111 Chapter 111

In my sleepiness, I had forgotten to account for Sir Fairenson, my new guard. I might have just assumed he had gone home to his wife and daughter for the night, as he always did, but I didn't account for the fact that my weekends at the inn were overtime for him. It was part of the reason I simply hadn't gone the weekend before. It was tiring, and I'd already had a talk with Roman about it. But, alas, the young first master would not move his noble ass one inch on it.

When Dr. Mustache woke me up unceremoniously by tearing off my blanket and jamming a thermostat down my throat, my spazing, half-awake brain instantly went to Sir Fairenson.

"Murder! Assassination!" The thermostat glass clinked against my teeth.

"Oh, hush up." He pinched my ankles to check for swelling. "I don't want to be here either."

I lolled my head about to see Gus leaning in the open doorway, snickering.

"Seems your body guard's squealed on you," Gus said.