Page 202 of The Discount Damsel

Millie’s laugh cut off when she heard Sir Eustace’s bugle. “Go on,” she urged the others. “And get Sir Roger to help you. I’ll handle this.”

She retraced her steps to the workroom, pulse quickening. It was too soon. Dirk could barely move, let alone fly. How could he defend the tower from another Hero?

Bradley was already at the western balcony railing when she reached the workroom, and she hurried to his side. She looked out instead of down, searching for the Hero.

“Back from our little illicit holiday, are we?” the ministry official snarked, gesturing to the dune skiff with his spyglass. “And where is the dragon?”

“He’s down for his morning nap,” Millie answered. “And as I don’t see a Hero in the vicinity, are you contacting because you’re holding on to some mail for us or something?”

“No, I don’t have any of your mail. I am merely confirming that you both are staying put for the duration of the DDP, that is, the next three days.”

“Yes, I do believe we’ll be in residence.”

“Excellent, because there is a vast number of Heroes on their way and I’d hate for Dirk the Dangerous to disappoint them.”

Bradley and Millie paled.

The princess schooled her expression with an efficiency that frightened the apprentice, and she asked sweetly. “Is Duchess there with you?”

“She is. I’ve been keeping her properly brushed, by the way.”

“You’re a saint, Sir Eustace. Would you send her inside for a moment? Mummy needs a quick snuggle.”

“That alabaster goddess does what she likes, but I will convey your request since you have been a reasonable caretaker up until this point.”

“Thank you, Sir Eustace. And your cousin Renaldo says hello.”

“Renaldo? Disappeared to the Library of Xandria, did you? Well that rake can keep his hellos. They’re probably laced with STDs. I hope you’ve treated yourself to an expensive healing potion after the encounter.” The little man disappeared into his tent with a flap of his coattails, presumably to retrieve Duchess.

The moment his back was turned, Millie raced for the trapdoor with Bradley hot on her heels. “Dirk can’t defend this place,” she said in a rush. “We have to slow the Heroes down.”

“And how are we going to do that? We can’t even leave this place without Dirk’s help.”

“Yet my sweet little kitty has been doing it all this time.” She flattened against the wall to let Pocket, Duncan, and Sir Roger pass with pails of spring water. “When you’re done, I have need of you three,” she told them. “Join me in the dungeons, if you would.”

She didn’t wait for a reply, just hiked up her skirt and continued her mad dash down the stairs. Duchess was waiting for her on the sandy floor at the bottom of the stairs, fluffy tail curled around her paws. Millie extended her hand in greeting, waiting for the cat to acknowledge her with a touch of her nose, which she did. Pleasantries exchanged, Millie got straight to the point.

“Duchess, how is it that you’ve been sneaking out all this time? Do not even try to play coy and mysterious with me. This is for Dirk.”

The tip of her tail flicked once, twice, then Duchess rose with a little trill and padded away. She led them up the stairs and pawed open the room stuffed with all the armor and weapons. Weaving a well-known path through the disorderly heaps of steel, she went to a section of the wall and disappeared behind a circular shield so large it must’ve belonged to a giant. It took both humans to roll it away.

“Are you kidding me?” Bradley crouched down to peer through the sizable hole in the wall.

“Well you’ll never fit. Not with those shoulders.” Millie nudged him to scoot over. “But I will.”

“Don’t you dare. Hang on.” He disappeared and reappeared with some rope. “Arms up.”

“I can tie a suitable knot myself, you know. The dungeon cots are just a short walk away if you need a reminder.”

Bradley’s cheeks burned like freshly lit torches. He’d often wondered how the princess had tied him to the headboard. How close she must’ve been.

His voice had a rough edge. “Just let me do this.”

The sorcerer apprentice knotted the rope so it wouldn’t pinch or constrict, testing its tightness by slipping his hand between it and her stomach. His fingers itched to clamp down and tug the rope, and by extension, the princess, much, much closer.

“Be careful.” His voice was low and intense. “We have no idea where that leads.”

“Yes we do, just not the route it takes.”