by ERIN BEDFORD
"Well, in that case..." Luke grew serious, crossing his arms once more as he closed his eyes and nodded. "I would have fed you to the dragon already."
“No, you wouldn’t.” I giggled and nudged him on the shoulder playfully. "You love me too much."
"You think very highly of yourself, if you think I love you already."
I grinned broadly at him and arched a brow. "Don't you?"
Luke played as if he was thinking about it, shrugging one shoulder and then the other. I giggled and nudged him with my elbow again.
"Okay,” he admitted. “I guess I tolerate you."
“I can’t go on,” I gasped and clutched my chest with both hands as if I'd been struck by an arrow. I wobbled in place, grabbing a hold of Luke's arm. " Tell the king, I—"
"Tell the King what?"
The low rumbling voice of Balefire caused the occupants of the room to freeze. Not a sound could be heard. I wasn't even sure anyone was breathing. I straightened slowly, removing my hand from Luke's arm and clearing my throat as my eyes found the bright blue eyes of the king.
Those gorgeous orbs, totally wasted on the fae man before me, held both annoyance and curiosity. Standing high above everyone else in the room, he wore a pale blue button-down shirt lined with golden brocade. The shirt fit his broad shoulders and revealed the tight muscles beneath the fabric. His tattoos peeked out beneath the collar and at his wrist. Normally, those tattoos caused those who knew what they meant to go on the defensive, but to me, they triggered a strange tingling in the pit of my stomach. I resolved to define it as resentment. Surely not interest. Not in him. He's pretty for a fae, sure, but he was also an asshole.
To Balefire's left stood Finch, his lips pressed into a severe line even as his eyes shone brightly with amusement. He was clearly trying to hold back his laughter. Finch dressed for one of his station, a shirt similar to the king's except in a deep brown, but while the king didn't wear a jacket, Finch did. It fit his form perfectly, accenting every inch of him. I could see a few of the female servants flutter their lashes in his direction once they got over the initial shock of the king's words.
Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone was waiting for my response, the king especially. So, I cleared my throat and laced my fingers in front of me as I put on my best demur smile.
"My apologies, Your Majesty. We were simply discussing how odd it is for a baker such as myself to be acting as your server. I'm not exactly qualified for the job." My words seemed to smooth out some of the feathers I'd ruffled by being here, but the king didn't find my words so appeasing.
As he stalked into the room, his lips ticked up into a smirk. Balefire stopped before his place at the table. A servant quickly rushed to his side and pulled it out for him. He ignored her, a sprite, named Lily, I think, and locked eyes on me.
"Are you questioning my decision, Miss Burner?” the king asked curtly. “Should I have allowed you to make the meal for our esteemed guests? A no-name baker with a name like Burner could hardly be trusted to not poison my guests, don't you think?"
I lifted my shoulder in a noncommittal sort of way. "I don't pretend to know what goes on in your mind, your majesty. It's obviously far above my pay grade. As for my baking skills, you yourself chose me for this position. Are you saying you don't trust your own judgement?"
I was playing with fire. I knew I was. Still, I couldn't help the condescension that poured out of my mouth. I was tired of being played a fool. He wanted to mess with me? Fine. But he better be able to take it if he's going to dish it out, and this human liked to serve hers steeping hot.
My question astounded those around me, and even Luke sucked in a surprised breath. The way they tensed and paused in their movements told me that they expected Balefire to strike me down right there. I half-hoped that he would so we could stop this game of ogre and gnome. No one liked to be the butt of a joke, least of all me.
Balefire's jaw ticked as he slowly sat in his chair and placed one hand on the table. His long index finger tapped in slow succession as he surveyed me. Finch strolled into the room further, waving the servant off who tried to pull his chair out for him to the left of Balefire. His emerald green eyes shifted back and forth between us as if trying to figure out if he should intervene. After what seemed like an eternity, the king's finger stopped tapping on the table.
"Out," he suddenly commanded in a loud, booming voice.
Instantly, the room came back to life in a frenzy. Servants bumped into each other. Plates fell to the ground as they all rushed to leave the dining room, and I moved to follow Luke out.
"Not you, Miss Burner," the king demanded.
Luke hesitated and tossed a sympathetic look over his shoulder before hurrying out of the room as well. I guess he didn't like me that much yet.
Holding back an irritated sigh, I waited for Balefire to get to the point so I could get back to work. I didn't want to listen to whatever downgrading venom was about to spill out of those gorgeous lips.
As he crossed one leg over the other, Balefire lifted a hand and gestured for me to come forward. When I hesitated, he arched a brow. I ground my teeth and curled my fingers into fists as I moved one short step at a time to the table and stopped several feet away.
"Come now, I won't bite." Balefire gave me a wolfish grin, making me think he meant the exact opposite.
With a defiant glare, I took one more step toward him and stopped again. To my satisfaction, Balefire's smile dipped slightly, and brows furrowed, he looked me over studiously.
"Why do you fight me so? Things could be so much easier for you if you simply abide by my wishes."
I snorted before I could stop myself.
"See? That right there is what I am talking about." He pointed at my face with an astonished frown. "Why is it that every other servant I've ever had has known to keep their mouths shut and their reactions to themselves? But you can't seem to keep what you're thinking off your face or your lips." His gaze dipped down to the lips in question.
The look made me squirm, but I forced myself to meet his gaze.
"Maybe because they fear you and I don't." I spoke loud and clear so that he couldn't pretend that he didn't understand me.
Finch groaned and lowered his face to his hand as he shook his head from side to side. He certainly didn't agree with my actions, but he also wasn't going to call me out on it. Balefire's reaction was the only one that mattered in any case.
I expected him to lash out, tell me that I was going to the dungeon or wherever else the fae royals sent their unwanted servants. At the least, I expected him to get angry, but when he started to laugh, I flinched back. This wasn't a little chortle, but a full-on head-back, throat-barred belly laugh. If I wasn't so shocked, I'd have found him largely attractive. That lovely blonde hair that cascaded over his shoulders. That voice that I'd only heard speak out of spite and anger came out low and rumbling, making strange things stir in my nether regions. I finally understood why some of the women might fear him, but they also wanted him... desperately.
Gulping, I took a step back as he continued to laugh for an uncomfortably long time. A sideways look at Finch told me that this was unusual for him too. The slack jawed expression and round eyes told me as much. I took several more steps back just for good measure.
As quickly as the laughing started, it stopped the second I took my last step.
"Stop." I froze at the seriousness in Balefire’s voice, all the laughter now gone from it. "I do not know if you are brave or just stupid, Miss Burner, but I suppose things would get boring quickly if you were that easily broken." He flashed me a wicked grin, and my pulse jumped. I didn't know if it was from fear or... something else, but at that moment, I didn't have the time to figure it out.
Quick as lightning, Balefire’s hand shot out and grabbed me by the arm. He jerked me forward until we were inches apart, then he took my chin in his hands and lifted my face up to meet his gaze. His voice lowered as if he were talking to a lover, but the words tha
t poured from his mouth was nothing short of venomous.
"Believe me when I say this: You think you don't fear me, but I will do my best to prove you wrong." He leaned in so that his lips brushed my ear, and my heart pounded in my veins so loudly that I barely heard him as he whispered, "And I will revel in every sweet torturous moment of it."
Then he shoved me away so fast that I almost lost my footing and fell. Wouldn't that have been embarrassing? Worst yet, he turned his back on me and returned to his chair without a backward look.
"So, where are our esteemed guests?" the king asked Finch.
Finch stared at me for a long moment before clearing his throat and answering, "You told them seven. It is barely after five o'clock."
Balefire glanced over at the clock on the mantel and let out a long, drawn-out groan. "So, it is. Why are we doing this again?'
He was acting as if I weren't even in the room at all. Was this the way he treated all the other servants? As if they were invisible, and all of his food just magically appeared before him? It twisted my stomach in knots and made me want to smack him over the head at the same time. Fucking fae royalty and their lack of appreciation for those who worked for them.
"You're still here?" Balefire's eyes snapped to me. That's when I realized I was growling. I abruptly stopped, but his next words made me want to start again. "Don't you have some dishes to clean or something?"
Narrowing my eyes on him, I gave a curtsy that showed nothing but my contempt for him before storming out of the room. The soft sounds of his and Finch's conversation followed after me. When I stepped into the serving room, one room closer to the kitchen, I jolted to a stop. All eyes were on me.
I gave a weak smile and waved. "Hey."
"You're alive," Luke gasped, grabbing my hands in his and then pulling me into a hard hug. "We thought you were done for."
I struggled against his embrace and squeaked out, "Can't breathe," before he let me go.
"Oops, sorry." Luke grinned sheepishly as he released me, but he kept his hands on my shoulders. "So, what happened? How are you not dragon food right now?"
Several other servants who had pretty much ignored me before stepped closer as if they too wanted to know how I survived my encounter with the beast. Scratching the back of my head, I laughed nervously.
"It was fine. No big deal." I shrugged a shoulder. When they only watched me and waited for more, I sighed and shook my head. "I don't know. He has some weird infatuation with making my life miserable. It's like, the more I defy him, the more he wants to screw with me. I think it's all a game to him." I shrugged again. "The gods must be bored or something."
There was a collective gasp before everyone was talking at once, coming in at me from all sides.
"What's he like up close?"
"Are his eyes as sparkly as they seem?"
"Did he hit you?"
"Are you sleeping with him?"
"Uh... kind of a jerk. I guess. Not really. Hell no!" On and on they went. So many questions that they all blurred together, and I had to force myself out of the horde before I got trampled. "Look, I don't want to cause any more trouble than I already have." I moved to a serving dish and started to fill it with plates. "Why don't we get ready before His Majesty," I rolled my eyes, sticking my tongue through my teeth, which caused the group to giggle and laugh, "finds something else to complain about?"
At my insistence, everyone went back to their tasks. Some went in and out of the serving room door and back into the dining room, but I didn't dare go back in there. Not now. Luke came up to my side to help me ladle soup into bowls.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Ericka. I'd be careful if I was you."
“Believe me.” I glanced up from what I was doing and gave him an incredulous smile. "It's not a game I want to be playing. He picked me for some gods forsaken reason, and I'm just trying to survive." I filled another bowl full of the simmering pumpkin soup that smelled to die for before adding a basil leaf for garnish to the center. "Maybe he'll get bored soon and find someone else to pick on."
"I doubt it.” Luke snorted. “If the king is anything, it's persistent and stubborn. He won't stop until he gets what he wants." He grabbed my arm to stop me from my task, his eyes serious as they bore into mine. "If I were you, I'd just give it to him. You'll be happier for it. And safer."
A weak smile slid over my face as I placed my hand on top of his. "I wish I could, but where he is stubborn, I'm worse. I don't abide by bullies, and if the king is anything, he's the biggest bully of them all."
"He's not that bad.” Rolling his eyes, Luke lifted his shoulders in a noncommittal way. “I mean, once you know to stay out of his way. Life here can be quite pleasant, if not fun."
I narrowed my eyes on him and placed a hand on my hip. "He made a laundry girl cry because she didn't iron his shirt clockwise instead of counterclockwise."
Luke winced. "Well, everyone has their quirks. Can you blame him?"
“Yes.” I went back to ladling, being even more forceful than before. "Yes, I can."
"Uh... Ericka?" The sprite from earlier stuttered her long green lashes fluttering. She fiddled with her hands and ran a hand through her grass green hair. “His Majesty is asking for you.”
I frowned at her and then nodded. After wiping my hands on a nearby towel, I moved toward the door.
The sprite stopped me. “And his soup.”
I stopped in my tracks before turning back to the table. Picking up one of the bowls, I would be lying if I didn’t say that I was more than tempted to spit in it, but I held back. With a forced smile, I turned on my heel and walked through the dining room door.
Unlike before, the table was full of guests and the room full of their chatter. There were talking about something frivolous like getting silks from the Autumn Court. I held back the urge to roll my eyes and walked slowly to the head of the table where King Balefire sat.
He didn’t look my way as I stood next to him, and I waited for him to move so I could sit his bowl down. Balefire laughed at something a pretty woman to his right said before replying.
“The thing with humans is that you have you train them right or they will run all over your kingdom.” His eyes flickered up to mine with a hint of a smile. “Like gnats.”
Anger spiked in me, and I want to say that my hand slipped or that the bowl got too hot. But really, I wanted to do it.
I let the bowl slip from my hands and into Balefire’s lap. His roar of pain and the cries from the other table occupants made my hackles go up, and before I could stop myself, I was rushing out of the door.
I was starting to think I really did have a death wish.
Chapter 8
Balefire
Rage. Unadulterated rage poured through my being. I stood there in the dining room before my guests and friends, shaking with that primal fury. The hot soup did not even register to my mind anymore, my anger totally overwhelming any feelings of pain.
That human. That ungrateful, petulant human woman.
How dare she? Who did she think she was? She thought she could just disrespect me in such a way and run for it?
What she did could be constituted as treason for attempting harm on me. Not that she had probably thought through it that much. I knew my comments were getting to her, and I'd said them for her benefit.
However, I hadn't expected her to step so far out of line as to dump soup on me, though I doubted the rest of the room saw it that way. They probably thought it had been an accident, but I'd seen it. I'd seen the anger in her eyes the second before the soup slipped out of her hands. This was no accident. I wanted to throw my head back and laugh in my fury, but I couldn't, not now. Not in front of our guests.
"Are you alright, Your Majesty?" Lady Nico of the Summer Court timidly offered me a napkin as if that would help clean the hot liquid soaking into my pants at that moment.
I resisted the urge to snarl at her. Instead, I took in a long breath before turning a grateful smile her way. "Ye
s, thank you, Lady Nico. I apologize for the interruption to your dinner. Some servants are harder than others to train." As I spoke, Finch jumped in from my left and rushed to my side.
"Yes, it takes weeks to get a servant up to par with our standard of service. It was our mistake for putting a novice in charge of serving this evening." He shot a disapproving look in my direction which I ignored. "Please excuse us while His Majesty gets cleaned up." He pulled my chair back, but I waved him off with a barely suppressed growl.
"Oh, please don't worry on our account," Lady Nico assured us with a hand to her chest and a flutter of her lashes. "Perhaps I could help you clean up? It's the least I could do for having received us, Your Majesty."
Huh. Lady Nico had been nothing but timid and quiet the whole meal. Demure would be what I'd have described her the most. Most boring. I needed more spark to my women, not someone who would scrape and bow for my affections. Now, I saw that meekness was all a ploy. To so blatantly offer herself to my service for such an intimate task showed she had more backbone than I thought.
Unfortunately, I had other ideas.
"No, thank you, Lady Nico. I have some urgent work to attend to." I offered her a charming smile. "A leader's work is never done. Please, enjoy your meal without any further disruption." I glanced over at Luke as I spoke, which made the faun flinch.
Finch placed his hand on my back as if to guide me out of the room, but in all actuality, it was a way to remind me that I was still in public and could not lash out just yet. We walked at a fast pace out of the dining room and into the hallway. The further away from the dining room we got, the more my anger flared back to life. Servants and nobles who loitered in the hallways took one look at my face and fled. I could imagine the sight of me, but I didn't care. I only had one person on my mind right now.
The human.
I tried to change my course toward where I knew Finch had placed her, only a few rooms away from mine. A room far to lavish for a servant. I'd hoped the other servants would have tortured her more for me because of that very reason, but it seemed as if I had miscalculated my own staff's viciousness. If the human had enough spirit to dump soup on me in the middle of a public dinner, then I'd done a poor job at killing that part of her, something I would correct right now.
