Chapter 6

Even after cleaning the fourth floor, the kitchen, and my temporary bedroom, the castle's messy state kept me from sleeping well. I'd been half tempted to get up in the middle of the night to keep working, but I wasn't the only creature who preferred the dark, and I wasn't sure I wanted to run into Baldric in a shadowy hallway.

Or maybe I wanted it too much.

Either way, I stayed in bed until the sun began to lighten the horizon, then got up and got ready for the day. As I performed my morning ablutions, the mirror revealed dark circles under my eyes. I could already picture Baldric's frosty disapproval.

I headed down to the kitchen to see what I could scrounge up for breakfast. I'd expected the room to be empty, so it was a surprise to find Baldric inside, wrist deep in bread dough. His sleeves were rolled up and his forearms flexed as he expertly kneaded the dough. The casual domesticity made my magic hum.

I did my very best not to stare.

I was not successful.

Baldric tipped his head toward the stove. "The kettle is hot if you'd like tea. I'll make breakfast once I'm done with this."

I forced myself to move past him. "I can cook, if you tell me what you were planning to make."

"Bacon and eggs, but I still need to let the hens out and collect the eggs." His gaze flickered down to my feet, clad in slippers meant to be worn inside or on a stone path, not in shin-deep snow. "Have a cup of tea. I'll get the eggs in a moment."

I washed my hands. "I can take over kneading for you. Are you making a loaf or rolls?" I asked as I nudged him aside—except he didn't move. Instead, we ended up pressed together, my right side against his left. The heat of his body seeped through my dress, melting and tempting in equal measure.

He turned to glower down at me, but the expression changed when he realized just how close I was. "Do you ever follow instructions?" he murmured.

"When it suits me," I told him honestly.

His head dipped toward mine, and my heart skipped a beat as anticipation tightened my belly. My eyes were just beginning to slide closed when he abruptly jerked himself back. A muscle in his jaw flexed, and his voice was a deep rasp when he said, "Make two loaves." Then he turned and fled out into the snow without even stopping to wash his hands.

Anticipation deflated into disappointment. I sighed and took my frustration out on the dough, kneading until it was smooth and taut under my palms. I shaped it into two loaves, and the familiar routine improved my mood and made my magic happy.

I set the loaves aside to rise then cleaned the kitchen. And still, Baldric didn't return. Had the chickens eaten him? I was tempted to go check, but perhaps he was avoiding me.

The thought stung, so I buried the hurt under a list of tasks I needed to accomplish today. If I could get the third floor clean, then maybe I would sleep better tonight.

I made myself a cup of tea and carried it with me up to the third floor. Once again, none of the doors were locked. Most of the rooms were guest bedrooms, slightly inferior to those on the second floor, but there were also two sitting rooms, a study, and a small library.

I'd need to save my magic for the mattresses and the library, since I didn't relish the thought of dusting all of the books by hand, so I started with manual cleaning, working from the top down.

I was knocking down cobwebs in the fifth room when the bell rang to call me down for breakfast. I guess the chickens hadn't eaten him after all. Hunger warred with petulance.

Hunger won.

I wiped the worst of the dust from my face and washed my hands, but that was as much as I was willing to do. Baldric would just have to deal with my dusty dress and cobwebby hair.

I slipped down the back stairs and emerged into a kitchen that smelled divine. My stomach growled, and Baldric's eyebrows drew together slightly. He slid another egg onto the plate he was making, then nudged it toward me. "This is for you."

Apparently, we were going to pretend he hadn't nearly kissed me, then fled like I was a living plague. Fine. I could do that.

I picked up the plate with a murmured thanks. He'd given me three eggs, two thick slices of bacon, and a generous slice of toasted bread. The loaves I'd made were still rising, so this must be from yesterday's batch.

I set the plate on the table then poured myself a cup of water. After a moment's hesitation, I poured a second cup for Baldric.

He joined me at the table with a plate that was piled even higher than mine. We ate in stilted silence.

After our previous comfortable meals, this new awkwardness was excruciating.

I cleared my throat. "Was everything okay with the chickens?"

"Yes."

He didn't add anything else, and I wasn't brave enough to ask if he'd been hiding from me. I summoned a smile. "That's good. The eggs are delicious."

Baldric made a low sound that might have been agreement.

The conversation died.

I finished my food in silence. Manners dictated that I should wait for Baldric to finish before leaving the table, but sitting in silence without even food as a distraction was too much to ask.

I stood and bobbed a shallow curtsy. "Thank you for breakfast."

His gaze flashed up to mine before dropping back to the table. "There's more if you want it. Help yourself."

"No, thank you," I murmured, already moving toward the sink. I washed my dishes, then put them in the rack to dry. I'd deal with putting them away later—much later, once he was safely somewhere else.

I retreated up the stairs and ignored the pinch of disappointment that he hadn't asked how it was going. I made it all the way to the third-floor landing before I turned and marched back down to the kitchen.

"What is wrong with you?" I demanded as soon as I reentered the room.

Baldric was still at the table, and if the question surprised him, he didn't show it. "What do you mean?"

"Earlier, you fled like I was death itself, then you hid outside with your chickens until I left the kitchen. And when I tried to make conversation, you barely spoke to me. Have you changed your mind about having a witch under your roof?"

I couldn't quite keep the hurt out of my voice, and his frown deepened into a scowl. "Of course not."

"Then what's wrong?"

"You make me want…"

He trailed off, and it was my turn to frown. "Want what?"

His eyes flashed, and his heated gaze pinned me in place. "Everything."