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“Never.” She grinned.
He shook his head. “Eod has decided to continuously bark at me, rendering me unable to focus. I believe the dog is scolding me for leaving you locked away. Would you care to join me for dinner?”
“Dude, you could ask me to do your laundry right now, and I’d be game. I ambored to tearsin here.” Heading out of the room, she felt a weight slide off her shoulders. Smiling back at the guard, she waved goodbye. “See you later, Tim.”
Mordred let out a quiet sigh. But when he turned his back to lead her away, she couldn’t help but catch a faint smile on his features.
“I do have a request.” She jogged to catch up with him and fall in line beside him.
“You are my prisoner.”
“I know, but…It’s for your benefit too.” She lifted her hands to show the iron chain that connected her wrists. “I’d really like to change my clothes, and this stupid chain makes it impossible. I won’t ask you to take the cuffs off, but this is getting super irritating. I keep hitting myself in the face with it.”
Mordred fell silent for a long time. “When you are in your room, I will remove the chain. When you are being escorted, however, it will remain on.”
“Deal.” She smiled. That was progress. She could be happy with that.
“You are in a cheerful mood today.”
“Someone has to be.” She stuck out her tongue at him. She wasn’t sure why she was feeling so feisty. It was probably from being cooped up in a room for thirty-six hours with an antsy dog.
He chuckled. “Yes, I suppose so.” He brought her to a room that was smaller and cozier than where he usually hung out. Eod was upside down, asleep on a sofa by the wall, his legs sticking out in all directions.
A small fire blazed away in a hearth by one wall, filling the room with a wonderful warmth and smell of woodsmoke. A table that looked like it wasn’t usually set up in what looked like a reading room, sat in the middle on a carpet. It was set for two. All in all, there was only one word for it—romantic.
She blinked. “Is this a date?”
“If I knew what a ‘date’ was, perhaps I could tell you.”
“It totally is.” She smiled and hugged his metal arm. She’d hug him around the waist, but the stupid chain definitely wouldn’t go all the way around, and she’d just end up embarrassing herself.
He hummed. “I suppose this is my way of attempting to entertain you after leaving you alone for so long. I apologize. But defensive wards needed to be put in place.”
“I get it.” She rested her cheek against his armor. It was cool to the touch. “And you don’t need to apologize. This is my fault.”
“No, it is not. The demon is to blame, not you.” He turned her to face him and rested a hand on her shoulder. “You are caught in the midst of a battle that has been waging for a millennium and more. You are right to be wary of the depth of hatred between him and me. I do not fault you for your distrust, though I wish it were not so.”
She smiled faintly. “You’re a good man, Mordred.”
He snorted.
“Well, okay, you try.” Her smile bloomed.
“I will accept that.” He was smiling back down at her, though there was a twinge of sadness in it. The mirth did not reach his eyes. “Come. Dinner is growing cold.”
She was shocked the dog hadn’t eaten it while he was out of the room, but both of the plates were under those metal dome-thingies that they used to use. Cloches? She thought they might be called cloches.
He pulled out her chair for her, and she sat down. It was so damn cute, even if she was, y’know, chained up. He poured her a glass of mead. “Oh no,” she said with a playful tone of dread.
“Pace yourself.” He kissed the top of her head before taking his own seat. All it took was the lifting of the cloches and Eod snorted awake, rolling over in a tangle of long limbs. He was soon sitting beside her, head resting on her lap, already in full beg mode.
She couldn’t blame him. The food lookedamazing.It was steak and potatoes, with a side of green beans and tomatoes. “You know how to butter up a girl.”
“I…” He stared at her. “I assume that’s a metaphor…”
That cracked her up. Laughing, she put her hand on his. “Yeah. It is. I mean, unless you’re into that kind of thing, in which case we can have a talk about it, but—”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “I would rather not. I feel as though it might make a mess.” He paused. “Besides, I can think of better ways to spend our time.”
