Chapter Six
I awoke the next morning as the servants came in bringing me breakfast in bed, which was so outside of anything I’d ever experienced before that I was absolutely speechless.
The servants propped pillows behind me to help me sit up and spread my napkin across my lap so I wouldn’t spill anything on myself or on the beautiful, snowy white sheets.
I was too stunned to say much as they heaped the plate on my tray with spiced eggs and more goblin fruit and wine, along with something called “sop” which I’d heard of but had never tasted.
It was crusty white bread soaked in the goblin wine.
I made a little face at the consistency of it and pushed it aside.
But I did ask for some of the white bread with some butter to eat along with my eggs.
Again, I noticed that again no meat or fish was served.
I didn’t miss it—my grandmother didn’t care for meat and rarely, if ever, ate it or even fish, so I had grown up mostly without it.
They also offered me something they called “ambrosia,” that was quite delicious.
I ate what I could of the enormous meal the servants had brought me and had just pushed my plate away as King Fionn came into my room.
I jumped to my feet and bowed. “Lord King…”
“I came to see how you were. I trust you slept well.”
“Yes, I did …thank you.”
“I’ll have the servants find you some clothes. The things you wore here aren’t suitable.”
“But I… Lord… I mean, Your Grace, won’t you please tell me why you brought me here? I-I really would like to go back home. In fact, I-I demand you take me.”
He had the nerve to look amused. “This is your home now, Braden.” He took a step toward me and put a finger under my chin to raise my eyes to look at him.
“You’re not in a position to make demands of me.” He continued to stare at me until I lowered my eyelashes over my eyes. He pulled his finger away then and smiled, patting me on the cheek.
“And besides, I have work to do. I’ve been away for several days with this business.” He hadn’t said the words unkindly, exactly, but I was still bothered.
“But what business? I have no idea why you’ve brought me here in the first place, sir. I don’t belong in this place. And won’t you please tell me what happened to my uncle Leofric?”
“So many questions. First of all, it’s not required of you to know why you’re here.
At least not yet. Secondly, you were born in this realm, so I struggle to see how you ‘don’t belong here.
’ And I have no idea what happened to your uncle.
I didn’t know you had one until you brought him up.
Now listen to me—later today, there will be a kind of reception or party that you’ll be attending. Until then, you can rest quietly here.”
“A party? But what kind of party?”
He totally ignored my question and simply turned on his heel to leave. When he reached the door, he stopped and glanced back at me. “How much do you know about your natural father? Did your mother tell you anything about him at all?”
“No, not really. She once told my grandmother he was a Faery king, but no one believed her and that was about it. Do you know who my father was? Did he have something to do with you bringing me here?”
“Yes,” he replied, as he opened the door and walked through it, leaving me to seethe with frustration and anger.
“I have a right to know about my father!” I shouted after him. “Does he even know about me or where I am?” But he had closed the door firmly behind him, ignoring me.
The servants left me alone for a few hours after that, and when I tried the door, it was securely locked.
They returned with the tub again later and more of the steaming buckets of scented water.
Again, I was stripped and dunked and scrubbed until my skin was pink all over, and then they sat me down by the fire again, wrapped in a robe to wait for my hair to dry.
In a short while, a courtier came in with an assortment of clothing that he hung in a wardrobe or folded to put inside a chest at the foot of my bed. He came toward me with a stack of clothing in his arms and motioned for me to rise.
He then stripped off the robe and began to dress me as if I were a child, from the skin out.
He was quiet and efficient and didn’t let his hands roam, so I allowed it, knowing that this was his job and what rich people did, or so I’d heard.
The king would probably have the poor man beaten or worse if he failed to carry out his orders.
I had many more unkind and unflattering thoughts about King Fionn as I stood there being dressed up like a little girl’s poppet for some unknown and unfathomable reason. Finally, I went over to stand in front of the full length, oval mirror by the wardrobe to survey the finished look.
I hardly recognized the creature gazing back at me.
His white, silver and blond hair was unbound and lying across his shoulders.
His cheekbones were high and sharp and his nose perfectly straight and just the right length for his pretty face.
His ears came to a slight point at the tips—not as much as Fionn’s did, but much more than they had before.
His skin was clear and lovely and very lightly tanned a golden brown.
The outfit he was wearing was royal purple—a layered tunic that came to his knees.
It was crafted from fine silk and worn over a linen undershirt and paired with loose linen underpants and silken hose.
A more deeply colored cloak was draped over that, richly decorated and embroidered in silver thread.
It hung mostly across one shoulder and was held in place by a belt around the waist. The shoes were made of fine leather that came up to his ankles, narrow and shiny and turned up slightly at the toes.
I refused to believe that it was actually me in the mirror, all evidence to the contrary.
I could feel the smooth linen next to my skin, though, and the shoes pinched my feet a little.
I was startled, however, with the resemblance—admittedly only half-remembered—of this man in the mirror to a pencil sketch I’d once seen of the face of my poor, lost mother, although the man in the mirror definitely had my grandmother’s unusual, blue eyes, instead of my mother’s amber ones.
I heard a slight gasp at the door and turned to see King Fionn staring in at me.
“What is it?” I asked him. “Do I look strange?”
“You look beautiful, as I’m sure you must know. Are you fishing for compliments?”
“Certainly not,” I replied in an indignant voice. “Not that you’d give me any if I was. Nothing about how I look is even real, and none of it is my doing. I don’t believe a bit of it. You’ve done some kind of magic on me.”
He shook his head. “No, Braden, I assure you that this is all you. I told you that your glamour cracked and fell away as we came through the portal.”
“My glamour cracked? What glamour? There was never any such thing.”
He shook his head. “Don’t pretend you don’t know. And I won’t continue to argue with you when you act like a child. Stop it.” He folded his arms across his chest. “But I’m right, and you’re wrong. As usual.”
And he said I was immature. I gave him a mean look and huffed at him, and he gave me back an equally mean smile. “Come along. The party is about to begin.”
“I hope this party, whatever it is, has some food. I’m starving, and no one brought me anything to eat today since my breakfast.”
“Yes, yes, there’ll be food and wine. I’m sure it was an oversight that you had no food at midday, but I’ll look into it for you.
The servants were probably so amazed at the prodigious amounts of food and wine you ate at dinner last night and again at breakfast this morning that they didn’t realize you’d require even more at midday.
It’s only a theory, but I suspect it’s true.
They’ll have to adjust their thinking about halflings and their big appetites accordingly. ”
“I didn’t eat that much,” I protested, stung by his insults and hating how much I was blushing.
I could almost feel my cheeks blazing up.
I tried to pull my hand away from his with no success at all.
“It’s because the food here is so delicious, and the fruit and those pastries were so good.
It would have been rude not to eat it all. ”
“Eat that much every day, and I may have to widen the doors inside the palace, so you’ll fit through them.”
“Oh, very funny. Wait—please tell me what kind of party this is. Give me some idea of what to expect.”
“All right. The queen wants to meet you. To welcome you and introduce you to her sons.”
I frowned at him, sure he was joking, and I would have punched him if I thought his guards, who were lining the corridors, wouldn’t have killed me immediately.
He had to be joking. But then why were all of them staring at me, not taking their eyes off me?
It was unnerving. And what queen? It was the first I’d heard of any queen.
Whose queen was she? Was Fionn married? Did he have sons?
The thought shocked me so much I was speechless.
“Something to say about it?” he asked, but I kept my face turned straight ahead and refused to look at him. I was far too angry and stunned to speak.
“But why?” I groaned. “Why would she want to meet me? And why should she bring her sons into this?”
“I expect she hopes for a match. You being the son of a king and all. They’re still a little young though—thirteen and sixteen respectively, but they’ll grow. Either would make you a good match.”
“I hope you’re joking,” I huffed. “Why on earth would the woman want a fully grown man to match her young sons?”
“Fully grown is a bit of a stretch, a chroi. You’re probably only a few years older.”
“I’m almost twenty-two!”
“And only a child tells you how old he ‘almost’ is.”
“I’m not a child.”
“Mm. Well, come along and meet them all anyway. I’m sure other suitors are lining up as we speak.”
“I don’t want any suitors.”