Demon’s Quest (High Demon #4)(2)
Author: Connie Suttle

"Doesn’t matter now—she won’t even look at me."

"Love doesn’t turn on and off, like a faucet," Corolan patted Tory’s shoulder. "Keep that in mind and stand in front of her. She’ll notice, I promise."

"Corolan knows what he’s talking about," Wylend gave Tory a hug. "Don’t give up, child. We’ll make her smile again."

"This is good. Very good." I sipped my broth—it was seasoned perfectly. I could imagine small chopped leeks or scallions in it, with seasoned croutons added at the last moment. I said that aloud without thinking.

"And that is how I usually serve it." The cook had come to the table. Wylend had summoned him, I suppose. He was younger than I imagined and smiling at me.

"This is Radolf, who might be a very good warlock if he didn’t stay in the kitchen constantly," Wylend chuckled.

"Why is there any need to be a warlock when you can cook?" I smiled at Radolf.

"Exactly what I’ve always said." Radolf sat next to me. "I was thinking about adding noodles to this, or pasta of some sort."

"Nothing heavy," I agreed. "Something thin and light, and not too much of it. Just enough for the taste and to entice the appetite."

"Exactly," Radolf nodded.

"Is that why the soup bowls are small?" Corolan wrinkled his nose at Radolf.

"Of course. We slave over the main course—you think we want you to be full after the soup?"

"There’s a duck recipe I’ve been working on," I told Radolf. "How do you feel about allowing someone else inside your kitchen?"

"I won’t mind if I get to help."

"Don’t tire her out, son." Garek gave Radolf a look from his place at the table.

"That’s your father?" I looked from Radolf to Garek. Garek gave me a blinding smile. Both had dark hair, but the eyes, noses and chins were different.

"Yes. I disappoint him constantly," Radolf grinned back at his father.

"You do not," I elbowed Radolf gently. I was too weak to do otherwise, and I had to admit that I liked Radolf immediately. It made me wonder how old he was—I couldn’t gauge ages well in the Karathian race. Wylend was thousands of years old and still looked young—not much older than I.

"I think I tripped our exalted King more than once when I was little," Radolf declared.

"At least six times, running underfoot," Wylend gave Radolf a pointed look. "Thank goodness it was always in my private quarters."

"It would be too undignified for the formal hall," Wyatt agreed, smiling.

"Don’t laugh, I think I tripped over you a time or two as well," Wylend grinned at Wyatt. Wyatt was only a year or so older than Tory and Ry.

"How are the meetings going on Campiaa?" I asked quietly.

"Couldn’t be better—I got word from Erland before dinner," Wylend said. "The delegates who were reluctant to join were merely afraid of the Strands. Gavril has the Strands locked up at the moment—it appears they may be the first to feel the bite of justice from the Campiaan Alliance." Wylend sounded happy about that.

"And their warlocks?"

"Dead, including Nidris," Wylend said softly. "That one Gavril killed himself. Let us hope there are no others who know how to tap cores."

"I made a promise to heal the core on Thiskil," I said, looking down.

"Not until you’re much, much better," Wylend said. "Love, come here and sit between Corolan and me."

"I’ll bring her," Radolf said. "Come here, put your arms around my neck," he lifted me from my seat and carried me to Wylend. Corolan moved to the next chair down, giving me his. Wylend floated my water glass across the table. Water was the only thing Wyatt would allow me to drink. I’d already had my broth. The servants brought out the next course and Wylend sneaked a bite or two of his fowl to me, which was very good. Wyatt pretended not to notice. And when I nearly fell asleep at the table, Corolan tucked me against his side and let me close my eyes.

"Reah, we go back—Teeg need us." Farzi sounded upset. As was I, when I came fully awake.

"What does he need, honey snake?" I stroked Farzi’s cheek after sitting up in bed. "Sweet man, give me a hug and a kiss before you go," I held my arms out to Nenzi. Nenzi was more than happy to give both, as was Farzi. The others came forward and got the same. Wylend had put me in a separate bedroom inside his massive suite of rooms.

I found myself wishing I could go with the reptanoids, just to spend the day with them. I wanted to be myself and feeling strong, instead of weak as I was right then. Aurelius was taking them to Teeg, then he was leaving as well. He was the last one in line for hugs and kisses. Someone would return him to his assignment—the one that had been interrupted when I was wounded. I was informed that the Larentii healed the wound I received and that was that. I hadn’t thought it possible to live over what had been fired in my direction. The Larentii truly were the strongest and most talented of healers.

"Want company?" Corolan walked into my room. He’d spent the night in Wylend’s private bedroom.

"What kind of company?" I asked, yawning. He laughed when I covered the jaw-cracking stretch of my mouth.

"The kind where I scoot you over, hold you against me and you fall asleep on my shoulder. Wylend is tending his court today, or he’d do it himself."

"Uh-huh." I was using another of Lissa’s phrases.

"Scoot." Corolan lifted and deposited me toward the middle of the large bed. He dropped his robe on the floor and, dressed only in pajama bottoms, climbed into bed with me. "See, this isn’t so bad," he pulled my head onto his shoulder. "Now, little girl, go back to sleep."

"Try this—it’s the lightest I could make," Radolf offered the bite of crepe, holding the fork out for me. I felt a tiny bit awkward—nobody had ever fed me like that before. I was sitting on the counter in his large kitchen, swinging my bare feet while he fixed something for me as a late breakfast. His staff was busily preparing lunch—I’d slept quite late while Corolan did whatever magic he’d done to keep me napping long past my normal waking time.

"What’s this?" Garek walked in and stared at my feet. I stilled them.

"No, you may move as much as you like," Garek was frowning. Pulling in a pair of socks from somewhere using his power, he proceeded to slide them onto my feet while Radolf fed me another bit of crepe. The crepe was very good.

"I’ll put sweet cream on it next time, when we’re not so worried about the diet," he said.