Page 133 of The Discount Damsel

Him, come to her room? While she had no qualms sneaking into his to replenish her bath oil supply, Millie found the prospect of him visiting hers thrilling and terrifying in equal measure.

“Y-you’re much too busy,” she said briskly, pulling away and pretending the teacake dough needed her attention, which it very much did not. “The tisane—bruise, hard boil, steep ten minutes.”

“Yeah.” He shuffled back to his side of the kitchen and retrieved the teapot.

Millie stared at the baking teacakes and Bradley waited for the water to boil. Self-conscious and in need of a distraction, she withdrew a piece of cord from her apron pocket and started fiddling.

He recognized the familiar loop and threading of a bowline immediately. “You’re learning knots now. Who’s teaching you that?”

She kept fiddling, not looking at him. “Beau.”

“Figured it would be Jax.”

“Until I can get on a real ship, Beau’s got only a handful of lessons left. I’m not in the mood to learn a new dance, and I can’t swim until my hands heal, so it was knots.”

The horizontal mambo. Bradley had bristled upon hearing the uncouth knight’s offer, and if the princess understood the innuendo, she didn’t let on. The thought of that brute teaching her to dance, or skinny dipping in the name of swimming lessons, had him bashing the tisane into a pulp at the bottom of the mortar.

“I said bruise the herbs, Mr. Donmarin, not make a pesto.”

“Why does it sound like the kitchen is under attack?” Dirk swirled through the archway, a squirming ferret clutched in his front paws.

“Hello, Fink.” Millie immediately forgot her knot and cut off a sliver of butter for the dapper little creature.

“No treats. He’s in time-out. Got a little too nippy with the frog.”

“Is Henri alright?”

“He says only a princess’s kiss or chilled pinot grigio could cure what ails him, but he’s making do with a nap. Now what is all this?” The dragon swirled over to the mess on the counter with a hearty sniff. He immediately whirled on Bradley. “You said you were getting tea, Bradley, not treats! And nothing but crumbs left for me, I see. Hmph.”

“I can bring up the next tray just for you, Master Dirk.” Millie gave the luck dragon a quick kiss on the cheek. So close to his ear, she whispered, “Any luck on our trip to You Know Where?”

“Less than I’d like,” he whispered back. “The man was born with two sets of eyes, Millie. One for his work and one for mine.” He deposited Fink into her apron pocket and flew back to the archway. “I look forward to your confections, Millie. Bradley, were you coming back or were you going to fraternize for the rest of the day?”

“I’m not fraternizing.” Bradley snatched up the teapot and fled the kitchen.

In the workroom, Bradley was very mindful of the scrolls and books as he poured himself another cup of tisane and savored a large swallow. It was sweetened with apples and crystallized honey this time, mellowing the woody bite of the rosemary and enhancing the refreshing thrill of the lemon balm. He liked this new blend.

He liked the princess’s teacakes even better.

No one had made him apology pastry before. Ever.

He couldn’t go back to his studies now, not when it felt like a school of flying fish had taken wing in his stomach. But he had no time to waste, either. He could think about those teacakes and the woman who had made them later. If he could sit still.

The sorcerer apprentice opened Small Magicks and took another gulp of tisane. It wasn’t true research, but reading a passage would make him feel accomplished and give the tisane time to settle and sharpen his mind for the real work.

An illustration of a fat toad with enormous eyes accompanied the Sino characters, and the more Bradley translated, the more his own eyes bulged. The apprentice lurched forward in his seat, frantic.

“Bradley?” Dirk peeked over the stack of books separating them. “Your blood is like wildfire in your veins. What is⁠—”

“I’ve found it!” He jumped to his feet.

“Gah!” Dirk grabbed the teapot and redirected the tisane sloshing from its spout away from the books and into his bone china teacup. Calmer, but still clutching the teapot, the dragon flew to a hover above the apprentice as he dug through the sorcerous clutter like a madman. “Found what, Bradley?”

“I can’t believe it. It’s been staring at me right in the face this whole time!”

“What’s going on?” Millie asked, one hand braced against the trapdoor, the other full of a plate of chai teacakes with a mug of something hot and steaming nestled between the golden rounds.

Dirk flew to assist her, but mostly to help himself to the teacakes. He dunked a confection right into the pot. “Bradley’s finally cracked.”