Page 42 of Carnal: The Beast Who Loved Me

Rosie realized then that she hadn’t seen much evidence of creativity in the culture. There were some Exiled who played acoustic instruments in the Commons at times and there were the beautiful fabrics woven on the looms.

“Did you trade for the shawls or did you make them yourselves?”

“We knit them ourselves.”

“The patterns that you use, none of them are the same, and that’s a kind of art. Writing books is just a different art.”

Serene looked at Free, who shrugged.

“I’d like to see all the books Kellareal brought for use in school. If I could.”

Serene nodded. “I’ll assemble the books, one of each, and have them ready, probably day after tomorrow.”

“It would be even better if you could have someone bring them to the Commons. Afternoons are usually slow enough that I could spend time going through the books and still be at the bar in case I’m needed.” She chuckled. “Dandy calls it my ‘post’ and is very persnickety about someone being there at all times.”

“Persnickety,” Charming repeated.

Smiling like she was pleased with the way things were going, Serene said, “Excellent. I’ll have them delivered to you day after tomorrow. Around two?”

“Whenever it’s convenient. I’ve usually wrapped up the chores by two-thirty.”

“Two-thirty it is then.”

When dinner was over, Rosie put her foot on the first tread of the stairs to start toward her room, but Charming stopped her by putting his hand on hers where it rested on the baluster. “I was an ass at dinner.”

Rosie nodded. “Kind of.”

Charming gave her his signature smile. “Come over to the Commons and have an ale with me tonight. Magic is playing fiddle. It’ll be fun.” She hesitated, looking upward toward her room, where she’d stowed a book written in a language foreign to Exiled. “Come on.”

It wasn’t exactly pleading, but it was sincere.

“Okay.” She grinned.

The warmth had given way to another cold front just in time to put the new construction to the test. They’d finished at the end of the day and Rosie was looking forward to seeing if it helped. Charming opened the north porch door for her. “Look at this. Pretty nice, huh?”

“Yep,” was all she said.

It was warm in the bar and crowded. Lots of people had turned out to hear the music, which consisted of a fiddle, a drum, and an instrument that looked like a hammered dulcimer.

“Hey. There’s Tag,” Charming said. “Let’s go sit with them.”

“Okay.”

Charming led her to a table near the fire where his friends, Tag, Fray, and Gaunt were sitting. They grabbed a spare chair to make five and rearranged the seating so that Rosie could see the musicians, while Charming went to the bar for two mugs of ale.

When he returned and set the mug in front of Rosie, she chuckled, saying, “It’s strange to be here and be served.”

Charming leaned over and said, “You deserve it. And you don’t deserve the way I acted at dinner.”

“Forget it. I have.”

He smiled.

Rosie turned her attention to the music. It was fun, lively, and everyone in the room was having a good time. When the music stopped, the fiddle player whom Charming had called Magic, said, “Who wants to sing?”

Within seconds the crowd was chanting, “Charming! Charming! Charming!”

Charming smiled. He leaned toward Rosie. “Back in a minute.”

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