Chapter Five
A mori followed her into the kitchen and paused. “What the heck is that?”
Heyval crossed her arms. “I made a loaf of bread.”
He walked up to it and slid an arm around her waist. “It’s a kitsune. Nine tails.”
“Yeah. Well, it was fun to play with a single loaf for a change.”
He looked at it. “How did you get this detail?”
“Razor. Well, crack off a piece of tail, and there are four different butters to try. I am going to have one of the moons.” She stepped toward the huge platter where a sleeping kitsune with the fan of tails behind him had been executed in three different flours and glossed with egg wash.
The pies were shaped and arranged over the fox spirit with the phases of the moon.
Before she could grab a pie, he said, “Wait.”
He took pictures quickly and grinned. “My mom won’t believe it.”
“She’s a fan of pastry?”
“She’s always on the lookout for fox representation. Kitsune in particular.”
“Well, you had better eat it, or I won’t make another.” She snagged the pie she was eyeing, and the rest of the kitchen staff was eating the leftovers.
She ate and smiled. “So, are you going to start at the ears or the tails?”
Amori looked at her. “I am not going to eat it. It’s gorgeous.”
“It’s fun bread. I can make another.”
“Can you make another for my birthday?”
“Sure. Just tell me when, and keep enough space for me in the kitchen. The sculpting takes a while.”
He grinned. “Absolutely. In that case...” He reached out and ripped chunks of tails out, then dipped them each into some of the butter.
Heyval laughed. He was eating happily. She bit into the pie again and smiled at the creamy chicken filling.
Amori was dipping and slurping, and she looked at him warily. “You don’t have to eat the whole thing. It’s equivalent to two loaves of bread.”
He nodded. “Fine, but I am taking it with me.”
Heyval put her hand on his shoulder. “Eat a meat pie first. There are vegetables in it.”
He grinned. “You care.”
“I can’t stand to watch a man kill himself with carbs and cholesterol this close to his birthday.”
He grinned. “You care.”
“Only about not being labelled as part of your cause of death.”
The chef laughed, and when Amori looked over with narrowed eyes, the cooks vanished.
“So, you get weird about food frequently?”
“No, but they know when to take a break.”
She caught on. “Oh, you have ladies in the kitchen.”
He winced. “I hadn’t thought about it, but it isn’t the kind of thing I should be bragging about.”
“Nope. Definitely not.” She shrugged. “Well, not if you expect me to sleep with you again. It kind of leaves me cold.”
Amori frowned and put the bread down. He reached for her, and she jumped back.
“Your Majesty, your hands are covered with butter, and this is all I have to wear unless I go home and get something.”
He paused and looked at his shining fingers. “Oh. I will ask my assistant to get you something.”
“I don’t need to bother him.
“Her. Hang on. She’s coming.”
A slow and sedate clicking of thick heels approached. An older woman, who appeared to be in her fifties, walked into the space, and Heyval felt her breath rush out of her lungs.
“Heyval, this is my assistant, Miss Azila. Miss Azila, this is my intended, Heyval.”
The woman had silvery hair in a tight bun, black eyes, and a fit body encased in a grey suit. She carried a tablet, and the discrete outline of a phone was poking out of her pocket. What came as a shock were the magical restraint bands around the woman’s wrists, ankles, and neck.
The woman looked at Heyval and smiled slightly. “Very nice to meet you, miss.”
The king said, “Azila, please outfit Heyval with a complete wardrobe.”
“Of course. Formal gown for your party?”
“Definitely.”
“Can I take her out, or do you want all arrangements executed here?” The woman had her tablet up and was typing with one hand.
“Here, please. She’s being stalked with a death sentence.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. This would be the necromancer, then.”
Heyval blinked. “Yes. I am.”
Azila nodded. “Good. Do you have time to come with me?”
“Yes, can I ask about the mage binders?”
“Oh, that is a funny story. I was a gift to King Amori. The dark elves found me and bound me. So, now I am a personal assistant.”
Amori blinked. “I didn’t know they found you. I thought you were collateral for a loan or something.”
Azila snorted. “No. Miss, grab the rest of your lunch and come on. We will use one of the lounges to make the choices.”
As they started to walk, Amori called out, “I am coming, too.”
Azila spoke in a slightly raised tone. “Wash your hands and bring a plate and napkins.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Amori’s voice followed them.
Heyval had several pies in her hands and said, “Do I need napkins?”
“Nope. You know how to keep yourself tidy.”
Heyval didn’t know if she was allowed to laugh or not. “How were you found?”
“I was face down outside of a mine. The dark elves got a good look at me and decided that domestic service was in my future.”
“And now you run the household of the king.”
“Yes. It is easy enough. For some reason, everyone does as I say.” She chortled.
They entered the lounge, and Azila sat and gestured for Heyval to sit next to her. Azila rattled off her sizes, including the underwear. Heyval nodded and continued to eat.
The images on the screen made Heyval stop. “Those are amazing.”
“Good. I have a line on ten designers in the city. I will make the selections once I pin down your style. Your approval has given me ideas, and now the shopping will commence.”
Her fingers tapped wildly, and Heyval swallowed slowly, wishing for a glass of water.
A glass of water set itself on the table next to her, along with a cup of coffee prepared the way she liked it.
“How did you do that?”
“Magic, miss.”
“You have bonding.”
“It restricts a portion of me.” She chuckled. “Not all. They seem to be losing power as well. I should be free shortly.”
“Free to do what?”
“Leave, take on my actual shape, call my father. Any number of things.”
“Wait. You can’t call your parents?”
“No. It isn’t a phone call; it is a power surge. For that, I need my freedom.” Azila tapped and ordered an astonishing amount of clothing.
“Wow. You could shop professionally.”
“Yes, from what I remember, I was in acquisitions, but the details are foggy. This form isn’t the one I used to make those memories, so it has difficulty with recall.”
Heyval blinked. “Right. Form-lock. You are stuck with the persona and experiences you designed into your shape. I don’t shift shape, but I read that in a spell book.”
“It is common if you are trapped in a form for more than a few days.”
“How long have you been in this shape?”
Azila lifted her head and closed her eyes. “Eight years.”
Amori came in. “Has it been eight years already, Azila?”
She opened her eyes and nodded. “It has. Eight years of being locked to this city. I swear, if I ever see that dark elf again, I am going to tear him in half.”
Amori nodded. “I won’t stop you. We don’t have mage-bonding here. No one is bound the way you have been.”
Heyval paused. “You didn’t ask for her.”
“She was a gift as part of a minor contract. I accepted her to get her away from them.”
Azila smiled. “Life here hasn’t been bad, but I know there is so much freedom that I am missing out on.”
Amori sat near them with his plate, bread, butters, and some pies. The napkins were draped over his wrist.
Heyval smiled and continued eating.
Azila said, “Now for shoes. I am hoping you can manage heels for formals.”
Her fingers ticked rapidly, and she was silent for a few minutes while Heyval shared her water with Amori. The coffee was hers alone.
“I can manage them.”
“Good.” Azila smiled and finished tapping. “Done. I will begin receiving deliveries today. Your Majesty, do you want her in the guestroom, or shall I have a new wardrobe installed in your rooms? Your dressing room, specifically.”
Amori chuckled. “You have my authorization to install a wardrobe for Heyval in there.”
“Excellent. We will also take half of your daily wear storage.”
Amori grinned. “I expect nothing less.”
Heyval was stunned that he would just give up his space like that.
“I have also ordered wraps for my hands in case I have to beat the hell out of your mother if she gives Heyval any trouble.”
Heyval looked up with crumbs clinging to her lips. “What?”
“Oh, yes, miss. You are a useful person, and there are few of those people in the king’s life. I expect you to remain here, have cute, little, heavily furred, and multi-tailed babies, and rule over the city with him.”
Heyval glanced at Amori, and his eyes glowed as he kept eating. “Uh, that is a little putting the cart in front of the horse.”
Azila smiled. “And Heyval, would you like to go for a few beauty treatments? A nice massage, haircut, mani-pedi?”
“I could use a trim, and my hands are really dry from work. No one in their right mind turns down a massage.” Heyval smiled. “If you can find someone to take me.”
“I can take a break and do it myself if you don’t object.”
Amori’s head was up, and he was nodding. “Heyval, let her do it. She’s really good.”
Azila smiled. “I am rather good at it. I have reset his arm a time or two when he tried rock climbing.”
Amori sighed. “I wasn’t rock climbing. I was helping get an orc detachment out of the city.”
His assistant waved her hand carelessly in the air. “Whatever.”
Heyval laughed. “You are all kinds of fun.”
Azila waggled her brows. “You have no idea.” She set her tablet down. “King Amori, you have a visitor.”
He sat up. “What?”
“Wipe off the grease and put your buttered tail down. King Ulric and his queen are here for a visit.”
Heyval perked up. “Queen Allora?”
Azila nodded. “Indeed.”
“Can I meet her?”
Azila chuckled. “Proper tense, please.”
“May I meet her?”
Amori grinned. “Wipe your hands on a napkin, and you can meet them. Her. Whatever.”