Page 75 of The Discount Damsel

“How,” Millie began, but the nearby cry of a predatory bird shattered everything.

Bradley’s grip tightened once again on her wrists. “You must hide. For Dirk.”

At that moment, she realized the state of her undress, and the princess darted away for some clothes, which were all heaped upon the bed or soaking up the water upon the bathroom floor.

“I’ll gladly hear your explanation for why I must hide after I procure a⁠—”

“Th-th-there’s n-n-no t-t-time!” Hells of the deep, his stutter was back.

The apprentice finished heaping the rest of her plundered items onto the bed, plucked up all four corners of the quilt, and thrust open the closet doors. With a jerk of his chin, he gestured her inside.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” the princess hissed.

Bradley shoved the bulging quilt-sack into her hands, backed it and the buck-naked princess into the closet, and closed the doors. He had to lean his whole weight against them, while the muffled protests of the squished princess berated him from inside, but soon the latches clicked into place. He locked the doors, just to be sure.

Retreating to the center of his bedroom, he stole a moment for a deep breath. Touched the tips of his fingers to his lips. He hadn’t stuttered. For just a moment, he had been his articulate, confident self. And then it had all vanished. But he’d had a moment. Was it a fluke, or a herald of what was to come?

A light thump above him scattered his excited thoughts like the sparks of a firework. That had to be the griffin landing on the balcony. He was out of time.

Bradley spun a tight circle. Was everything out of sight? Yes. Bradley shoved Small Magicks under his pillow and checked on the bathroom. Were all princesses this messy, or was Dirk’s just special that way? He tossed everything into the hamper, had to punch it all down so the lid would shut.

“Are you wrinkling my taffeta?” came a muffled shriek.

“Shhh!”

There was no time to clean the tub, but he could rinse out the sink and give the toilet a vigorous albeit brief swirl of the brush. Those tasks completed, he yanked the towel off his waist and used it to push all the water on the floor towards the backup drain beneath the tub.

“Bradley?” It was a familiar voice, feminine and authoritative, and tinged with curiosity. Or maybe suspicion. It also belonged to a woman whose time was precious and was not to be kept waiting.

“Bradley, darling, are you there?” the voice echoed through the stairwell, “Zora’s massively pregnant and I want to get her back to the aerie as soon as possible. Hello?”

The apprentice tossed the towel over the side of the tub, yanked on a spare set of underclothes and his old robe, and bolted out of his suite. Miss Penelope Shrewsbury stood on the stairs just below the workroom, her gloved hand poised on the rim of the trapdoor for balance. Her griffin, of the blue jay and snow leopard variety, peered down through the gap after her.

Bradley bobbed a hasty bow before taking the steps two at a time. “Sorry. B-b-bathroom.”

“Nature’s call must be obeyed,” Miss Penelope replied solemnly, turning around to head back into the workroom. She had to shove Zora’s inquisitive beak out of the way, and the griffin backed up with a squawk.

The apprentice followed, hoping against hope that Dirk had handled the ministry official as successfully as he had the princess, or the ruse was up, and they’d both be sent back to the College in disgrace.

CHAPTER 34

GRUNGE, HORMONES, AND GOSSIP

No sooner had the apprentice shut the trapdoor behind him than the griffin rider seized him by the shoulders and yanked him close for a familial kiss on each cheek. Miss Penelope Shrewsbury then checked those cheeks for any lipstick stains before holding him at arm’s length and beaming a smile at him. “So good to see you again, darling. Have you been eating well?”

He nodded.

“Bowel movements and urination all standard and regular?”

Months ago, when she’d first asked him that question, he had flushed vermillion in embarrassment, but now he answered her with one of his well-practiced eye rolls.

“Good, good. Now flex.” She tested his biceps and nodded approvingly. “No muscle atrophy. Excellent. Let’s see your eyes.”

Miss Penelope also inspected his teeth, his fingernails, checked his pulse, had him remove his boots and socks so she could verify no fungus or gangrene had taken root there and that he was maintaining the bare minimum of hygiene expected of sorcerers and their apprentices.

She teased a few of his black curls with her fingers. “Would you like me to trim your hair while I’m here?”

Normally he would agree, but the more Miss Penelope lingered, the chances increased of her discovering the princess, the hedge knight, and the ministry official. He shook his head.