Page 136 of Their Fairy Princess (Office Intrigue Duet 7)
“You want to go for a run?” I asked Dante when I found him sitting on a barstool drinking orange juice.
He peered over at me, evidently confused by my offer.
“Okay. Shall I rephrase?” I stated, grinning. “You and me. Run. Five minutes.”
“I would love to, Master.” His eyes briefly darted toward the hallway to my bedroom.
I waited to hear the question, but it didn’t come. I took that as a good sign. He trusted me to take care of him.
While he went to his room to get ready, I walked out on the back patio to stretch. The morning was underway, the birds chirping in the trees, a couple of bees already buzzing around a rosebush near the window. It looked no different although I wasn’t sure why I figured it should. Perhaps it was because some of the evil lurking had been eliminated. I didn’t know how or by whom, but those were questions I didn’t need answers to. The only thing that mattered to me was that Dante did not have to worry about them anymore.
The door opened behind me. Dante stepped out.
I smiled over at him, then took a step closer. Cupping his face, I pressed my lips to his gently, held it for a few seconds simply so I could satisfy myself that he was good.
When I pulled back, he not only still looked confused, now he could add dazed to the mix.
“Let’s get to it.” I motioned toward the street.
“My pleasure, Master.”
We hit the pavement at a jog. As we circled around the house via the side street, there was no longer a man stationed there, keeping an eye on the house. The others were gone as well, and Dante was as aware of his surroundings as I was. I noticed him glance over twice before he picked up his pace, a small smile on his lips.
I let him lead the way today. Keeping up with minimal effort but giving him the freedom that came with the weight being removed from his shoulders. I had every intention of discussing it with him, sharing a bit of information I’d uncovered, wanting to give him whatever closure I could, but I figured that could wait. He needed this as much as I did.
By the time we were back at the house, he was smiling, and it did something to me to see it. The storm clouds in his eyes, perhaps not completely gone, were certainly not as heavy.
“May I shower, Master?”
“Aye. I’ll start breakfast.”
I trailed him across the kitchen until he disappeared from view. Rather than take a shower of my own, I started a pot of coffee, pulled out whatever crap it was that made up those vegan eggs, snatched a couple of real ones, then went to work making scrambled egg sandwiches.
By the time Dante returned, I had the sandwiches plated, coffee poured, and was about to carry them out to the back patio.
“May I, Master?” Dante asked as he reached for them.
I smiled, took the coffee mugs, and allowed him to lead the way.
“You haven’t asked any questions,” I mentioned as he started in on his sandwich.
“I don’t have any,” he said softly, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “The guys are gone, which I take to mean all is well.”
“It is,” I assured him, sipping coffee.
His eyes lifted, met mine. “I trust you, Master. Questions aren’t necessary when you know someone’s going to take care of you.”
I reached over, squeezed his hand. “I’ll answer them if you ever have them. As best I can, anyway.”
“I know you will.”
I picked up my sandwich, took a bite, stared out at the yard. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky today. Crystal clear and blue overhead, the breeze warm. These were the days I enjoyed sitting out here, in the shade. I tended to gravitate here when we weren’t on the road. It offered peace, but until today, I hadn’t realized how much.
Once we’d cleaned our plates, Dante asked to clear the table and do the dishes. He refilled my coffee before getting to work. I was still sitting there when he returned. Rather than take a chair, he came over and knelt at my feet.
I twined my fingers in his hair, and we sat like that for a long time. No words passed between us. None necessary.
When he finally spoke, his question didn’t so much surprise me as it did make my heart ache for him.
“Master, would it be possible to find my mother?”
“I’ve already found her,” I informed him. “I thought you might want to know.”
“Where is she?”
Sliding my fingers through his hair, I stared at the pool, watching the specks of sunlight that danced across the water. “Your mother’s body was never claimed. Her mother—your grandmother—died before she was a teenager and her father died shortly after you were born. He hadn’t been well, and the alcohol abuse hadn’t helped. I made a couple of calls. Turns out one of the local churches laid her to rest in a cemetery not far from where you were born.”
