fond of? Any he would be remiss t’ lose?”
Nolen narrowed his eyes as he grinned. “There may have been. It was difficult to tell with him, but he hesitated with one—a pretty blonde slip of a girl.”
“Hesitated?”
“I had to tell him twice.”
Ryker nodded slowly as his lips toyed with a grin. “Tell me more, I may have use par her.”
Chapter 7
“What—is— WRONG WITH YOU ?” Gabriel exclaimed. “It’s too early for this.”
“You have a Council Meeting.” Mikelle replied, standing on his bed.
“Not for hours.” He grabbed his pillow and put it over his head. She jumped again, jostling him.
“In less than an hour. You’ve slept in again.”
He grabbed another pillow and held it over his head. She took a handful of the blankets and pulled them off him.
“I could be naked,” came his muffled retort.
“I’m not sure you know what a threat is.”
He reached blindly for the blankets, and she snatched a pillow away. “I ask for so little,” he muttered.
“There’s bacon for breakfast.”
He rolled to his back, head still covered. “How much ?”
“How does one quantify bacon?”
“I won’t get up for less than five slices.”
“Then you better get up before I eat them.”
He took a fistful of the pillow and threw it in her direction. “I need a manservant to wake me like normal people. No one would wake a King this way.” He shook his mussed hair and ran two hands through it, squinting at the open curtains. “Do I have to dress myself too ?”
She laughed and hopped off the bed to search his wondrous wardrobe. She grabbed a coat trimmed in black cord and found a pair of matching high-waist trousers along with simple shirt and a vest.
He was lying back on his bed when she exited, so she threw the clothes on his stomach to make him choke.
“Why is it,” he rose, “that my clothes keep getting tighter?”
“Obviously you have put on weight.”
“No, no that is not the case. I’ll ask again, but I’ll rephrase this time since I know my tongue does not always translate through your Arconian brain. What have you done to my clothes?”
She gave him a sly smile. “My dear Gabriel, I would never do anything to your clothes, specifically the trousers.”
He snapped a finger at her and his lips screwed. “You little vixen! You’ve had them all taken in!”
She shrugged.
“I do so much,” he muttered and marched into his dressing room where she heard the whisper of clothes, “and ask for nothing but a little decency and respect now and again….”
“Your bacon is getting cold.”
“Woman! Don’t even look at it!”
He exited a minute later fully dressed, his trousers not as tight as they should have been but still snug enough to be entertaining. “You better lock your door.”
“We need to discuss how to make threats someday,” she smiled, following him into the study. He grabbed the plate of bacon strips compulsively and sat at his desk. He was halfway through the first strip when someone knocked on the door. Gabriel hung his head in defeat and called for entrance.
Afton stepped in wearing a pale lilac dress covered to the neck and a gray scarf around her shoulders. “Head Mage, I wanted to check you before your meetings.”
He waved a hand and went back to his breakfast. She stepped beside him and ran her hands over his head, down his neck, along his jaw, and held a hand against his forehead. All the while her white pattern pulsed.
“Mage Mikelle, what color are his lips?”
“It’s between the color of a rose petal reflection on new fallen snow and finely ground nutmeg.”
He stopped chewing at looked at her. Afton smirked. “Dare I ask t’ color of his skin?”
“Don’t answer that,” Gabriel snapped.
“Lamb’s wool and Shalabane sandstone.” The women tittered together.
“I need more male friends,” he muttered and went back to his bacon and reports.
Afton released his head. “Do you know where Lael is? I did not see
Nolen narrowed his eyes as he grinned. “There may have been. It was difficult to tell with him, but he hesitated with one—a pretty blonde slip of a girl.”
“Hesitated?”
“I had to tell him twice.”
Ryker nodded slowly as his lips toyed with a grin. “Tell me more, I may have use par her.”
Chapter 7
“What—is— WRONG WITH YOU ?” Gabriel exclaimed. “It’s too early for this.”
“You have a Council Meeting.” Mikelle replied, standing on his bed.
“Not for hours.” He grabbed his pillow and put it over his head. She jumped again, jostling him.
“In less than an hour. You’ve slept in again.”
He grabbed another pillow and held it over his head. She took a handful of the blankets and pulled them off him.
“I could be naked,” came his muffled retort.
“I’m not sure you know what a threat is.”
He reached blindly for the blankets, and she snatched a pillow away. “I ask for so little,” he muttered.
“There’s bacon for breakfast.”
He rolled to his back, head still covered. “How much ?”
“How does one quantify bacon?”
“I won’t get up for less than five slices.”
“Then you better get up before I eat them.”
He took a fistful of the pillow and threw it in her direction. “I need a manservant to wake me like normal people. No one would wake a King this way.” He shook his mussed hair and ran two hands through it, squinting at the open curtains. “Do I have to dress myself too ?”
She laughed and hopped off the bed to search his wondrous wardrobe. She grabbed a coat trimmed in black cord and found a pair of matching high-waist trousers along with simple shirt and a vest.
He was lying back on his bed when she exited, so she threw the clothes on his stomach to make him choke.
“Why is it,” he rose, “that my clothes keep getting tighter?”
“Obviously you have put on weight.”
“No, no that is not the case. I’ll ask again, but I’ll rephrase this time since I know my tongue does not always translate through your Arconian brain. What have you done to my clothes?”
She gave him a sly smile. “My dear Gabriel, I would never do anything to your clothes, specifically the trousers.”
He snapped a finger at her and his lips screwed. “You little vixen! You’ve had them all taken in!”
She shrugged.
“I do so much,” he muttered and marched into his dressing room where she heard the whisper of clothes, “and ask for nothing but a little decency and respect now and again….”
“Your bacon is getting cold.”
“Woman! Don’t even look at it!”
He exited a minute later fully dressed, his trousers not as tight as they should have been but still snug enough to be entertaining. “You better lock your door.”
“We need to discuss how to make threats someday,” she smiled, following him into the study. He grabbed the plate of bacon strips compulsively and sat at his desk. He was halfway through the first strip when someone knocked on the door. Gabriel hung his head in defeat and called for entrance.
Afton stepped in wearing a pale lilac dress covered to the neck and a gray scarf around her shoulders. “Head Mage, I wanted to check you before your meetings.”
He waved a hand and went back to his breakfast. She stepped beside him and ran her hands over his head, down his neck, along his jaw, and held a hand against his forehead. All the while her white pattern pulsed.
“Mage Mikelle, what color are his lips?”
“It’s between the color of a rose petal reflection on new fallen snow and finely ground nutmeg.”
He stopped chewing at looked at her. Afton smirked. “Dare I ask t’ color of his skin?”
“Don’t answer that,” Gabriel snapped.
“Lamb’s wool and Shalabane sandstone.” The women tittered together.
“I need more male friends,” he muttered and went back to his bacon and reports.
Afton released his head. “Do you know where Lael is? I did not see
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