Overlord: The Fringe, Book 2 Read Online Free PDF Page A

out an irritated sigh. “I offered my arm to lead you into the dining room.”
    Proud of herself for getting under his skin so easily, she said, “Unless you broke my leg while I was asleep, I can manage.”
    She followed him into a room fifty times the size of her cabin on Taiga. A sheet of white linen, wider and longer than the main street of Pine Glenn, covered a table that could easily hold two hundred people. Elaborate gilded china and delicate fluted glasses were set with careful precision on the closest end.
    Commander pulled her chair out for her.
    Overwhelmed and intimidated, she snidely said, “I think I can figure out how to operate a fancy chair.”
    “I merely offered a courtesy.”
    “Yeah-huh.” She plunked herself down. He sat to her left, at the head of the table. Lifting her hand, she pointed down the table. “Why don’t you sit at the other end?”
    “Because this is where I always sit.”
    “Fine, I’ll sit at the other end.” She shoved her chair back, stood and reached for her plate.
    He grabbed her wrist. “Sit down and shut up.”
    “Or what?” She yanked her arm away from the distracting heat of his touch. “Are you going to send me to bed without supper?”
    “If you insist on acting like a child, I’ll find a highchair and strap you to it.”
    One look at his face, and she knew he intended to carry out his threat. Since she’d pushed him about as far as she dared, she sat, scooted her chair close and plunked her elbows on the table.
    He rang a fragile crystal bell.
    She had to bite her lips not to laugh. The gesture looked silly by such a big man.
    A chubby young girl wearing a crisp, white uniform entered, wheeling a gold-and-silver serving cart. With quick, sure movements, she placed a shallow bowl of soup before each of them, then left the room, trundling the cart back into the kitchen.
    “Magic’s easy when you have servants.” Mary peered dubiously into her bowl. Four wrinkled brown things floated in a light brown swirl with a sprinkling of green bits. “What’s this?”
    “Chestnut soup.” He picked up a big gold-and-silver spoon and brought a spoonful to his lips.
    She mimicked him. A strange, earthy bitterness laced with a tang of citrus. She’d never tasted anything like it. As soon as the first swallow hit her empty belly, her stomach growled.
    Studiously, she ignored the sound and continued eating. Her belly rumbled again. And again. Louder and longer each time.
    “If I didn’t know better, I would think you have a wild animal hidden about your person.”
    His wry comment made her laugh. “I guess three days’ fast has made my stomach rather vocal.”
    “Are you okay?” He leaned close, solicitous and intent.
    Disturbed by his concern, she moved back. “Don’t worry. I won’t erupt all over your fancy table.” She patted her tummy. “That is the sound of gratitude, not gagitude.” Lifting her bowl to her lips, she finished her soup and used her sleeve to wipe her mouth.
    He set his spoon down with a sigh.
    “What?” She eyed the table. She hadn’t broken anything, not yet anyway, and she’d refrained from licking the bowl clean. Plus, she’d left all the silverware. She’d made no effort to steal it. Well, not yet, at any rate.
    “Napkin. Ever heard of one?”
    Her gaze darted around the table. “Nope.”
    He pointed at the pretty spray of red fabric in a long-stemmed wineglass.
    “Oh.” She plucked the napkin out and swabbed it liberally across her face. “It looked like a decoration.”
    He rang the crystal bell again and, as before, the chubby girl trundled in the cart, whisked away their soup dishes, deposited two tiny plates and then disappeared.
    “Like magic.” The food looked like a bright orange mountain saturated with yellow lava. A sprig of green sat on the peak like a lone tree. “What—”
    “Haddock and carrot molds with vermouth sauce.”
    She nodded, understanding carrot but not the rest. Using his small fork, he lifted