Starling groaned, completely without hope. "You just wait until someone drops herself on your lap. See if Niabheara finds it at all funny."

Marcello laughed. "I'll just pray they stay scared of me for longer," he replied. "Maybe go shirtless so they can all see my chest hair. They're all terrified of chest hair."

"Well, yes," Starling said kindly. "Because it's disgusting. You need to see if you can do anything about that, mate. Maybe after winter, when you don't actually need it anymore."

Marcello coughed. "Er. Ah, thank you for the advice. I'll take it under consideration."

"I live to serve." It was hard to tell if he was being serious or if this was meant to be payback for Marcello brushing off the threat of the Hereditary Princess of Whatever. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"Right now?" Marcello asked. "Not that I can think of. If you have any questions, something I haven't thought of, ask me. I'm going to go tell your sister I've pressed you into service. I suspect she might be mad at me."

"Oh, she will. If she does, just come back the next day and tell her I said I changed me mind, or that I checked it out and decided it was too difficult, or something." He spoke with great confidence. "Otherwise she will drive us both batshit."

Marcello shrugged. "The point of telling her is so that we can both make sure you're safe," he reminded the boy. "And so you can bring information to her or ask her questions if need be. I'm not sure how I feel about misleading her."

"I will be fine," he said. "If it gets sticky, I'll tell someone. If not I'd just as soon not have Niabheara tellin' me not to."

Marcello nodded. "As long as you're all right with that," he agreed. "I suppose Elaine knows half of it already. You can tell her if you need to."