to get us to this crazy castle everyone’s so up in arms over?”
Now his eyes narrowed in her direction. Gone was the cheerful Jon Doe of this afternoon, replaced with a scowling—albeit, damn him, still super-hot—annoyed Jon.
“What is this nonsense you speak? I’m no cruise director, whatever that is. I’m a stable owner.”
Toni rolled her eyes as she rose, tugging Carl’s reins. “Never mind, Lancelot. We clearly have an issue with our land-to-land connections. It’s just a figure of speech, sort of. Forget it. I’m suddenly tired. Good night, Jon.”
He rose like the gentleman he was as she swept off, the rustle of her skirt crisp in her ears. She crunched her way awkwardly to the tent, pulling Carl in with her then dropping down on the nest of blankets.
As Carl settled against her, Toni stretched her feet, her mind racing at warp speed with questions and worries.
But one thing was for sure, no one needed to know about her family, alive or dead, or why she was hiding away in an outlet mall in Jersey.
Because it wasn’t just dangerous for her to tell someone her pathetic plight—it was just as dangerous for anyone else to have the information.
* * * *
“Aye, ye’ve done it now, lad,” Dannan said on an amused chuckle, his small voice taunting as Jon leaned against a large tree and whittled a stick.
“Done what?”
“Ye’ve angered the saucy maiden. My guess is ye didn’t wish to do such.”
No. He had not wished to do such. He found Toni intoxicating, beautiful with her hair the color of the sunset, brave, intriguing with her coffee and her talk of this land called Jersey.
He wanted to absorb everything about her, learn from her, discover her depths. She was nothing like the maidens here in Shamalot. But she was as prickly as the sugared pears his mother grew in her garden. Yet he knew not why.
He tightened his jaw, clenching his teeth. “I asked a simple question. A simple answer was all that was needed.”
Dannan sighed, the breath whistling from his lungs as he crossed his arms over his massive chest. “If only lasses were simple creatures. But alas, they are not. They are complex, and opinionated, and infuriating as only lasses can be.”
“But she is surely easy on the eye, aye?” he said on an ironic chuckle.
“Indeed she is. That is the crux of the problem. Temptresses they all be. If only they could tempt with their mouths closed.”
Jon laughed, slipping his knife into his boot. “I don’t mind the chatter as long as it’s about anything other than their gowns or the dramatic choice of whether to serve marbled bread or rye at their next tea. There need be substance to the conversation.”
“And milady Toni is anything but mindless,” Dannan agreed. “She was quite fierce on the back of the queen’s minion, was she not, lad? How do ye account for such bravery from a maiden who claims she’s nothing more than a shop girl?”
Jon heard the respect in his friend’s voice. True, Toni hadn’t made a single complaint as they’d trudged through ankle-deep snow—none of them had. But what she’d done with that dragon went beyond bravery.
‘Twas damn foolhardy. Yet, how had she known to break his wing? Instincts like that didn’t come from selling gowns—or “leggings”, as he’d heard her call them.
Something was afoot. Something he didn’t have figured out.
“I don’t know, friend. But she’s dangerous to us if she has no plan when she goes into battle.”
“Aye,” Dannan said on a nod of his blue head.
“And she hides something from her land—something personal and quite possibly painful. I cannot pinpoint what.”
“As do ye, Jon Doe,” Dannan all too easily reminded him.
His jaw tightened again, but then he relaxed. He wasn’t in any immediate danger from the queen or anyone else. Toni was. “But I’m not the one in need here, ogre. Toni is.”
“Oh, lad. Ye need far more than ye think. But for the moment, this is neither here nor
Now his eyes narrowed in her direction. Gone was the cheerful Jon Doe of this afternoon, replaced with a scowling—albeit, damn him, still super-hot—annoyed Jon.
“What is this nonsense you speak? I’m no cruise director, whatever that is. I’m a stable owner.”
Toni rolled her eyes as she rose, tugging Carl’s reins. “Never mind, Lancelot. We clearly have an issue with our land-to-land connections. It’s just a figure of speech, sort of. Forget it. I’m suddenly tired. Good night, Jon.”
He rose like the gentleman he was as she swept off, the rustle of her skirt crisp in her ears. She crunched her way awkwardly to the tent, pulling Carl in with her then dropping down on the nest of blankets.
As Carl settled against her, Toni stretched her feet, her mind racing at warp speed with questions and worries.
But one thing was for sure, no one needed to know about her family, alive or dead, or why she was hiding away in an outlet mall in Jersey.
Because it wasn’t just dangerous for her to tell someone her pathetic plight—it was just as dangerous for anyone else to have the information.
* * * *
“Aye, ye’ve done it now, lad,” Dannan said on an amused chuckle, his small voice taunting as Jon leaned against a large tree and whittled a stick.
“Done what?”
“Ye’ve angered the saucy maiden. My guess is ye didn’t wish to do such.”
No. He had not wished to do such. He found Toni intoxicating, beautiful with her hair the color of the sunset, brave, intriguing with her coffee and her talk of this land called Jersey.
He wanted to absorb everything about her, learn from her, discover her depths. She was nothing like the maidens here in Shamalot. But she was as prickly as the sugared pears his mother grew in her garden. Yet he knew not why.
He tightened his jaw, clenching his teeth. “I asked a simple question. A simple answer was all that was needed.”
Dannan sighed, the breath whistling from his lungs as he crossed his arms over his massive chest. “If only lasses were simple creatures. But alas, they are not. They are complex, and opinionated, and infuriating as only lasses can be.”
“But she is surely easy on the eye, aye?” he said on an ironic chuckle.
“Indeed she is. That is the crux of the problem. Temptresses they all be. If only they could tempt with their mouths closed.”
Jon laughed, slipping his knife into his boot. “I don’t mind the chatter as long as it’s about anything other than their gowns or the dramatic choice of whether to serve marbled bread or rye at their next tea. There need be substance to the conversation.”
“And milady Toni is anything but mindless,” Dannan agreed. “She was quite fierce on the back of the queen’s minion, was she not, lad? How do ye account for such bravery from a maiden who claims she’s nothing more than a shop girl?”
Jon heard the respect in his friend’s voice. True, Toni hadn’t made a single complaint as they’d trudged through ankle-deep snow—none of them had. But what she’d done with that dragon went beyond bravery.
‘Twas damn foolhardy. Yet, how had she known to break his wing? Instincts like that didn’t come from selling gowns—or “leggings”, as he’d heard her call them.
Something was afoot. Something he didn’t have figured out.
“I don’t know, friend. But she’s dangerous to us if she has no plan when she goes into battle.”
“Aye,” Dannan said on a nod of his blue head.
“And she hides something from her land—something personal and quite possibly painful. I cannot pinpoint what.”
“As do ye, Jon Doe,” Dannan all too easily reminded him.
His jaw tightened again, but then he relaxed. He wasn’t in any immediate danger from the queen or anyone else. Toni was. “But I’m not the one in need here, ogre. Toni is.”
“Oh, lad. Ye need far more than ye think. But for the moment, this is neither here nor
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