Chapter 23 Auria
Ikept my arm extended until Ivodar decided it was more awkward to look at me than to take the berry-filled pastry out of my hand. “It’s not appropriate for me to eat this while I’m on duty.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not appropriate for me to eat in front of you when you’re spending half your night and all of your morning making sure I’m safe.
Especially when I know you’re all getting extra work tonight for the ball.
” I turned to Kusan, who was dipping a fresh batch of pastries in a glaze.
“Back me up here. It would be rude to make him follow me around with no breakfast.”
She didn’t even look up from her work. “I would never contradict a lady.”
I turned a triumphant grin on Ivodar.
He sighed. “It’s my job. Nobody who has the early morning shift eats breakfast until their replacements come.”
I eyed the pastry he held between two fingers, arranged so the least amount of sugar possible made contact with his hand. “Then do it for me. I’ve missed too many meals in my life to be comfortable watching someone else miss any.”
An uneasy silence filled the kitchen, until Rat squawked. Kusan’s children giggled and put more sunflower seeds and blueberries on a plate for him. Monspen turned on the water in the sink, and Ivodar took a small—very small—bite out of his pastry.
He tipped his chin in a short bow. “I’ll do it at your request, my lady.”
I grinned at him. “Ivodar, you have single-handedly cured my fear of soldiers. I’m very glad whoever is in charge of your schedule keeps assigning you to me in the mornings.”
He ducked his head and stared at the pastry in his hand. “In honesty, I volunteered.”
Ah, that made more sense. “Well, thank you then. It would have been very stressful for me to get assigned someone who hated humans.”
He jerked his face up to meet mine. “Oh no, my lady. It’s not like that. Most fae in Kalshana don’t have strong feelings about humans—you’re more of an anomaly. And Lord Bylur relocated any soldiers who didn’t like humans when you first came.”
He took a hesitant bite of his pastry. “A lot of soldiers volunteered for your assignment, but most of them were just curious about you. Captain Mushrank thought my motivation was better.”
I wiped the sugar on my fingers off on a towel. Even I was aware that it would not be appropriate for a lady to lick her fingers, especially in front of so many people. “Dare I ask what your motivation was?”
He stood and bowed. “To keep you safe.”
Of course. Because I hadn’t sent him to prison. My mind skipped back to the moment I’d first met him. I’d been so scared, but I couldn’t send him to prison when I knew it was wrong. And everything had worked out so well. There was probably a lesson in that somewhere.
Kusan clapped her hands together. “You’re all welcome to stay, but I need Zorion and Shrevia to get back to work.” Her children stood up, and Rat flapped to my shoulder.
“We’ll give you the kitchen back,” I said. “Thanks for letting me invade every morning.”
“Any time.” Kusan offered me a smile before turning all business and ordering her children to different tasks.
I headed to the door outside, but stopped when I saw a wet, sleety snowfall. “Oh.” I wrinkled my nose. “I think I’d rather walk around the castle halls for a bit than go out in that.”
Rat squawked and flew out into the snow.
Ivodar stepped into the doorframe. “Should I follow him?”
I laughed, a warm, giddy happiness filling me.
I knew Ivodar was assigned to me, but the fact that he’d go after my bird made him feel more like a friend than a soldier.
I turned away from the snow and saw Kusan, Zorion, Shrevia, and Monspen all bustling around the kitchen.
I never expected to find friends in this frigid kingdom, but here were five that I loved.
And I had friends amongst the nobles too.
And it was all because of Bylur. I wanted to go hug him, but he was in the hedge maze.
And I was not walking out in that weather. “No,” I said. “He’s fine. He’s smart enough to come inside if he decides he doesn’t like the snow.”
“Why would he go outside?” Zorion called as he carried a pile of clean plates to a cupboard.
I shook my head. “No idea. Sometimes he flies away from me for hours at a time. He comes back when he’s ready. I never know what he does while he’s gone.” I crossed to the hall door and waved to everyone.
I’d already explored most of the ground floor halls, so I turned toward one that I’d planned to revisit for a while.
It was a long corridor with four or five empty rooms and a dozen tapestries lining the walls.
The first tapestry showed another war scene—it was the most common theme in the castle’s decor—but the second weaving depicted a crowning event.
A tall, broad-shouldered, muscular fae with several scars on his bare arms wore a breastplate and stood behind a young fae woman.
Her white hair shimmered like her blue dress, and her face was stoic, completely devoid of any emotion.
He held a sparkling crown just above her head, the crowning moment frozen forever in an elaborate weaving.
I turned behind me and asked Ivodar, “Who is she?”
He stepped closer. “Her Majesty, The Snow Queen, crowned at the end of the Battle of Brothers by her own soldiers. She was Kalshana’s last queen.”
“What happened to her?”
“She disappeared about forty years ago, when a human beat the queen’s challenge.”
“A human beat a fae queen?” I liked how that sounded since I intended to break another queen’s curse.
Ivodar nodded. “I don’t know any more details than that. Only that her disappearance left Kalshana in chaos, and Lord Bylur has spent the last year trying to bring order and strength back to our kingdom before someone else, most likely Queen Daneira, takes control.”
I moved on from The Snow Queen, my thoughts shifting to Bylur’s council and if it would get set up in time to keep Kalshana away from Queen Daneira.
Every meeting I’d attended had three or four nobles with complaints so severe to them that they could not possibly join the movement.
But by the next meeting, they were back to supporting the idea.
It was always three or four different people every time.
Never Dearan, Brielle, Dedalus, or Orla, the four fae who always sat closest to Bylur, but everyone else would rotate through being a staunch supporter and a vocal opponent.
We walked past a room with the door cracked open and two fae discussing something in intense tones.
“Did you give it to Ephaltes?” one voice asked.
“No,” another answered, “he has to know it is essential to his success, and if I just gave it to him, he wouldn’t think it was worth his attention.”
I stopped on the other side of the door, my curiosity piqued. I liked Ephaltes, and it sounded like someone was trying to trick him. I leaned closer to the cracked door, making sure my body was out of sight. Ivodar raised a brow but stood behind me anyway, also out of sight.
“It is essential to his success,” the first voice snarled, “which is why the queen wanted you to give it to him.”
“Relax,” the second voice growled back. His tone was annoyed, but his words were confident. “I sold it to him. Now he knows it is the only way for him to affect more than the three or four people closest to him. If we’re lucky, he’ll use it tonight, and we can take…”
His voice lowered so I couldn’t understand anything else. Ivodar tipped his head down the hall, suggesting we leave, but I couldn’t walk away now. I needed to know what they were talking about.
I shook my head at Ivodar, and he shifted a hand to his sword hilt. Was he threatening me?
But that didn’t make sense. And I knew him too well now to be scared of an intimidating gesture.
Just as I decided not to be scared, the door flew open to reveal one of the fae with a sword high in the air. He brought it crashing down toward my head.
I gasped, dropped to the floor, and rolled away from my attacker. The clang of swords meeting rang through the air before I had time to stand back up. I spun around. Ivodar had caught the sword that had been aimed at me. The attacker pressed down against Ivodar, but they were well matched.
Before the fight could progress, the other fae lifted a medallion off his chest and pointed it at Ivodar.
Something invisible struck my soldier so hard that he flew across the corridor, slammed into the far wall, and then collapsed on the ground.
I rushed toward him, but the fae with the sword grabbed my arm.
“No,” he snarled. “Who sent you to spy on us?”
Spy? I shook my head. “No one.” My voice trembled, but words had never failed me before. “We just came to this hall to look at the tapestries—”
I cut off when he tugged my back to his chest, draped an arm across my chest so I couldn’t move, and slid his sword up to my throat. “I don’t believe you.”
My mind raced. No fear. I couldn’t give in to panic when my life was at stake like this. I could lie. They couldn’t.
They couldn’t.
“If I tell you what you want to know, will you let me live?” I asked.
“Not likely,” Sword Fae said. “But if you don’t start talking, I can make the process much more painful.” He squeezed my arm hard to make his point, and I cried out. My screams didn’t matter—we were in such an isolated wing of the castle that nobody would hear me if they weren’t looking for us.
“What?” The fae who wasn’t pinning me with a sword to my throat moved closer. He lifted up a lock of hair, uncovering my ear. “A human.” He pulled on my ear. I couldn’t move because of the sword at my neck, but it hurt. I tried not to scream again, but a groan escaped me. “Are you Bylur’s wife?”
“Yes,” I breathed, hoping that giving them an answer would work in my favor.
The second fae let go of my ear and nodded at the sword. “Kill her fast and let’s go. If Bylur sent her, we’re—”
The wall with the door in it collapsed at the same time a massive bear stepped over the debris. Not a bear. He had a horn. A dyrakongur. My dyrakongur.
Bylur roared and smacked the fae who had suggested killing me so hard that he flew across the corridor and hit the wall with a sickening crunch.
At the same time, a flood of shadows rushed toward me, spiraling around me and the fae attacking me.
One swirled around the sword, ripping it away from my neck and dropping it on the stone floor with an echoing clatter.
The fae who held me lost his grip, made a few gagging sounds, and then fell silent. I ran to Bylur before turning back to face my attacker. But in the place where I expected to see him, only a silent, frothing pile of shadows remained.
I took a shaky breath and threw myself against Bylur’s leg in a tight hug.
Bylur shifted his weight, pulling me toward the shadowed edge of the hall. “Let’s get you away from this mess,” he said slowly.
Not yet. I lifted my face away from his fur. “Wait! You need to heal Ivodar! Before it’s too late!”
Bylur shook his great fur-covered head. “He is fine, only unconscious. I already checked him with my shadows.”
“Oh, good.” I sank against his arm. My hand trembled, and I folded my arms across myself. “The fae who attacked me?”
“They will never attack anyone again,” Bylur said. He stopped and looked back at them. “Perhaps I should have kept them alive so they could tell me what possessed them to attack you.”
“Oh, well, I have a pretty good idea of that,” I muttered. “Though I do have some questions I would have liked to ask.”
“I regret not getting your answers,” he grumbled, “but I will not apologize for protecting you.”
Perhaps I should have been more distraught by the fact that my husband had just killed two fae to protect me, but I’d seen death when I lived on the streets. And these two deaths meant that I was alive. And I really liked being alive.