"First time the boy came in here, he had a shiny silver coin in his hand. Said he was a runaway, the son of a dead duke from somewhere in Avenia, only he didn`t want to be a duke. So if I took him in and gave him preferential care and a place to hide, he`d pay me a coin a week. Kept it up for two weeks, all the time laughin` it up on extra servings at dinner and with extra blankets on his bed."
Conner glanced at me, and I rolled my eyes. He`d be less impressed when she finished the story.
"Then one night he took with a fever. Got all delirious late in the night, hitting at everyone and yelling and such. I was there when he confessed it all. He`s no son of anyone important. The coins belonged to a duke all right, but he`d stolen them to trick me into caring for him. I dumped his body into the cellar to get better or not, I didn`t care. Next time I checked on him, he`d got over the fever on his own and was a good deal more humble."
Conner looked at me again. "He doesn`t look so humble now."
"I got over that, too," I said.
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