Adair clears her throat, then sings with a warbling old-lady voice:

Who will worship the Scala Adair?

All the thrax if given the time

My powers are great, my face is so fair

Who won’t want the love that is mine?

She stares directly at Lincoln’s face when she sings the ‘love that is mine’ part. His features subtly twist into a ‘yikes’ face, a movement that makes him raise his eyes. He sees me and winks.

Warmth blooms through my chest; a smile curls my lips. Lincoln’s way different than I thought. Funny, handsome, sexy, and—let’s not forget my favorite attribute—able to hold his own and compete with me. Part of me wonders if I’m going too far, too fast, feeling things for a guy who I thought was a major jerk only a few days ago. Good thing another part of me takes the worrying part out back and kicks the shit out of it.

The lute player strums another few bars, then Adair sings again.

My powers are great, my face is so fair

Who won’t want the love that is miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine?

Lincoln glances in my direction and mouths the words ‘no way.’ I grin. A weight falls off my shoulders that I didn’t know I carried. I guess part of me was worried what it meant that Lincoln and Adair were angelbound. I’d hate to think of him as stuck with that dingbat forever.

Speaking of the dingbat…I smile, then mime showing off my arm muscle to Lincoln. I soundlessly move my lips while saying ‘Can I touch you?’

Lincoln scowls, his head shaking from side to side. Angling his forehead in my direction, he pointedly smoothes his eyebrow with his middle finger. I have to bite my fist not to laugh out loud.

Adair raises her arms. “Thank you, my people!” The room breaks into enthusiastic applause, no one more than the Earl of Acca. Lincoln claps politely. After that, he gulps a mouthful of wine.

Waving, I catch his attention. I point to the box in my hands, and then to the small window at the other end of the wooden beam.

Lincoln nods slightly and stifles laughter, his cheeks still full of wine. He tries to swallow his gulp and starts coughing instead.

Avery rushes to his side. “Are you alright, your Highness?”

Lincoln clears his throat. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Was there something in the rafters that bothered you?” She tilts her head upwards. I freeze.

Crap, I’m going to get caught.

He grabs Avery’s hand. “No.” Her attention locks on his face. “There’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask you, um, Avery.”

Avery’s already-large eyes open wider. “Oh, my. Whatever you want, your Highness.”

“How are you…” He bites his lips together.

“Yes? Yes?”

“Enjoying…Your dinner?”

“Oh, it’s very good, your Highness. I always like brisket.”