Page 34 of The Discount Damsel

Millie didn’t protest, didn’t glare up at him, didn’t sulk, didn’t do anything but obey. She grimaced once at the strangeness of the taste but continued to sip. This was a humbling lesson, and she wouldn’t embarrass herself further by being petulant.

Once Bradley was confident she would drink it down and not throw it over her shoulder while he wasn’t looking, he raided the cupboards and returned with a sleeve of saltines, some cheese, and a jar of roasted nuts.

“I suppose it is time for afternoon tea,” she agreed, “though I’m more partial to sweets than charcuterie. But if cheese and crackers are the order of the day . . . I don’t suppose there’s any summer sausage?”

Bradley snapped his fingers to steal her attention out from under the saltines where no summer sausage lay hidden beneath, then signed to both her and the dragon, “The desert is just like the sea—it steals more than just moisture. You need to drink far more often and have salty drinks or snacks just as frequently, or you’ll collapse again. Take breaks. Nap, even. The environmental wards only exist in the workroom, though the kitchen is partially protected due to its proximity. Everywhere else is subject to intense heat during the day and extreme cold at night.”

He shoved a cracker into his mouth to replenish his own salt and energy stores, then signed, “What were you doing anyway?”

“Exploring.”

Even if they weren’t at war, Millie didn’t owe him more than that. What she did with her time was her business, not his. He’d made it clear to her that he wanted nothing to do with her, even after she’d tried to befriend him upon multiple occasions. And she refused to find him intriguing, so the less she conversed with him, the better.

“That’s it?” Bradley’s brow furrowed.

He’d just risked his own life and limb hauling her up one hundred plus steps in the smoldering heat of the tower, not to mention he’d just taught her the basics of survival in the desert, and all he got was a one-word explanation? Where was the gushing motormouth of the morning? This cold shoulder was because he’d accused her of exploiting Dirk, wasn’t it?

Did he even care?

“Uh-huh,” she chirped.

Standing, she finished her orange drink, guzzled another cupful, and set the empty teacup beside the sink. With a loud tsk, Bradley snatched it up and roughly set it in the sink to get clean.

“Hey,” Dirk protested in a soft voice, “that’s my cup. Master Excelsior gave it to me special to remind me of home. Be careful.”

The two humans faced off, Millie with disdain and Bradley with a glower, each blaming the other for precipitating the event that had offended the little dragon. Millie didn’t claim defeat, but she did break her gaze first so she could bundle the charcuterie up in a cloth napkin. After retrieving her wayward stockings, she left a drip trail from her sodden clothes on her way to the stairwell.

She turned at the archway and curtsied. “Thank you for your assistance, Master Dirk, but I think I’ll rest for a while. Can we continue exploring tomorrow?”

The baby dragon truly could count himself blessed to have kidnapped a princess such as Mildred Angelique Tisane. Reasonable, personable, and not a hysteric to be had. He knew from the horror stories told by the court sorcerers when they returned for the equinox and solstice soirees that not all princesses were like the one he’d been hired to abduct. Had he not been recovering from the fear of almost losing her, he might’ve wondered why someone like that mercenary had wanted her kidnapped to begin with.

“I’d like that.”

“And would you be a dear and remind that sorcerer apprentice that the sooner he apologies to me, the sooner we might make some progress on his curse, and the sooner you will be protected without the aid of rice paper spells?”

Dirk cast a glance at Bradley, wondering why the princess wasn’t addressing him directly even though he stood not three paces from her. “Uh, sure.”

“Wonderful.” Her cool gaze flicked to Bradley. “Sir.” Her bare feet carried her away without another word.

Bradley’s lip twitched as he suppressed the instinct to fling a scathing retort after her. Sir. Only a princess could impart that much disdain in such a tiny word. Only a princess would dare tell a sorcerer his own business.

He hadn’t forgotten about the rice paper; he had just chosen to do nothing about it. The sooner Dirk realized he was no match for the Heroes, the sooner he would give up this ridiculous notion of becoming a Great Red, and the sooner he would have no choice but to surrender the princess if he wanted to keep his head firmly affixed to his shoulders. The problem would solve itself in a matter of days, and then everything would be like it was before this Major Inconvenience had interrupted them.

Bradley stalked out onto the landing for the opportunity to repay the princess’s belittlement with gloating when her shaky legs inevitably caused her to stumble on the stairs. However, each step she took was measured. She gripped the guide rope with one hand, carefully navigated around any hermit crabs. When her knees began to wobble, she stopped and leaned against the wall.

As if sensing him watching her, the princess glanced over her shoulder. Bradley crossed his arms over his chest and continued his unabashed stare. Her mouth puckered in a sour expression, and the apprentice suddenly felt a phantom touch of her lips against that spot on his neck. Heat rushed straight for his toes.

Bradley dropped his arms, scrubbed his sleeve against that traitorous spot on his neck, and stormed for the safety of the workroom.

CHAPTER 15

HOT YOGA, NO JUICY BITS, AND A DREADFUL IDEA

Dirk hovered in the stairwell, head swinging from left to right, watching Bradley and Millie retreat in opposite directions. He had an obligation to his princess, but he also had a duty to his best friend. Perhaps this was the very reason all the Great Reds housed their princesses in abandoned towers—they didn’t need to split their time or their allegiances. One dragon, one princess, one purpose. One Dirk, two friends, three vastly different goals.

As he hovered, undecided, there was a gentle click below him. At first he thought it was the sound of a hermit crab’s shell against stone, but when he looked, a blue scale glittered up at him.

Egad!