Page 26

TODAY HE FELT like Ama rather than Casmir.

Ama couldn’t have said why, only that here in the luxury of Karl’s house he didn’t have to stuff himself back into the veneer of Casmir on days when being Ama felt more natural.

Karl completely understood and somehow never mixed up which name Ama was using at any given moment.

He could see through Ama that clearly, could read him like no one else ever could before.

This was clearly paradise, and Ama was loving every single second of it. Or, at least, he should be.

He rolled out of bed and stretched, lifting his arms over his head and lacing his fingers together to loosen his shoulders and back. He dropped his arms back to his sides and let out a contented sigh as he headed to his dressing room to find clothing for the day.

Casmir liked the fancier clothes with bright colors and intricate embroidery.

Ama preferred subdued colors in simpler designs, closer to what common people wore throughout the city and certainly not appropriate for a prince to be wearing.

He chose simple brown pants and a deep blue shirt, no vests, jackets, or any other accoutrements needed and discarded his sleeping clothes into the basket for the servants to take care of before getting dressed.

The entire time, that closed door leading between his room and Karl’s taunted him.

Ama’s life here in Karl’s house was so very close to being perfect. All he was missing was that one last thing—the one thing his heart yearned for, yet he didn’t dare reach out to take. He wanted Karl.

He wanted Karl’s body, of course. The man was gorgeous, his smile infectious, and he was deadly with his knives.

But Ama also desperately wanted Karl’s heart too.

He wanted Karl to return his affections, which didn’t seem possible.

Karl was so busy figuring out how to be a baron.

Learning all his new responsibilities, his new status, and what all that meant in the larger picture of his life was so completely overwhelming for him that Ama didn’t dare intrude with the inconvenience of sharing his feelings.

Instead, Ama did what he could to support Karl from the shadows, exactly how he’d lived his life to this point.

The guards all around the house might be supplied by Braxton, but Ama was the one in charge of security.

He did placements and rosters, installed the sniper’s nest on the roof and the tactical positions hidden in the street outside.

Karl needed to bake. Not just as a way to relieve stress, but also because it was simply a part of him.

He needed dough between his fingers and flour in his hair the way Ama needed the reassurance of the press of the knife sheathed against his lower back.

Ama did everything he could to ensure Karl could go to that bakery every morning and had more plans in place to help Karl fit in even more baking if possible.

Ama left his room and headed downstairs, going to the kitchen so he could grab something to eat while he waited for Karl to return.

The sunlight was a bare glimmer on the horizon, still a good hour or so off from actually rising, but the morning birds were out in force, chirping loudly out in the garden where the new gardeners were already hard at work doing what they could to beat back the overgrowth and return the gardens to any sort of splendor.

Karl said when he last visited this house—sneaking in through the back—the gardens hadn’t been overgrown, but they hadn’t been pretty either.

Ama was fairly certain the gardeners wouldn’t rest until Karl had the nicest yard in the city.

One of the street urchins had taken to gardening, and he was out there toiling away, looking incredibly happy.

One of the other boys had taken Braxton’s offer and joined the army.

The girl had chosen to become a maid here.

And the leader was shaping up to be a fine butler.

All three who had chosen to stay were also learning some other lessons from Ama, ones where they could put their street thug ways to better use should the need arise.

The gardening shed was back to being used for its original purpose, at least.

Ama shook his head and left the window, continuing his trek to the kitchen.

In most nobles’ houses a parlor or smoking room was the center of their household, and any business was conducted in an office.

That wouldn’t work for Karl. They had an engineer coming by tomorrow to assess the wall separating the kitchen from the storeroom on the other side.

Ama hoped they could remove the wall entirely, thereby expanding the kitchen and adding a proper baker’s area as well as a formal desk.

Sometime in the future, Karl would be receiving callers down here, wearing an apron and covered in flour, so he needed a desk.

Plus, he could make something and while he was waiting for it to rise or to bake, he could sit at his desk and complete his work as a baron at the same time.

Ama wanted to make being baron as easy for Karl as possible, so he was going to press that engineer hard to find a solution that made that wall disappear.

Plus, they weren’t going to lose storage space as the dungeon was only one flight down from the wine cellar.

Karl had ordered it be used for storage instead, after it was thoroughly scrubbed.

Ama hadn’t known nobles’ houses came with dungeons and couldn’t fathom why it had been installed in the first place, but he had gotten the story about how Karl knew about said dungeon, so had a good idea of what it was used for.

Now, it would be used to store flour and sugar instead.

“Hey, Will. Hey, Leslie,” Ama called as he walked into the kitchen and saw Leslie was already busy at the stove and Will was halfway through a plate of eggs and toast.

“Master Ama,” Leslie and Will replied, Will slurring through a mouthful of food.

“How are you this morning?” Leslie asked after giving Will a dark look. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Whatever you’re making will be delicious, I’m sure,” Ama replied, settling onto the kitchen stool next to Will. “Anything I should know about for today?”

“Nothing unusual,” Leslie replied, plating eggs for him as she spoke.

“I’m expecting the normal courier from the palace with today’s work for Master Karl any minute, and the shipment of baking equipment is supposed to arrive today at some point too.

As soon as Master Karl returns from the bakery, I’m sure there will be far too much work for him again. ”

“He must really love baking,” Will said. He was using his toast to push more eggs onto his fork, ignoring the knife at his place setting.

Shan laughed as he walked into the room.

He didn’t handle breakfast for the household.

He and Leslie worked lunch together, and then he took over the kitchen for dinner while she rested.

Lyric would still be asleep for at least another couple hours, but that didn’t stop Shan from coming down most mornings to have breakfast with everyone else.

“He and I are Musens. You have to have cooking coursing through your veins to be a Musen, you know. Char wouldn’t have been allowed to adopt us into the family if we didn’t.

From what I understand, at least. From living with Char for so long, I can tell you Karl’s pretty normal in comparison to the rest of the Musen clan. ”

Ama would have read some negative subtext about Shan talking about himself, if he didn’t know Shan was just as nuts about cooking and quite happy with running Karl’s kitchen. Instead he tucked into the plate of food Leslie delivered.

“I’m just glad someone’s using that old bakery where Master Karl goes every morning,” Leslie said as she returned to the stove to start plating Shan’s portion. “Since the old lady who owned it died six months back, the place has been sitting empty. Kind of sad, really.”

“Empty?” Ama said, slowly lowering his fork to place it on the table, worry starting to churn in his gut. “What do you mean, empty?”

“Yeah, who’s the old lady we got hired to rough up then?” Will added, looking confused.

Hired by someone Braxton hadn’t been able to track down, Ama added, mentally connecting some dots as panic began to set in.

Ama tried to keep himself calm by telling himself Karl had been going to that bakery every morning for the last week by himself with no issues.

There was no reason to believe today would be any different.

But, if Ama were trying to lay a trap designed to capture Karl, putting an old lady in trouble and a failing bakery in Karl’s path was exactly what Ama would have done.

Since a week had gone by, Ama hoped the enemy were still setting up their plot; there could still be time to save Karl.

Or, they were waiting for another chance to grab both Karl and Ama at the same time.

They knew Ama had joined Karl at the bakery once, when they were still laying the foundation of their trap, so maybe they were waiting for Ama to appear again?

“We have to go get him!” Shan gasped, standing so quickly his stool went tumbling back. “We should gather the guards and storm the building!”

“I’ll grab everyone!” Will added, sending his own stool flying as he headed for the door.

Ama reached out and grabbed Will by the shoulder, holding his other hand up to stop Shan.

“Wait. Wait,” Ama said slowly as his thoughts solidified.

“This is definitely a trap, most likely laid by Yaroi to punish us all. Lyric is here, and if Karl escapes he’ll run here, so we have to defend this as our base.

Shan, I need you and Lyric stationed here with most of the guards.

I’ll take some of the hidden guards with me, so this place will still look fully defended.

Will, I need you to get to the palace and alert Prince Braxton and get us some more backup. ”

Ama looked around the room, catching everyone’s eyes. “Let’s go.”

Everyone scattered, Ama checking all his weapons were in place, desperately hoping he would make it in time.