CHAPTER 13 If He Hurt Her

CHAPTER 13

If He Hurt Her

Rufus

The naga had built many different kinds of relaxing atmospheric rooms to cool down in while going between hot springs or massages or cold pools. Some of these rooms were designed to help meditation; others were perfect for napping.

I found myself in the latter. I’d showered to wash off the heavy minerals from the hot springs, and now I was laid out in a reclining chair. The room had gentle mood lighting and one wall made out of rock salt. I’d bought a pair of red-and-white striped shorts for my transformed self, and borrowed a soft, white housecoat to relax in. After nearly a year of running around in this human form, I’d grown more comfortable with it than before.

The air was crisp, and the temperature just right to drift off to sleep.

My nap was cut short by someone approaching and a sharp knock on the door.

“Commander general?”

The yawn was unstoppable, and I stretched, one arm over my head. “Yes?”

Elder Clarissa of Clan Lamia stood outside. “General Knolith has come out of closed-door cultivation and is asking for an audience. We’ve set him up with tea in the lounge.”

That had me up. “He’s here?”

“Yes, Minstrel Bronwynn discovered him on her walk.”

“Is she alright?” I jumped to my feet, stalking to the door. Knolith made it clear that anyone who disturbed him would suffer the consequences. “ If he hurt her —”

Just before I could rip open the door, an unmistakable voice said, “I’m fine.”

Minstrel Bronwynn was standing outside with Elder Clarissa. My hand hovered over the handle .

There was only one thing I could do.

I transformed back into my beastman self, my borrowed shorts ripping as I expanded in size. I kicked them off and pulled the housecoat as tight as it could go … which still left my majestic chest hair in full view. The arms were tight enough to pinch, but I couldn’t go around with just a towel tied around my waist, so it would have to do.

I opened the door.

“You’re sure you’re alright? He didn’t attack you?” I asked.

My idol stood there in a housecoat and fluffy slippers. She was beautiful and vibrant and still wet. Her hair was wet. I needed to calm my racing heart and my swishing tail. Damn this tail!

It was simple chemistry that knocked people off their heels in high-stress situations. I was just worried about Bronwynn, and my heart was pounding and my mind racing and getting away from me because of chemistry . I’d liked her since the first time I’d watched her perform, and I was maybe a bit obsessive over her music, but I didn’t like her.

Maybe.

I was getting ahead of myself. She was here, perfectly safe.

“Well …” The minstrel eyed my chest and bursting housecoat before dragging her eyes up to meet mine. My tail stopped wagging when I heard the hesitation in her voice at my earlier question.

“Go on.” My voice was deeper than I’d planned.

“ Technically , he shot ice at me when I startled him,” she clarified, “but he missed. And then he told me to find you, so here I am.”

She shrugged, and I raised an eyebrow. “Here you are … How about we leave that pompous lizard to his tea and go put on some real clothes?”

Wandering around in nothing but a housecoat didn’t feel the same without my dungeon office, daybed, and glass of wine.

“That would be great,” Bronwynn agreed, plucking at her own housecoat. “I miss my knives.”

“Then I can escort you both to the changing rooms.” Elder Clarissa bowed.

The bard sighed. “It would’ve been nice to stay longer; I didn’t get to finish the meditation walk.”

“You’re welcome to come again,” the snake elder let Bronwynn know as she led us through a short series of hallways. “We could even arrange something if you were willing to stay a night and perform? Our general enjoys fine music with his meals.”

“I would love to. Let’s work it out the next time I’m passing through,” Bronwynn agreed.

Something about Derilla having a private performance by Bronwynn left a knot in my stomach, but it was her profession—and she was good at it .

I wondered if I needed to remind Derilla that he wasn’t allowed to eat people anymore …

“Here you are, commander general,” the naga said, dropping me off at my room and then leading Bronwynn away.

I said my farewells and went inside to get changed. I deliberately took my time, knowing Knolith was waiting for me, and Bronwynn still needed to wash up. The lizardkin could wait even longer after he’d shot ice at one of the most amazing women on the continent and then ordered her around!

As I exited my room, I found Elder Clarissa waiting to guide me.

“Did you know where General Knolith was cultivating?” I demanded, asking the question I’d been stewing on. I’d changed back into my calf-length black pants, a white shirt with laces open at the throat, a vest full of pockets, and my belt and pouch.

“We knew, but we were not expecting him to come out so soon.” Elder Clarissa shook her head. “We made a mistake.”

“I understand.” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Why is the General of the East even here ?”

“He told the master that he required a mountain for his closed-door cultivation.”

There were no mountains in the eastern bog. Rufus nodded. “Minstrel Bronwynn was in the mountains for what, an hour?”

“Yes, my lord.”

One thing I knew from her stories was that Minstrel Bronwynn always had a story. Every performance would include an interlude where she regaled the audience with some tale or other about how she’d overcome the odds to be there. Whether she was beset by thieves or had her wagon stolen or got trapped for three hours at a bridge by a troll riddle, she always had something, and each was an entertaining recount.

Now I was along for the ride, wooing wombats and dodging master cultivators, and it’d only been one day.

“Alright, I’m ready,” I said. “Lead me to Knolith.”