Page 40 of The Musician and the Monster

“He outranks you, yet he wished me to call him simply Malik?” It wasn’t done. Nobles loved their titles more than the gold in their pockets, and that they all but worshiped, or so some said.

Drystan scrubbed a hand down his face. “He’s not one for manners or propriety, as you observed. Quite the opposite, really.”

It was a wonder such a reputation hadn’t preceded him there, though perhaps not since Teneboure was so out of favor with the nobility. She wiggled in the chair. “And you said you are not on good terms, so why is he here?”

“To keep an eye on me and make sure I do not step out of line.”

Another answer that fueled more questions. “What does he think you may do?”

“Ceridwen…”

Her lips thinned as she stared him down. She’d been pulled into this mess, intentionally or not. The least he could do was explain it a bit.

Weary eyes bored into hers as he sat heavily and stared at her across the open space. “The king does not trust me.”

Her mouth gaped in silent exclamation. That, she had not expected.

“Sending me here was a test, a show of goodwill, but one mistake, and I will lose what little favor I have curried. So Malik comes, and he watches, and he reports back to the capital.”

No wonder Drystan never wanted guests in the manor or ventured out into local society. Ceridwen hugged her arms around herself despite the rising warmth of the new fire. In a heartbeat, he could lose it all. One wrong step. One bad report. And it all depended on Malik. She never wanted to see that man again, yet it seemed she had little choice in the matter.

“Are all your relatives so repulsive? Will more of them visit?”

Drystan’s countenance darkened. “Possibly worse, though they will not visit here.”

Worse? How could they possibly be worse? Especially someone of noble blood. She picked at the sleeves of her dress.

“In any case, you should rest if you can,” he continued. “Tomorrow may be a long day.”

“I haven’t played.” Though, deep in her heart, she didn’t want to. The day had rattled the song from her fingers and stripped it from her heart.

“Play for me tomorrow.” His shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world pressed down upon him and only her songs gave him strength. How could someone so young have so many burdens? A noble alone at the edge of thekingdom was a lonely one indeed.

“You’re exhausted.” The thought slipped from her like water between her fingers.

“Sleep does not come easily for me, especially when I keep the monster at bay.”

With a real monster of a man in the house, she’d almost forgotten. “Is it safe tonight? Will it come too?” She couldn’t handle another demon in the same night.

“Not tonight, I don’t think. We should be fine.”

She should have asked more, but the certainty in his voice brokered no questions. Drystan rose to his feet, and Ceridwen feared he prepared to leave her alone.

“Wait.” She held up a hand. “Malik won’t come in here, will he?”

The hint of a smile pulled at his lips. “I’d thought to sleep in here.”

She gaped.

“Or I could put up a magical ward.”

Magic. The word hung between them. He pursed his lips, gaze darting, as if he were a young child waiting for a reprimand. “I could sleep in the hall if you’d rather me not stay here or use magic to protect your room. Though,” he drawled, “that doesn’t protect the balcony or the windows. And truthfully, I’d prefer not to sleep on the floor.”

“Not the hall, then.” She shook her head. A noble on the floor—impossible.

“So what shall it be? Magic or the sofa?” he asked.

Blood or impropriety. Such choices. Heat flooded her cheeks as she debated the answer. “Whichever you prefer,” she said at last.

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