The Beast of the Fae Court

by ERIN BEDFORD

  Some jobs you simply had to do personally.

  "Hold on now," Finch stepped in front of me his hands up in between us. "You can't just go in there. Not like this. You'll kill her."

  "No, I won't." I snarled and shoved him to the side, but the little pest wouldn't leave me alone.

  "Yes, you will," Finch pointed out with a no-nonsense glower. He placed himself between me and the human's door, his arms crossed over his chest as if that would be enough to stop me. "Think about this for a moment. As far as anyone else is concerned, it was an accident. If word gets out that you're killing servants for the slightest offense, we'll be making our own breakfast come morning."

  I paused. He had a point. I'd done well to keep my rage under control and only showing the beast inside when the need arose. Killing a human servant, though, wouldn't look good for me at all, especially for those not completely clued into what actually happened.

  Grinding my teeth, I glared at the door once more and then back to Finch. "Fine. The human lives... but she must be punished."

  Finch sighed in what could be called relief. He lifted his shoulders and shook his head.

  "I don't know why you continue to torture the girl,” he murmured. “If I'd been in her place, I'd have dumped soup on you too, but I'd have aimed for your head."

  I rolled my eyes and turned on my heels to head back toward my bedroom door. I smelled of pumpkin. I hated pumpkin. Why did the cook even make this? Making a note to myself to speak with the head cook tomorrow about the menus, I pushed my bedroom door open.

  Finch followed in after me, rambling something about not being so hard on the human. Pfft. Like that would happen. I would break her. It was only a matter of time.

  "If you wish to punish her, make it a private punishment,” Finch continued, moving over to my desk and lifting up a piece of paper to skim over. “One that doesn't involve public eyes to witness."

  I wasn't worried about Finch going through my things. We had no secrets. He knew me inside and out. The good and the... ugly. Plus, I trusted him with my life. I wouldn't have made it through puberty had it not been for him. I needed him on my side, but for some reason, the human has caused this rift between us. With me on one side and Finch and her on the other. I didn't like it. Not at all.

  "What do you suggest I do?" I growled, pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it toward the hamper. I missed. I worked on my boots and pants next while Finch moved across the room and picked up my discarded shirt to put it where it belonged.

  "Perhaps a tedious punishment,” Finch suggested. “Have her clean the gutters or run errands for the palace. Gods know that the servants hate those the most." His eyes twinkled as he thought about it, but none of those were punishments fitting for the humiliation I'd endured. I tossed my ruined pants toward the basket as well, and an idea hit me.

  "No," I rumbled which caused Finch to pause and frown. "Bring her to me." A slow, malicious grin slid up my face. "She made this mess. She can clean it."

  Finch gaped at me in astonishment for a moment or two before he finally said something. "You can't be serious."

  "Oh, I am." I grinned even wider. Standing there nude with my hands on my hips, I stared him down. "She humiliated me. Now, it's her turn. Tit for tat."

  "But, but," Finch sputtered trying to come up with some kind of response. "You have legions of women who would love to help you bathe. Willing women. In fact, Lady Nico offered that very thing. Why do you not request her presence, instead?" My adviser tried to sway me from my decision, but I wouldn't be moved.

  "Precisely," I retorted as I crossed my arms and leaned against the banister of my bed. "That human woman despises me. She wouldn't want to come within five feet of my bathing chamber. It will be the perfect form of punishment for her. She'll be humiliated and hopefully humbled into being the respectful human servant as she should be for the sake of never having to do it again."

  I chuckled to myself. It really was the best punishment I could have come up with. If manual labor didn't do it, then putting her in this position would definitely do it. Perhaps I'll even suggest she bathe me regularly. My grin only grew on my face.

  Finch made a disbelieving sound and my head jerked up to meet his gaze.

  "You are walking a fine line here, Balefire." He shook his head with a sigh.

  "Why do you say that?"

  Moving toward the door, Finch glanced back at me. "So far, she has reacted in a completely surprising manner to everything you've thrown at her. I do not think she will sway from her path as easily as you do."

  "You don't know women the way I do," I scoffed.

  This time, it was Finch's turn to laugh. "No, Your Majesty. You don't know women the way I do."

  "You're a womanizer. I would hardly call you an expert on women. Perhaps on fucking them but not on their minds or feelings." I waved him off and headed for the bathing chamber. "Leave that to me."

  I could feel Finch smiling at my back, but I ignored him. Turning the knobs on the bathtub, I watched as the water poured out of the faucets. Indoor plumbing was a miraculous thing indeed. Far better than boiling water or using magic to warm my bath. I waited until the tub was halfway full then stepped into the steaming hot water.

  Leaning my head back on the edge of the metal tub, I sighed. This was the life. Give me a quiet bath and I could die in bliss. I let my eyes droop down as I sunk further into the bath.

  A bump on the side of the tub me jarred into a sitting position. I glared up to see Finch's smirking face, and I wiped a hand over my face to dry it.

  "You're still here? I thought I sent you to get the human."

  "I will." Finch beamed down at me, his hands on the edge of the tub. "I just had one question for you."

  "Get on with it,” I groaned in annoyance and tossed my hand in his direction. “I know you will anyway."

  Finch wasn't at all hurt by my words. In fact, they only amused him more.

  "I wonder, what will you do if Ericka doesn't run screaming into the night? What will you do... if she likes it?"

  His words and laughter stayed with me as he walked out of the room. What if? No. She couldn't. Wouldn't. Would she?

  Chapter 9

  Ericka

  I was dead. I was so dead. I was so completely dead that they were probably planning my funeral back home. No, they wouldn't even do that. I had shamed my family with my stupidity, so they wouldn't even dream of acknowledging my existence with a funeral.

  Why did I have to dump the soup in his lap? What the hell was I thinking?

  I glared down at my traitorous hands. The hands that had gotten me into this whole mess. If I could cut the offending things off, I would, but blood made me a bit squeamish. Just the thought of it made my stomach roll. Instead, I shoved the deplorable appendages into my armpits and paced the floor of my soon-to-be ex-room.

  Ever since I'd arrived at the palace, no, ever since I'd seen the king's smug face as Angus, I had done nothing but act out. I wasn't that person. I was meek and accommodating.

  Okay, that was a lie. I was only that way when I wanted to be, which usually was ninety-five percent of the time. It made life easier, especially in a world that didn't particularly care for my kind. Humans were tolerated at best, beaten and killed at worst.

  Why in all the gods did I hate Balefire so? It's not like he did anything to me. I was the one who put a pie in his face, not the other way around. Of course, he would want retribution for such an act. The fact that he hadn't just asked for my head right then and there was concerning. Now that I knew that our just and fearsome king had a cruel side he was just hiding from the rest of the court, I should have tried to get fired immediately... or at least tried to run away.

  The dragon. What about the dragon? I gulped and placed a hand over my throat. The kitchen staff said something about him having a dragon in the basement. Would he feed me to her? What was it they called her again?

  Shirazan. Yes, that was it. I was for sure going to be her dinner n
ow or worse. Maybe he'd boil me alive in the very soup I'd dumped into his lap.

  I hugged myself as I paced faster. I couldn't handle pain, not that kind. I'd pass out and drown in it before it even got to the boiling point, I was sure of it.

  No. There was only one thing I could do.

  I had to run.

  My mind set, I rushed to my wardrobe. I pulled out the measly possessions I owned and found my bag I'd come with at the bottom of the wardrobe. After shoving my clothes into the bag, I turned to the room. My eyes caught sight of myself in the mirror, and I gazed at the beautiful serving dress I'd been given. It wasn't technically mine. I shouldn't keep it. However...

  Without thinking on it anymore, I started for my bedroom door. My hand reached for the handle, and at that very moment, a firm knock sounded. Startled, I jumped back from the door and clutched my bag to my chest.

  They had come for me!

  My breathing came faster now, and my heart pounded in my chest so hard that it sounded like a herd of stampeding hippogriffs. Twisting around, I sprinted across the room and to the open window. I poked my head out of the opening and glanced down at the ground. It was at least a forty-foot drop. I might survive, but I'd be hurt, possibly enough that I wouldn't even be able to escape.

  The knocking became incessant. I chewed on my lower lip, trying to decide if scaling the palace walls was an option. Just when I was about to say fuck it and take my chances, Finch's voice called out.

  "Ericka?" Finch paused before continuing when I didn't answer. "No one is going to hurt you. I promise. You are safe here." He muttered something that I didn't catch which didn't make me feel any safer despite his words. "Please, open the door, Ericka."

  "Go away," I yelled out, one leg over the side of the window. My hesitation at the fall was what ruined it all. If I'd just taken the leap, gritted my teeth, and bore with it, then it would have all been over. I'd have been well on my way home and out of the wicked king's grasp. Unfortunately, that didn't happen.

  The door to my bedroom burst open and startled me. That caused me to sway and start to lean out the window, releasing a squeak of terror from my lips. Finch was at my side in an instant. His hands wrapped around my waist and dragged me back into the room.

  "No, let me go," I cried out and beat my fists against his chest. "Just let me go."

  Finch took my beating until he had me several feet from the window, then his hands grasped mine.

  "I will not let you kill yourself for this,” he said firmly. “I cannot have that on my conscience. I have enough there already."

  Tears burned my eyes as I shook in place, realizing my weak human body was useless against the fae before me. "Just kill me already and get it over with then. I won't be subjected to anything that would shame my family."

  Finch sighed and rubbed his hands up and down my shoulders trying to calm me. It didn't work. Making a shushing sound, he brushed the tears from my face and tipped my chin up with his hand.

  "No one is killing anyone today," he assured me.

  "But I—"

  Finch cut me off with a shake of his head and a smirk. "His Majesty doesn't kill people for accidents."

  "But it wasn't an accident," I argued, though the smarter part of me wondered if I had lost all my brain cells by pointing it out. Something in Finch's expression told me it didn't matter. "You knew it wasn't, didn't you?"

  Finch released me and took a step back. With a shrug, Finch glanced toward the door. "His Majesty can be a petulant child at times. He goaded you on purpose. His only mistake was thinking you wouldn't retaliate."

  My terror morphed into anger. "I knew it!" I jerked a finger into the air. "I knew he was saying those horrid things just to piss me off."

  "Yes, well, His Majesty doesn't always think things through. I had thought he was going to finally choose a mate, but it seems that it was all a ruse to torture you some more. Seems we were both disappointed tonight." Finch sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. "As it is, you will be punished." I opened my mouth to argue, my eyes darting to the open window once more. "Though it won't be death or anything that extreme, so no more climbing out the window." He narrowed his eyes at me, wagging his finger in my direction. "The last thing we need right now is servants plunging to their deaths. You have no idea how much paperwork that involves."

  I huffed a laugh. I couldn't help it. He just sounded so dejected about having to fill out paperwork from me killing myself. Then against my will, my huff turned into a full-on belly laugh, one that Finch joined me in.

  After a few moments, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and took large breaths as I calmed somewhat.

  "So, what menial task does his majesty have lined up for me now?” I asked. “Wash all the windows in the palace? Clean out the stables? Polish his crowns?"

  Finch winced as I named the items off. "Actually, you won't be doing any of those things. His Majesty wishes to punish you privately."

  My stomach dropped down to my butt at the prospect of being punished privately. It could only mean something horrendous, something that no one in court would ever allow him to do and get away with it. The urgent need to escape came back in full force, and my eyes drifted over to the window once more.

  "P... privately," I stuttered out, trying to figure out how I'd reach the window without Finch grabbing me first. "What do you mean, privately?"

  Sighing, as if he were completely put out by the prospect of explaining the king's punishment to me, Finch lowered his tone, which in all honesty, made it only that much worse.

  "For the humiliation you have bestowed upon him in front of his peers, he will bestow back to you tenfold."

  Humiliation? What could that mean? Sure, I'd probably embarrassed him by dumping soup on him in front of his guests, but could he have really felt that strongly about it? I mean, it wasn't like it was his fault or anything. What could he possibly want me to do, or worse, do to me that would be humiliating?

  I didn't consider myself a very proud human. It was hard to be proud of what you were when everyone around you was so extraordinary. I'd had my case of green jellies a time or two. Most of us humans just became used to the fact that we were nothing but ordinary, less than that in fact. There would always be a fae more beautiful, faster, better at anything we could do, and there was nothing we could do about it. So, my level of pride was already pretty low. I wasn't sure what the king thought he could do to make us even.

  "What exactly does His Majesty want me to do?" I wrung my hands in front of me, my face the optimum point of concern as I waited Finch's reply.

  Finch seemed to hesitate to tell me, but finally, with great reluctance, he took a deep breath.

  "You made the mess, you clean it up," was all he said.

  "That's it?" I frowned as I lifted my hands up at my sides and almost got excited for a moment. "I have to clean up the mess I made? Not that I'm looking a gift kelpie in the mouth, but I didn't expect such an easy task." I paused for a moment and hummed. "The king really doesn't know much about humans, does he? Because as far as humiliation, that's not even up there on the top ten list. I expected some boot licking or toilet cleaning at least."

  Finch was abnormally quiet, allowing me to rant as I willed. When I finally stopped talking and turned to the door, he grabbed my arm.

  "It's not that simple, Ericka."

  I arched a brow. "It isn't?"

  "No, it's not. You aren't just simply going to clean up the dining room mess. You have to clean the whole mess." He stared me down, clearly expecting me to catch on to what he was saying.

  Growing impatient with all the cryptic crap, I threw up my hands and sighed.

  "Just say it already. I might not be dumb, but I have no idea what you're talking about. What other mess would I clean up but the... dining room..." I trailed off, and my mouth slowly fell open. No. He couldn't mean... That's preposterous. Why on Tatiana’s teat would the king want me to clean him up as well?

  "You can't be serious." I sho
ok my head as I backed away from him. "I can't do that. Doesn't he have concubines or something for that?"

  "He wants you to do it," Finch pointed out with what looked like an apologetic smile. "I don't question His Majesty's commands, no matter how asinine they are." He muttered that more to himself than to me. Then he seemed to remember himself and give me a weak smile. "It won't be all that bad. Thousands of women, fae and human alike, would kill to have this honor."

  I snorted, crossing my arms over my chest. "If it's such an honor, why is it my punishment?"

  Finch gave a noncommittal shrug.

  I thought about it for a moment. I had to help the king clean up. It couldn't be that hard. I mean, it would be just like the one time my father threw his back out. While mother ran the bakery, I helped him do everyday tasks, one of those being taking a bath. I could scrub his back... wash his luxurious royal hair... I gulped, my eyes widening as I realized what else His Majesty might make me wash.

  Without warning, I sprinted toward the bedroom window and threw my leg over. I had just gotten my other leg over the window when Finch grabbed me around the waist.

  "Oh, no, you don't."

  "Ugh. No. I'd rather break my leg. Or my neck. Maybe even my hands. Then I couldn't do it. That's it!" I turned in Finch's arms and held my hands out. "Break them. Right now. Then you can tell the king I had an accident and can't do the job."

  "Ericka." Finch gave me an exhausted smile. "If you don't do this job, he will find something else equally if not more humiliating for you. If I could give you some advice?"

  I pouted and scuffed my foot on the floor. "Do I have a choice?"

  "If you just suck it up, act absolutely boring, the king will become uninterested in you quite quickly. Then you can go about your life unhindered by all this extra... attention." Finch offered me an encouraging smile.

  "Uninteresting. Boring. Yeah, I can do that." I talked myself up, staring down at the ground as Finch led me to the bedroom door. "I just have to steel myself. Don't react. Be like those robot things in grandfather's books. Yeah, I can be as dull as a rusty sword. The king will be begging me to go back to my real job. I can do this."