give you more assignments if you have time to do this,” he commented as Ceony peeked into the oven to check on the poultry. “I don’t think this house has smelled this good since I’ve lived in it.”
Ceony stifled a grin at the compliment and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I wanted to thank you, for everything. And apologize, for my behavior yesterday. I wasn’t quite myself.”
“This wasn’t necessary,” he said, his bright eyes curious.
“It will be done in just a minute,” she said, scuttling to the cupboards to locate the green ceramic bowl she had seen earlier. It rested on the highest shelf, so Ceony climbed onto the counter to grab it. “If you want to sit down, I set the table already.”
Mg. Thane smiled, or did something between a smirk and a smile. It touched both eyes and lips. “All right. Thank you. But then I’m assigning you reading material and giving you two hundred sheets of paper to Fold.”
Ceony dumped the pasta into the ceramic bowl and set it on the table first, then carefully transferred the chicken and roasted vegetables to a broad plate—Mg. Thane had no serving trays—and set that in front of Mg. Thane. He said nothing, but the arch of his eyebrows told her he was impressed. At least, Ceony hoped that’s what it meant. It could also have meant that the magician had been saving that chicken for something else, and noted that Ceony had cooked it without permission. If that were the case, hopefully the taste would smooth out any hard feelings.
Ceony sat on her chair on the other side of the square table, then stood up again and asked, “Do you know how to carve a bird?”
“I believe Jonto does.”
Ceony paled. She spied mirth in his eyes. Was that a joke?
Regardless, she picked up a fork and knife and sliced into the chicken herself. Gathering a few teaspoons of courage, she asked, “I was also wondering if my apprenticeship included a stipend of some sort, or a wage.”
Mg. Thane laughed—light laughter that didn’t come from the chest or the throat, but somewhere in between. “Ah, I understand. The plot thickens.”
Ceony flushed. “No, what I said earlier was sincere, really. But people should talk over dinner, especially if they’re going to live in the same house, and I thought my wages would be a good place to start, is all.”
“The school board decides your stipend,” Mg. Thane said, scooping up some tomato-basil pasta onto his plate. “So yes, you have one. I believe it’s ten pounds a month, plus anything else I decide to pay you on the side.”
Ten pounds? She focused on loading her own plate to hide her wide eyes. More than she had thought. She could send half of that home every month, should she be frugal.
She glanced back to the paper magician. “And . . . what will you pay me on the side?”
Mg. Thane held his fork loosely in his hand. “I’ll not starve you, if that’s your worry.”
Ceony considered his tuna and rice and thought to make a point on the note of starving, but she bit back her tongue and took her seat. The paper magician made no move to say grace, and she seldom did, so she cut herself a morsel of chicken, watching him from the corner of her eye.
He stabbed his fork into two pieces of pasta and raised them to his lips. He tasted them, chewing, and his eyes brightened just a bit more. “I’d say, Ceony,” he said after swallowing, “had I not been present for the lessons, I’d think you’d found a way to enchant pasta.”
Ceony smiled. “You like it?”
He nodded, scooping up another bite. “It tastes just as good as it smells. That’s a sign of a well-rounded person. I should congratulate you.”
“On my person or my pasta?”
Light danced in his eyes. He didn’t answer.
Ceony tasted her chicken, relieved it wasn’t too dry. Three bites into her own dinner, Mg. Thane said, “Oldest of four.”
“Two sisters, one brother,” Ceony replied. “Do you have a large family? You seem
Ceony stifled a grin at the compliment and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I wanted to thank you, for everything. And apologize, for my behavior yesterday. I wasn’t quite myself.”
“This wasn’t necessary,” he said, his bright eyes curious.
“It will be done in just a minute,” she said, scuttling to the cupboards to locate the green ceramic bowl she had seen earlier. It rested on the highest shelf, so Ceony climbed onto the counter to grab it. “If you want to sit down, I set the table already.”
Mg. Thane smiled, or did something between a smirk and a smile. It touched both eyes and lips. “All right. Thank you. But then I’m assigning you reading material and giving you two hundred sheets of paper to Fold.”
Ceony dumped the pasta into the ceramic bowl and set it on the table first, then carefully transferred the chicken and roasted vegetables to a broad plate—Mg. Thane had no serving trays—and set that in front of Mg. Thane. He said nothing, but the arch of his eyebrows told her he was impressed. At least, Ceony hoped that’s what it meant. It could also have meant that the magician had been saving that chicken for something else, and noted that Ceony had cooked it without permission. If that were the case, hopefully the taste would smooth out any hard feelings.
Ceony sat on her chair on the other side of the square table, then stood up again and asked, “Do you know how to carve a bird?”
“I believe Jonto does.”
Ceony paled. She spied mirth in his eyes. Was that a joke?
Regardless, she picked up a fork and knife and sliced into the chicken herself. Gathering a few teaspoons of courage, she asked, “I was also wondering if my apprenticeship included a stipend of some sort, or a wage.”
Mg. Thane laughed—light laughter that didn’t come from the chest or the throat, but somewhere in between. “Ah, I understand. The plot thickens.”
Ceony flushed. “No, what I said earlier was sincere, really. But people should talk over dinner, especially if they’re going to live in the same house, and I thought my wages would be a good place to start, is all.”
“The school board decides your stipend,” Mg. Thane said, scooping up some tomato-basil pasta onto his plate. “So yes, you have one. I believe it’s ten pounds a month, plus anything else I decide to pay you on the side.”
Ten pounds? She focused on loading her own plate to hide her wide eyes. More than she had thought. She could send half of that home every month, should she be frugal.
She glanced back to the paper magician. “And . . . what will you pay me on the side?”
Mg. Thane held his fork loosely in his hand. “I’ll not starve you, if that’s your worry.”
Ceony considered his tuna and rice and thought to make a point on the note of starving, but she bit back her tongue and took her seat. The paper magician made no move to say grace, and she seldom did, so she cut herself a morsel of chicken, watching him from the corner of her eye.
He stabbed his fork into two pieces of pasta and raised them to his lips. He tasted them, chewing, and his eyes brightened just a bit more. “I’d say, Ceony,” he said after swallowing, “had I not been present for the lessons, I’d think you’d found a way to enchant pasta.”
Ceony smiled. “You like it?”
He nodded, scooping up another bite. “It tastes just as good as it smells. That’s a sign of a well-rounded person. I should congratulate you.”
“On my person or my pasta?”
Light danced in his eyes. He didn’t answer.
Ceony tasted her chicken, relieved it wasn’t too dry. Three bites into her own dinner, Mg. Thane said, “Oldest of four.”
“Two sisters, one brother,” Ceony replied. “Do you have a large family? You seem
Similar Books
