breakfast was better.

“I wouldn’t unless you want him to kill you and raise you after he’s finished sleeping,” Rain added.

“Oh. Okay. I can just whip something up for him later when he wakes up.” Deciding not to try his luck with Hapi, Maxie sat beside Fenric and started making a plate for himself.

Fenric took a big bite out of a biscuit, and a happy humming noise escaped him as the fluffy, buttery goodness filled his mouth.

And Rain thought Maxie was a con man and a thief. Ridiculous.

Of course, Fenric realized his own theory of Maxie being a noble was going up in smoke as he ate. The nobility all had entire armies of servants. At the very least, they had a cook. It wouldn’t have been normal for Maxie to have ever stepped into a kitchen, let alone learned to cook like a chef, if he were a nobleman’s son.

Had he picked up a book and just been a natural?

Was cooking a hobby?

Fenric still refused to believe he could be anything other than a member of the aristocracy.

After swallowing the bite in his mouth, Fenric lifted his gaze to his companions to suggest Maxie take over cooking duties when his stomach suddenly knotted. A cold sweat broke out over his entire body, chilling him as if he’d stepped into a winter ice storm. What the hell? Was he coming down with a cold? He was never sick. Another stab of pain twisted his guts, and his throat swelled.

He blinked against the pain and a groan stretched through the room. Fenric snapped his attention across the table to find both Belstrom and Rain looking so pale they were almost grey. Rain’s face twisted up, lines digging deep as he rested his head beside his plate on the table.

A heavy thud on Fenric’s right made him jump. He snapped his head around to find that Malfas had fallen out of his chair and was now curled up on the floor in the fetal position, clutching his stomach.

Poison?

Had Maxie fucking poisoned them?

“Wh-wh-what’s happening?” Maxie stammered, jumping to his feet.

Fenric looked up to find Maxie’s sweet face twisted in horror. Tears glistened in his wide golden eyes, clinging to his long eyelashes as they fought to break free and tumble down his face.

“Poison. Did…you…poison us?” Fenric rasped, curling in on himself as the pain in his guts intensified.