Page 15 of The Captive's Curse
Fine. I took a deep breath, and then another, letting my rapid heartbeat return to something like normal, and I said, “My point is that you’ve committed a serious criminal act upon my person, and it’s not my fault my brother won’t pay you.”
“Well, it’s a bit your fault,” Leander said, not at all helpfully.
“Does everyone here always interrupt a person all the time?” I asked. “May I go on, please? Gods. You kidnappedme, and now you’re stuck with me, and none of that’s my doing. If you want me to uphold your precious dangerous reputation, you’ll need to do more than not hang me. I want a better bedchamber. I want more appetizing meals. I’ll need a manservant, a private bathing chamber, and—”
“I could still hang you,” Enzo said. “Or actually give you nothing but bread, water, and hard labor.” He sighed, something I’d noticed he did quite a bit of—did that have something to do with me?—and added, “Lee, find Lord No One Wants to Ransom Him and It’s Fucking Obvious Why a different bedchamber and a bucket to dunk his head in while I try to think of some way to get rid of him. I’ll be somewhere else. Anywhere else.”
He strode out of the room, muttering something about being punished for his sins, and his footsteps faded away in the distance.
The rain poured down into the courtyard, a steady rushing, punctuated by the pattering of water off the eaves and the soft, occasional plink of a drop falling onto a bit of metal somewhere. It hadn’t even gone midday, and the light made it look like dusk. Gods, I wanted to go back to bed. Myownbed, not the one I’d slept in last night—or whichever slightly less depressing one Leander might find for me next.
I really was stuck here, wasn’t I? They wouldn’t let me leave, at least until Enzo thought of some way to “get rid of me” without being the laughingstock of highway robbers everywhere. Bruno didn’t want me. My own mother didn’t care enough to intervene.
Mad Lord Vincenzo’s castle, the object of so many of my speculations and dreams—and the irony of Hans having been the one to indirectly trap me here, when he himself wanted nothing more than to find this place, wasn’t lost on me. Now I had all the time in the world to explore it and learn its secrets, and the prospect left me nothing but depressed. Best case, I’dfind something interesting and finish my song, although I didn’t have my lute and I’d never be able to leave to play to a real audience anyway—
Except that Bruno had sent some of my things! Maybe, maybe…
I dived for the chest, Leander jumping out of my way as I nearly bowled him over, and fumbled the lid open with shaking hands, tossing Bruno’s crumpled letter aside.
And there, on top of a messy pile of my clothing and what looked like a few of my books, lay my lute.
“Oh, thank you,” I breathed, sinking back on my heels, nearly fainting with gratitude. I’d left home without her, planning to be back by nightfall, and anyway, I’d never have taken her out in a downpour. What if Rivina had done something to her? What if I’d never felt her strings under my fingers again? I could almost forgive Bruno for telling Enzo to go ahead and hang me, since he’d kept my worst nightmares about my lute from coming to pass. “I’d have died if he hadn’t sent it to me,” I whispered. “Thank the gods.”
“I’m glad you have what you need, anyway.” Leander picked up the discarded letter and smoothed it out. “I’ll take this. I need it for our records. Can you believe Enzo wasn’t keeping any until I started organizing his things? Anyway, you don’t want it, I wouldn’t think.”
“No more than they want me,” I said, with an attempt at humor that fell entirely, horribly flat, my bleak laugh lost in the shush of the rain.
Leander shook his head. “Don’t be like that, Lord Cyril. Was it really an honest mistake? You didn’t know who was under that costume? It doesn’t sound as if you like your cousin much.”
“I don’t,” I said honestly. And even more honestly, too miserable to mount more of a defense, I added, “It was an honest mistake, but I suppose I don’t really care that much either way. Iwas drunk and wanted what I wanted. Besides, shouldn’t she be angry with him, not me? Whether or not he knew who I was, he was still putting his cock in someone else’s mouth who wasn’t his fiancée.”
“She should be angry with him, not you. Or more than with you.” Leander shrugged. “But when are people ever logical about things like this? Maybe your brother will finally make his move, and then they’ll be so happy together they’ll ransom you and bring you home.”
“If they were happy together, they’d celebrate by paying Enzo to throw me off the battlements.” Leander chuckled, but it sounded sympathetic. I managed a watery smile. “Anyway, I don’t care. I have what I need most in this chest. Even some clean clothes. As long as I can get myself washed up before I change into them.”
“I didn’t mind loaning you mine,” Leander said, confirming my guess about his shirt—and seemingly blissfully unaware of what I’d done to it. Perhaps I’d allow him to remain that way. “But I’m glad your brother at least sent you your things. We’ll find you somewhere less cluttered to sleep. And we can do better than a bucket, all right? There is a bathtub, it’s just a matter of heating enough water. We usually grit our teeth and have a cold one.”
A bathtub. Mmm. My little moan sounded far filthier than even my dirty hair would warrant.
Leander’s eyes widened. “You should make that sound when Enzo’s here,” he said. “I’ll pay you in extra bacon at breakfast.”
When Enzo…I’d bent over and shown him my bare ass and he’d barely twitched. I doubted moaning would bother him. But bacon…
“You have a deal. And I may be able to get us both hot baths. My magic isn’t the strongest,” I admitted. “But I canusually heat bath water without catastrophic results. Water isn’t flammable, so it’s a bit more forgiving.”
“Magic! Does Enzo know you’re a mage?”
“He didn’t say anything?” He seemed to trust Leander completely.
Leander shrugged. “He tends to keep information to himself unless he has a reason to tell you,” he said. “But as long as he knows, that’s all right. He likes to keep a tight rein on everything around here. Come on, let’s go fill the tub. I’ll even let you go first.”
“I’ll heat the water twice, so you can have fresh water too,” I said magnanimously. “But help me with this chest. I don’t want to let it out of my sight.”
Leander took a handle at one end, and I grasped the other, and together we carried it out of the room, going in search of the tub. I might be unwanted by my family and my captor both, but at least I had my lute—and possibly a friend.
And a bath. Most importantly, a fucking bath.
Chapter Six
