Dangerous Thoughts

Chapter 9

Charles didn't want to spend all afternoon keeping an eye on Lillian, but he refused to leave her alone with Juliette. Although he knew Juliette was a very capable child, this thief was wily, and he would never be able to forgive himself if something happened to the small battle mage. 

Unfortunately—and much to Charles' horror—Juliette seemed to have developed a sort of strange affection towards the thief, treating her more like an older sister than a potential assassin. She led her on a tour of the house, first pointing out everyone's bedrooms and then bringing her into the small reading room on the second level. She plucked several books off the shelves—which she made Charles carry as if he were her pack mule—and then took everyone downstairs to explore the parlor, kitchen, dining room, and the small back garden where the plants James tended overgrew their pots and fought each other for sunlight.

"And the last spot is Charles' office," Juliette said, pointing to the door tucked under the stairs. "It's so cool. He has a collection of memories in there, and a scrying glass..."

Charles saw the thief's eyes lingering on the door and he made a mental note to seal it against intruders.

"Let's take a break and read!" Juliette announced suddenly, dragging the thief into the parlor.

When they walked into the room, they found James on his hands and knees, scrubbing at the soot marking the floor.

"How's it going?" Juliette announced, plopping down on the settee.

"It's almost gone, thank goodness," James said. He looked up and grinned. "Everyone making friends, I see?"

Charles rolled his eyes. Lillian didn't say a word. Juliette was the only one who said, "Of course!"

The ten-year-old then gestured impatiently at Charles. "Let me see those books."

Charles obliged, passing her the stack, which she rifled through quickly. She finally settled on a volume to give to Lillian.

"Here. Read this one. I think you'll like it. There's adventure and a pirate and... well, I don't want to give it away."

"Thanks," Lillian said. She took the book carefully and opened it to the first page.

"I'll step out," James said, gathering his cleaning supplies. "I need to start on dinner. Give me a call if you need anything—I'll be in the kitchen. Have fun you three!"

Charles wanted to beg his brother to stay, but James disappeared quickly, leaving Charles to his babysitting.

Charles sat awkwardly in an armchair, watching the two of them read—or perhaps pretend to read. While it was becoming more common for women to read, not many people he had met during his short time on the streets were literate, and so he initially assumed Lillian was simply appeasing Juliette by accepting the book she had offered her.

But after an hour of watching Lillian's eyes scan the text and her long fingers flip through pages, he decided that she could, in fact, read—which made him all the more curious about her.

"Where did you say you were from again?" he asked.

But of course, she didn't answer him. She never did.

Dinner was an awkward affair as well. To appease Charles' demands to limit the number of knives around their new guest, James had decided to make a stew. Typically James would pour each serving in the kitchen and then carry the bowls to the dining room. But as he was clearly vying for Lillian's trust, he brought the large pot into the dining room and poured each serving in a grand display that Charles knew was for Lillian's benefit. Still, the thief was apprehensive, watching everyone else dive into their meal and leaving her soup untouched.