Page 21 of Badmouths & Bards

“Oh, can you imagine being that rich?”

“Ha! I sure can! If I was royalty, I would also invite the best storytellers in the world to sing happy birthday to me!”

They couldn’t be talking about those clowns…

“What was their name again?”

“Ah, Cashmere Fantasy! They’re so hot! Like, smoking!”

Tala rolled her eyes. Whoever picked that name needed to get their ass beaten. It sounded as pretentious and stuck up as the two actual men were. She supposed if people were to fawn over her like that, she’d be stuck up, too.

Squaring her shoulders, Tala silently descended the stairs to the fourth floor. The hallway was long and the owner of the voices appeared to be the two maids carrying several baskets on their arms and silverware in their hands. Human, by the looks of their ears, but relatively harmless in appearance. One looked like Tala could lift her over her head with ease. The monk was ready to descend to the next floor when the smell of the breakfast baskets hit her nose.

Baked goods.

Not just any baked goods, but banana bread by the smell of it.

Tala tried to ignore it, but her stomach grumbled loudly, drawing the attention of the two maids. The smaller one blushed, as if realizing how loudly they had been talking. The other, equally nervous, but much braver, cleared her throat.

“Good morning, miss, did you need breakfast?”

“Uh… sure?”

Nodding in satisfaction, the maid walked briskly to Tala and displayed the baskets near her wrists. “We have fresh pastries with fruit or potatoes and meat. Feel free to pick whichever you like.”

“Sweet,” Tala said, pulling the basket with fresh baked goods and fruit from the maid’s left arm.

“Very good, miss. Do you need anything else?”

“This is so fucking weird,” Tala murmured under her breath. She cleared her throat, “I’m good, thanks.”

The maid nodded and turned her back on Tala. A completely normal interaction with a completely normal maid who just happened to be aware that two famous bards were going to be performing at the castle for the princess’s birthday.

It was difficult not to be a bit suspicious of people given the work the Valiant Circle did. Tala knew if Cercel had been there, he would have brushed off the encounter as completely coincidental but Tala had always been weary of strangers. Doubling her pace, Tala descended the last few floors until she reached the tavern proper.

True enough, the scent of bacon and butter was much stronger there. Though, there were only a few patrons enjoying breakfast at the moment. The kitchen staff had readied the breakfast baskets for the upper floors, and even the barmaid was dressed in an apron that matched the two maids.

Okay, just normal trust issue stuff, I guess?

Still, Tala couldn’t shake something was weird as she made her way back up the stairs. She reached into the basket as she walked back up the third floor, revealing a banana bread muffin. Tala brought it to her nose, inhaling the scent and making her stomach gurgle in desperation.

Satisfied, Tala took a large bite, chewing lazily as she scanned the hall. The lanterns were low thanks to the maids, but not a shadow moved along the hall but Tala. By the time she reached the fifth floor, Tala had demolished the entire muffin. Her stomach—still pissed from skipping dinner the night before—demanded another muffin.

Tala pulled another muffin out as she walked down the hall back toward her room. She tossed it in the air, caught it with her hand, then frowned as her gaze fell to something that definitely hadn’t been there when she left. Cautiously, Tala approached the door across from hers.

A bouquet of dark red roses had been left outside the boys’ door.

Chapter 10

Casimine

Despite Ameriden’s groggy protests, Casimine had left the bed way before the sun had risen.

Ameriden had always been a sound sleeper—ever since college. The other students used to joke that Ameriden could sleep through an earthquake… a phrase that was innocent enough, but Casimine always flinched when someone said it. It was difficult not to.

Casimine had suffered from some kind of disordered sleeping patterns since he had been a child. Sometimes he was sensitive to noise—any small crack of a door or the sound of feet moving down hallways would startle him awake. Sometimes, he could sleep through it all without a single issue.

For whatever reason, Casimine had woken early that particular morning and found himself on the lounge in the seating area. He hadn’t quite closed the door to the bedroom, allowing him to steal glances at Ameriden’s sleeping form. His wide shoulders protruded from the bed where he had wrapped his large arms around Casimine’s pillow.