CHAPTER 18 Very Cute

CHAPTER 18

Very Cute

Brownie

Brownie kicked herself for her insensitive questions, but Rufus just seemed so empty when he spoke about his circumstances. It was a far cry from his animated explanation recounting his community engagement plan for promoting a healthy, happy Dark Horde.

“My rooms in the Black Fortress,” Rufus said quietly, “are reserved for the commander general.”

The implications of his response were matter of fact.

“And the dungeon?”

He hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe you should ask King Keith when you get back?” Brownie took another sip of her water. “If I lived in a trial-by-combat meritocracy, I’d have a backup plan. Maybe buy a house?”

Rufus stared at her for a long moment, making Brownie feel awkward. She stumbled over a quick placating, “Or not! What do I know? I’m just a nobody bard wandering through.”

“You are not a nobody,” Rufus countered firmly. “You’re the Minstrel Bronwynn Lyriel.”

Again, heat burned her cheeks, and Brownie found herself caught by his intense golden eyes. She straightened. “You’re right. I am fabulous. But I still went too far. I’m sorry.”

“They were words I needed to hear, so thank you.” Rufus smiled and Brownie smiled, and then their food arrived.

Silence settled comfortably as they ate, both enjoying their meal. As promised, a live performance started about halfway through dinner. An elderly naga played a zither and sang soft lounge music, his voice soothing. Brownie found herself closing her eyes and truly relaxing for the first time since General Knolith had burst out of that waterfall.

“I hope you enjoyed the meal,” Mrs. Ellie came by at the end. She eyed Rufus, taking on the tone of a shameless aunt. “And do send my love to Chloe and Keith. No one visits anymore, and I didn’t get nearly enough time with any of you at the wedding.”

Brownie didn’t recall seeing the woman at the wedding, but she’d been focused on performing, and there had been a lot of magical guests.

“I will, Mrs. Ellie,” Rufus assured the preela. He paid for both meals at the front desk; Mrs. Ellie raised an eyebrow at that , but only shot them a knowing smile.

“You two have a good night.” She waved. “I’ll come visit when Feliwyn wakes up. It won’t be long now. Lovely to officially meet you, Minstrel Bronwynn.”

“Likewise,” Brownie replied as Rufus offered her his arm. She happily took it, and they wandered into the marketplace. The sun had set long ago, and lanterns illuminated the night market. It was bustling, and if anything, it was busier than during the day. Especially with the arachne.

“I am so happy I’m not afraid of spiders,” Brownie stated, watching the street full of half-spider, half-human monsters. They bartered and traded just like anyone else. Laughed the same, too.

Honestly, classifying any race that spawned in dungeons as “monsters” was not very nice. Dungeon madness only affected spawned monsters, and all of the regular people Brownie had met in the real world were perfectly lovely.

Or they were criminals. Or they were both.

Her family was very eclectic, so who was she to talk?

“Have you met many arachne?” Rufus asked. They were walking with the flow of foot traffic, and stopped to peek at stalls as they went.

“My uncle married one four years ago,” she told him. That particular older aunt-in-law lived in Peldeep. Brownie’s family had welcomed the tall and powerful spider woman into their fold with open arms. Aunt Larraina Stannard had even given up some of her silk to Brownie on St. Veralyn’s Day. She’d surprised the bard with a thin silk strap for her instrument that could survive almost anything.

Danielle sported that very strap now.

“… Is your uncle human?” he asked. “Or giant?”

“Human. My grandfather was human, and my grandmother was a storm giant. They had seven sons. Three humans, three storm giants, and my father, who is half giant and the youngest.” Brownie smiled. “My mother’s parents were both human from Drendil. They had seven daughters, and every single one married a nonhuman. Mom is also the youngest.”

“I thought Drendil was …” He trailed off, trying to find a delicate way to say terribly narrow-minded xenophobes .

“They are,” she stated. “That’s why most of my family moved to Peldeep.”

It made for big and confusing family reunions.

On her father’s side, her fourth uncle, Faren Stannard, had been the last to get married. She hadn’t seen them in some years, after Larraina had laid a clutch. She’d taken the two hatchlings into seclusion, and would stay there until the children could control their powers well enough to not accidentally murder anyone. Uncle Faren had gone into hiding until Larraina’s urge to kill and eat him abated. That was usually around the same time the children reached level ten and got their first title. Most children leveled up once every year naturally, but arachne hunted with their young to speed up the process.

Brownie pulled Rufus to look at a small pottery table with a variety of earthenware. Five pendant flutes with different gems set in the front caught her eye.

“Oooh, these are beautiful!” Her bardic heart melted looking over the adorable palm-size instruments. They were oval, with a circular chamber and finger holes front and back that got bigger with each note.

“Thank you, miss.” A young naga boy with lime-green hair and pink eyes smiled warmly. “Ma cast them with the essence of gladeroot, so they have a bonus to carrying sound outdoors. I have them in the three tones. Also, one for the pitch-perception races, and one that only dungeon monsters can detect.”

Rufus raised an eyebrow when Brownie picked up the pendant flute with a yellow teardrop-cut stone in the front. A soft cord necklace was attached to the top.

“That’s a lemon quartz,” the boy told her. “I used [Cleanse] on it, so feel free to try playing—though you’ll need a skill to detect the pitch.”

Brownie blew gently into the mouthpiece, her fingers playing the chorus for the song “Minstrel Fine.” She heard nothing.

Rufus, however, nodded along to the music. She smiled and handed over two silver pieces. “I’ll take this one. No need to wrap it.”

She slid the necklace over her head and tucked the pendant instrument under her dress.

“I’m impressed that you managed to hear that,” Rufus commented as they resumed their walk. “Is it a skill, or do giants have pitch perception?”

“I can’t hear it.” Brownie smiled up at her traveling companion. “I bought it because you can hear it.”

“I don’t understand.”

Brownie fiddled with a curly red lock. “We aren’t in a party, so we can’t use the communication interface. I’m always getting kidnapped or robbed or lost … I thought it would be great to have a way to contact you without anyone else knowing.”

“That was a lot of money for a one-trip convenience.” Rufus frowned.

He was right; a few silver coins could feed a family for a month .

“I also wanted it, and this gave me the perfect excuse!” Brownie was a musician … and she might have a terrible habit of collecting instruments. Of course this instrument had a purpose, so she could definitely justify buying it. Brownie lifted the oval instrument to dangle in front of her. “It’s so cute! Look at it!”

Rufus stared at the instrument, and then his eyes met hers. “Very cute.”

He didn’t look away, and every flirtatious bone in her body let her accept the attention for what it was—until Rufus broke eye contact suddenly. He took a deep breath and offered his arm to the bard.

Brownie took it.

They ambled together through the market and back to the clan house. Brownie almost, almost asked Rufus if he was interested in being more than simple traveling companions … but she hesitated.

He was her best friend’s husband’s best friend. They would be seeing each other often.

She had a hard time getting to sleep, her mind filled with a pair of golden glowing eyes.