Page 234 of The Discount Damsel

Her scowl was immediate. “The last time a Tisane offered someone a job, they destroyed her reputation.”

“It’s just a little job. A favor, really. It will probably involve massive property damage to the Amberly castle.”

Sicily’s eyebrows shot skywards, and Ivar’s eyes sparkled like those of a little barbarian boy who’s just received his first battle ax.

He grabbed Sicily’s hand and dropped down on one knee. “Oh, please, my ice flower, can I go? You’re always cursing the Tisane name. Let me destroy this castle for you. I haven’t gotten to smash anything in such a long time. Besides you, of course, but this is different.”

The ex-etiquette tutor fought to keep the flush from her cheeks. Carefully poised, she asked Millie, “If I let Ivar accompany you, your father will suffer?”

“Just his coffers, not his person.”

“Good enough.” She looked down at the barbarian staring adoringly up at her. “You may go.”

Ivar let out a whoop and launched upright to smash a kiss against her lips. He brought each of her hands up for a similarly bruising kiss against her knuckles, then collected them against his heart. “I will return rampant for you, my ice flower. You will prepare your loins for me, yes?”

Now a blush ignited across Sicily’s cheeks. “Of course,” she murmured.

“Good. Have the carpenter fix the table while I am gone. We will celebrate my victory and our reunion there first.” He plucked a cloak from the peg by the door and herded Millie and Bradley out the door. “You have weapons, yes?”

The abrupt change in topic rendered Millie almost speechless. “Many.”

“Good.” The barbarian’s stride was long and purposeful as he followed the dirt path to where the galleon was anchored on the outskirts of town. “Hurry up. It is never good to leave one’s woman unsatisfied for very long. I will expect to be returned to her in no less than three days. In that time, I would like you to teach me that trick you did with your panties so I can instruct my ice flower in the same technique. It was wildly arousing.”

Ivar busied himself in the armory, under Bradley and Sir Roger’s hawklike supervision, for the duration of the voyage to Amberly. Bradley abandoned his post only one time when they chanced across Sir Eustace and Duchess traveling through the forest.

The Komodo sped along at a blur, but his pace was so smooth that the cat had fallen asleep in his arms. When he caught sight of them soaring above the trees, he clutched the cat tight to his chest, put on a burst of speed, and shouted, “No take-backsies!”

Millie reminded him of the boon he owed them for providing the mongoose dung and eagle claws, and the ministry official abandoned his escape. Neither Dirk nor Bradley’s assistance was needed to aid the ministry official in boarding: he merely hopped straight into the air like a grasshopper, at least thirty if not forty feet, and landed on the gunwale. “Where are the captain’s quarters? My darling will not be finishing her nap upon anything less than the finest velvet.”

Thus assembled, Dirk and Bradley filled the yellow sails with wind and they made all due haste to the kingdom of tea, cattle, and grain far to the north.

CHAPTER 95

NO WEDDING FOR YOU AND ROSAMUND MIGHT BE TOO STUPID TO LIVE

It was tradition in the Amberly court for a princess to perform a tea ceremony on the day of her wedding. A kind of cocktail party, it would be held in the greenhouse as the staff and any busybody mother-in-law-to-be put the finishing touches on the decorations in the throne room. At the appointed time, in the light of the setting sun shining through the dome of stained glass and scattering rainbows across the marble floor, the nuptials would commence. A nine-course dinner and dancing would follow, naturally, and when the moon grew big and bright, the dragons would arrive and perform a courtship dance across the stars. The wedding would conclude with fireworks—a distraction for the guests and a call to the couple to sneak off and commence their private celebrations in the marriage bed.

Such were the traditions of Amberly for the last few centuries, one could almost set one’s watch to it.

The greenhouse windows were all open to let in the fresh spring air, and the light-hearted music of the string octet joined the chorus of a thousand courtier and visiting dignitaries’ voices into a noise so obnoxious, it scared away the beasts of the field and forest for three leagues in all direction.

It was bad luck that, for without the strange pockets of silence that punctuated the wild places of the world when a predator is near, how were they to know where the Leightonian troops were hiding the Skybreaker?

The Tula had arced around to approach the castle from the north where it was likely there were more friendly Amberlian guards than Leightonian ones. They would still blast the galleon out of the sky should they spy it, as no one knew Millie captained it, so Bradley cast a spell to cover it in patina, the better to camouflage it against forest or sky. An invisibility spell of this magnitude would be too costly, and there was the distinct possibility Bradley might have to become a war mage if Leighton’s court sorcerer chose violence.

Hidden, for now, the ship waited as Dirk cautiously slunk closer to the castle.

When the clock in the guardhouse tolled the hour, Dirk decided he was close enough. It was dangerous to close his eyes when there could be Leightonian archers lurking about with Damascus steel arrowheads, but he had to concentrate. So his eyelids fluttered shut, and he called upon his luck.

White ripples of light radiated down his scales and off his body, rolling away like smoke rings. Dozens upon dozens of these luck rings permeated the forests and meadows and creeks surrounding the castle.

Soon, the evening creatures began to sing. The crickets chirped and the frogs croaked and moths fluttered. Their song rose from everywhere, except for the thicket overlooking the water on the southwest side of the castle. There, no insect could be compelled to sing, nor frog.

Dirk hurried back to his friends aboard the Tula to divulge his findings.

Ivar checked the plethora of weapons dripping from the various leather straps crossing his muscled body and decided the tiny gap between the morning star and the double-headed battle-axe could use a hunting knife.

“Remember, Ivar,” Millie pressed. “You and Duncan must destroy the Skybreaker first, then you can attack the castle.”