Chapter 19 Auria #2
She curtsied again. “Yes, my lady. But not recently. I told Parcival when it happened. He must have informed my lord. And the problem is gone now.”
“Bylur doesn’t seem like the kind of fae who refuses to speak to you because of your station?” The question tumbled out of my mouth before I realized it might be offensive.
But she just chuckled. “No, my lady. But I would not presume to speak to the most powerful fae in our kingdom just because I work in his household.”
I grinned at her. “But you’ll speak to me.”
Her smile shifted to a more compassionate expression—like a mother explaining how the castle worked to her children. “You did bring yourself down here to my door.”
I blew out the rest of my nerves. “I did. Did Parcival tell you why the bread stopped disappearing?”
Her brows lifted in a curious expression. “No, my lady.”
Rat chirped an impatient encouragement. I passed a sunflower seed up to him, keeping my attention facing Kusan. “I snuck down here and took one, almost every day, when I first came here because I was afraid you would be upset if I spoke to you first.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, no, my lady. You’re welcome to any of the baguettes you’d like. I also make softer loaves and sweet pastries every morning.”
“Pastries?” I hadn’t dared look around the kitchen when I’d snuck in, but pastries had always been something I’d only dreamed about.
Kusan’s eyes lit up. “Yes. Come, my lady.”
She led me into the kitchen, to a counter I’d avoided because it was exposed to so many angles. On top of it, in a dozen neat, tidy rows, were hundreds of pastries on little plates. As I stared at the most perfect version of heaven, the fae child sidled up next to me. “Can I touch your bird?”
“Zorion!” Kusan glared at the waist-high boy.
“I don’t mind.” I reached into my pocket, pulled out a sunflower seed, and opened the boy’s hand, setting the seed in his palm. “If you hold this for him, he’ll come to you. His name is Rat.”
Zorion lifted his hand up higher, and I supported it by placing my hands underneath. A bird as tall as Rat could easily topple a child’s hand.
“Here ya’ go, Rat,” the boy sang, and I wiggled my shoulder. Rat hopped down, landed on Zorion’s hand, and picked up the seed with his beak. “He tickles!”
I tightened my hold on Zorion’s hand so he didn’t drop my bird, but Rat hopped back up to my shoulder anyway.
The adolescent girl scooted closer to us and softly said, “He’s really pretty.”
Kusan set a hand on her shoulder. “Yes. Let’s get back to work now.
Lady Auria needs to get her breakfast, and we need to finish cleaning.
” The door opened and another maid brought an armful of dishes to Monspen.
When she turned to leave, her eyes landed on me, widened, and she dropped into a deep curtsy before muttering something and running out the door.
I picked out a pastry formed with swirls of cinnamon and frosting between layers of bread. It smelled like life itself. Grinning, I faced Kusan and the others. “I should have come in here weeks ago. Thank you.”
Kusan dipped her head. “You’re welcome back any morning. Or send a message if you’d like me to send something up to your room.” She patted the adolescent girl. “Shrevia would be happy to help.” The girl smiled and curtsied too.
I clutched my treat and hurried outside.
They were lovely, but I didn’t want to stay long enough to say something embarrassing.
Rat lifted off my shoulder. He’d found lots of favorite spots around the castle and spent more time away from me than hovering lately.
Maybe he thought I didn’t need as much babysitting as when the elf had first given him to me.
He was right—I’d never been safer in my life than I was now.
I settled onto my favorite bench, between the hedge maze and fountain, and started picking off pieces of pastry to enjoy one tiny bite at a time.
A warmth emanated from the bench despite the sparkling ice and snow that surrounded us.
I bet Bylur or someone had enchanted it so the fae could enjoy beautiful spots like this one without freezing to death.
Or did winter fae even care about cold? I should ask someone that—maybe at Afternoon Tea today.
A shadow crossed the stones around the fountain, and I looked up to see a tall fae woman with the same blue hair as Ephaltes emerging from the hedge. She quickly crossed the space to me and curtsied. “Lady Auria.”
I recognized her from spying on Bylur’s meetings, but I’d only ever spoken to her cousin. “Lady Eris?”
She bobbed her head quickly. “Yes. I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I must ask you to come into the hedge. There’s—a situation that I believe you should be apprised of.”
I raised a brow. “In the hedge?”
“Yes.” Her brows knit together in worry. “Normally, I’d take this right to Lord Bylur, but everyone knows he’s not available during the day any more. I think you’re the next logical choice.”
I popped the last bit of pastry into my mouth and set the little plate on the bench. “Do I need anything?”
“No, just—” She wrung her fingers. I felt bad for her obvious anxiety, so I stood up. “Just come look at it,” she finished.
I followed her into the hedge, around two corners, and toward a dead end. At the end of the path, the evergreen hedge sparkled with some pink magic. She pointed at it. “This isn’t supposed to be here.”
I raised a brow. “What is it?”
She gestured me closer, and then slipped behind me. “I’m afraid,” she whispered, and then she grabbed my arm with one hand while she slipped her other hand over my shoulder to rest a long knife blade against my throat. “It’s a distraction.”
The cold metal against my skin shot a wave of panic through my body. My arms, legs, and throat stiffened.
“You are terribly gullible,” Eris whispered, “which does actually make me feel a tiny bit guilty about this. No fae would ever have come in here as vulnerably as you did.”
My mouth jumped on that while my brain was still half frozen. “You could listen to that guilt,” I whispered back, not daring to speak at full volume with a knife on my throat. “No reason to do something you’ll regret later.”
She laughed a terrible, rueful chuckle. “Oh, there are many reasons. My regret will not last long, and this seems to be the best—”
“Raaaaat!” My cockatoo dived at Eris’s head. Instead of dropping me or swatting at him, she tightened her hold and pressed the knife into my skin. Warm drops of blood trickled down my neck.
“Call him off!” she hissed in my ear. “Send him away quietly, or I’ll kill you this instant.”
“Would you, though?” I asked. “He’ll draw more attention, and it will be harder for you to get away—”
She pressed the knife into my skin harder.
“Fine!” I whispered. She eased back just enough that I could whistle to Rat. I squeaked out a short bird call that I’d used for years to tell him we needed to hide. He squawked one more time right above our heads, and then dove toward the middle of the hedge.
“Are you killing me or taking me hostage?” I asked, hoping to buy time. Maybe someone had seen Rat—
“Killing,” she whispered. “Nothing else would work.”
“Maybe I could help you think of something?” The words rushed out of me. “I did call off my bird.”
I felt her shake her head behind me and tighten her grip. “No. Nothing else will work. Sorry. Sometimes we have to make sacrific—”
A thunderous roar filled the air around us and a giant white bear came crashing through the hedge.
“Bylur,” I breathed.
Eris dropped her knife and squeaked. “Bylur?” In her surprise, she loosened her grip on me, and I darted away from her, rushing to hide behind one of Bylur’s monstrous legs.
He swatted at her with a low growl, and she fell backward, landing on her back.
She propped herself back up into a sitting position. “Your Highness—”
Bylur growled again, and she rolled over onto her knees. “Please, Your Highness, have mercy!”
His grinding bear voice filled the damaged hedge. “Were you going to show mercy to my wife?”
Eris’s face paled, making a stark white contrast with her dark blue hair. “I didn’t want to. I had to—”
He cut her off. “Who?”
“Who?” she choked back.
“Who told you to attack my wife?” Bylur ground back at her.
She took a slow, trembly breath—
And then an arrow plunged through her throat.
I covered my mouth to keep my pastry down and spun my gaze to the tops of the castle walls where the arrow had come from. I barely caught a glimpse of a hooded figure leaping off the wall and disappearing into the castle’s busy-ness.
I winced as I risked a glance back at Eris. She had nearly killed me, but—
I was alive now, and she was not. I ripped my gaze up to Bylur’s big head. “Can you… heal that?”
“No,” he ground out. “I cannot. She is gone. It was very well aimed.”
I studied the wall where the archer had disappeared. “They weren’t close. Are there many fae who can make a shot like that?”
Bylur snorted a blast of air out of his nose. It made a little cloud in the cold air before dissipating. “Any of the nobles could have enchanted the arrow to make up for less-than-perfect aim. And many of my soldiers could have made the shot without magic.”
I stared at him. “Do you think one of your soldiers—”
“No.” He sighed. “I suspect a noble. Whoever sent her to kill you would have wanted to silence her when she failed. But who it was? I do not know. House Fundan is small enough that they work hard to be on good terms with everyone. They are also big enough that most people want to be on good terms with them.”
Rat’s squawking cut through the air with several shouts. “This way!” “Into the hedge!”
“Auria.” Bylur spoke faster than normal, but his harsh grinding voice still slowed his tones. “I want to be your pet in this form.”
My pet? I barely had time to register the words when Dearan, Ivodar, and several other soldiers ran into view. Dearan’s jaw fell as he stared at Bylur. Then he turned to me. “What happened here?”