by ERIN BEDFORD
Except Jasmine.
Her aqua skin had paled as I confronted the king, and now, her pallor wasn't any better. She grabbed the tray Balefire had left on the counter and dumped the broken glass into the garbage bin. The loud clanking of dishes reverberated off the wall, making me flinch. I kept my eyes down and my hands busy as everyone wondered what the hell had just happened.
The heck if I knew.
The sight of Balefire after all this time hadn't lessened the sudden desire I'd begun to feel for him. That gorgeous face, those bright blue eyes, sparkling at me as he tried to get a rise out of me. He'd almost got one too.
His invitation to finish what we had started had done nothing short of light my body on fire. It had taken everything in me not to jump at his offer. While Balefire had done his best to avoid me, I'd done my darndest to push him from my mind.
However, once bitten and all that. I couldn't pretend not to be affected by his presence anymore. Even the mention of his name caused my body to react and my heart to race. I'd even caught myself smiling inappropriately when he was mentioned in passing.
This time, however, there were witnesses, and the thought of the fae and humans around me had been enough to keep me grounded. It hadn't been enough to keep me from smarting off though. I couldn't seem to help myself when it came to the king. My mouth ran away from me, and then next thing you know, I'm telling him to go shove it.
"Ericka," Jasmine stopped next to me, one hand on her hip and the other on the counter beside me. "What has gotten into you? Do you want him to send you back to the bog, or worse, behead you?'
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "He's not going to do either. Don't worry so much, Jasmine." I lifted a flour-covered hand to her face and patted it with a grin. "You'll get wrinkles on that beautiful face."
Batting my hand away with a scowl, Jasmine shook her head at me. "You are playing with fire, Ericka. The king might be entertained by your defiance right now but believe me he will get bored easily." She paused, then placed her hands on my shoulders and turned me. Those large cerulean eyes narrowed on me. "And now that he seems to not only want to punish you but bed you, you must be ever the more vigilant. Men, fae or human, only chase a woman for so long, and once they catch you, it's over."
"Then I best not let him catch me, eh?" I winked as I grinned at her, then twisted out of her grasp to continue my task of flattening the dough for the latest batch of pies. While the king had been pleased by my meals, I was still limited to pies and quiches. Jasmine offered to help me to expand on that. The soup had been one of the first new creations that had gone well.
When Balefire showed up and said he enjoyed my food, it took everything I had not to jump up and down in glee. Jasmine and the others had tasted my soup before they gave it to the king and had assured me it was great but hearing it from someone as critical like Balefire it warmed my heart.
If only my mother and father could see me now.
I let out a long sigh. My parents would never come here, not to see me working or just for a visit. Boggsville might not be the best place in Elphame, but it was their home and they didn't want anywhere near the palace or the king. If Balefire and his family had taught them anything, it was to keep your distance from the royal fae, and you'll live longer. I probably should have taken their warnings to heart, but I couldn't help it. I wanted to get out of Boggsville. I wanted to see the whole of Elphame not just the palace, though working for the king was a step in the right direction.
Now, to see the rest of the palace.
"So," I laid out the dough in the preprepped pan and picked up the bowl of raspberry filling, "where's a good place to have a picnic? I haven't been out of the palace since I got here. I think it's high time I got out of here."
Jasmine wrinkled her nose and took the bowl of filling from my hands. "Why would you want to do that?" She tipped the bowl and poured it into the pan. "It's much safer here. In the kitchen." Shifting the pan so the filling laid out evenly, Jasmine narrowed her eyes at her work. "Besides, there are many places that are off limits to servants, especially humans."
I held the dough that would be the top crust of the pie out and slowly laid it across the top of the pan. I worked on pinching the edges of the dough into the sides. "Safe or not, I can't just stay in my room or the kitchen forever. I need to get out. Breath fresh air. Doesn't the palace have a garden or something."
Jasmine didn't answer. Her eyes darted to that of Sybil and Daphne, two of the other servants who worked in the kitchen. Both fae had matching worried expressions on their brown faces, their beady brownie eyes pinched at the sides. Sybil lifted her shoulders at Jasmine and Daphne, crossed her arms, and jerked her head from side to side. Turning back to me with a sigh, Jasmine took the finished pie and handed it off to Sybil to put in the oven.
"There's a garden on the east wing of the palace,” the nymph told me, “but normally, none of us would be allowed over there since it belongs to the king."
Her warning fell on deaf ears. All I heard was garden and east wing. The fact that it belonged to the king didn't matter to me. Who owned flowers? They were living things, not something you could just lock away and never share with others. Besides, the king needed a bit of disruption in his life, and I was just the human to do it.
"Well, I'm going to make myself a picnic and check out the garden." I moved to the cabinet and pulled down the things I would eat for my lunch. I glanced over my shoulder at the others staring at me with a mixture of horror and fascination. "You're welcome to join me."
Daphne turned away, going back to work on cutting vegetables for lunch. Jasmine frowned hard, her cerulean colored brows bunched so tight they looked attached to one another. The only one who seemed remotely interested in coming with me was Sybil.
The brownie shifted in place, her eyes darting to the others. They settled on Jasmine as if asking for permission to go. Jasmine lifted her shoulders and shrugged. Sybil's lips quirked up in a smile.
"I'm coming with you." Sybil bounced across the kitchen. She pulled out a basket from beneath the counter and piled the food I'd pulled out into it.
While Sybil and I worked on our own lunch, the others went back to working on the king's meal, every once in a while shooting us a worried but curious look. While it was our duty to help make the food for the palace, we were entitled to a lunch break ourselves. Besides, I'd already made the pie. My work was done.
"Are you sure you want to come with?" I whispered to Sybil out of the corner of my mouth. "I don't want to get you in trouble."
"Of course!” Sybil beamed, her dark eyes almost disappearing from the crinkling of her eyes. “I've never been to the garden in the east wing, and I never turn down a chance to explore."
"Your curiosity is going to get you both killed." Jasmine stopped cutting the bread in front of her and pointed the knife at us with a jut of her hips. "Ericka might have the king's eye, but you are just cannon fodder."
The grin on Sybil's face diminished slightly, but I wrapped an arm around the brownie and squeezed her to my side.
"Don't worry, I won't let the big bad fae king hurt you." I winked at her. "Besides, what's he going to do? Feed us to Shirazan for looking at some flowers? He's not that barbaric."
Sybil let out a shaky laugh as she exchanged a nervous look with Jasmine. After a few moments, she came to a decision. Sighing long and hard, she pushed a smile back onto her face.
"You're right. It'll be fine."
“Great!” I squeezed her one last time and released her. "Let's go. I'm starved."
After closing the top of the basket, I hauled our goods into my arms. As I brushed by Jasmine to go out the door, she caught my arm, so I twisted back to meet her gaze with a soft smile.
"Don't worry, we'll be fine. And if not," I lifted the lid of the basket and held up a container which held my very special mini quiches I'd saved for such an occasion, "I'll ply him with these and make my escape."
Jasmine pursed her lips before jerkin
g her head shortly. She released my arm and turned back to her work. Relief filled my chest. Turning to Sybil, I grinned.
"Come on, the day is getting away from us."
After giving the room one last look, Sybil wrung her hands but followed me out of the kitchen. I should have felt bad for bringing her along with me. Just because I didn't seem to have a healthy sense of self-preservation didn't mean that I had to screw others up too. Then again, I didn't want to go alone, and Sybil seemed like she might be a great friend. I needed one of those right now.
"So," I began as we walked down the hallway toward the east wing, "how long have you been at the palace?"
Sybil dropped her hands, and her nerves seemed to fade away at my question. "I've always lived here."
"Really?" I arched my brows. "I didn't know any of the servants lasted that long."
"Why would you think that?" She giggled, covering her mouth with her hands.
I shrugged and frowned. "Everyone thinks the royals go through servants like sirens go through mates. I figured there wouldn't be any children growing up here."
"Not at all.” Sybil grinned and shook her head. “The king and his family might have a temper, but most of us know how to keep our heads down and not make waves." She paused for a moment, her eyes moving around the hallway to nod and smile at other servants who passed by. Each of them greeted her by name and were happy to see her. Curious indeed. "My great-grandmother was one of the first families of brownies to come work for the royals. Before her, we weren't even allowed near the palace." Her lips dipped down for a second as she remembered. "If you think humans weren't wanted, brownies were just as disregarded as humans, maybe more so."
"Why's that?" I cocked my head to the side, curious to hear her story. I never knew the history of brownies. I thought they were just as well liked as any other fae. Apparently, I was wrong.
"Most fae think we are good for nothing more than cleaning up messes.” Sybil scowled as she tossed her pitch-black hair over her shoulder. “That our brains don't work unless we have a rag in our hands." Her voice filled with annoyance as she continued. "No one ever thinks that we have actual thoughts and feelings. We don't all just want to scrub the toilets and floors. Some of us have other aspirations."
My ears perked up. "Like what? What do you like to do?"
Sybil stopped before a pair of glass double doors, not answering right away. The glass of the doors was painted in gorgeous roses and vines with thorns pointed out from the sides. Even though it was just a painting, the thorns were sharp enough that I feared that I’d prick my finger if I touched them.
Turning her head toward me, Sybil held her arm out and lifted the other arm as if she were stroking something against her arm. "I love to play the violin. If I had the choice, I would play across all of Elphame." A dreamy expression covered her face, her eyes looking far off at nothing at all. Then just as suddenly as she had begun, she dropped her hands and sighed, dejected. "But it won't happen, not in my lifetime. I'm nothing but a kitchen maid. No one would listen to me play the violin."
I placed my hand on her arm. Her dark eyes lifted to meet mine, and I smiled.
"No one should give up on their dreams. If you don't go for it, who will?" My smile broadened. "Do you think I got here because I listened to my parents who wanted me to stay safe and sound in the home they built? Where I would lead the exact same life as them?" Dropping my hand, I reached for the door handle and winked. "If I can change my future, so can you."
"Thanks, Ericka. I really appreciate it."
As I pulled the garden door open, I laughed. "Don't thank me yet. We both might not live through this adventure to see either of our dreams come true."
Chapter 14
Balefire
I tossed my pen down on my desk. Damn the banshees to the depths and back. Never again. Next time I’d let Finch handle the lot of them and save me a headache or two.
After two hours of negotiations and a few broken windows, I finally pulled an agreement out of the lot of them. The banshees would move into the western territory and would be allowed to hunt amongst the woods for wayward souls with the contingency that they leave the locals alone. Whether or not they obeyed the rules set for them...we’d know in the future.
But not today.
Today, I was free from listening to their wails and threats of war. I pushed my time sitting in the court off on Finch to handle and now had the next few hours free. Freedom that I would take full advantage of.
At first, my feet had directed me toward the kitchen. I didn’t even realize where I’d gone until I stood before the swinging door. Thankfully, I stopped myself before going in.
Ericka had made herself clear. She didn’t want to see me. She didn’t want anything to do with me. And why should she? I’d been an utter beast to her and then tried to flip it on her like nothing had happened. It would take far more than a few compliments and an almost kiss to win her over, I could see that now.
But what? What did a human woman like Ericka enjoy?
“Bartholomew,” I barked to my clergy, who sat nearby on the other side of my desk waiting for my command. The willowy druid stood at attention at my summons.
“Yes, Your Majesty?” His raspy voice made his words crackle like the wood of a fire. “How can I be of service?” He stood from the seat across from my desk, bending at the waist so that the bark color of his hair fell over his sharp angled face.
“If you were trying to woo a woman... say, a human woman...” I trailed off as Bartholomew lifted his head. Though he fought it, the druids lips twitched as if he wished to smile.
Knowing better, Bartholomew smoothed his expression out before answering. “Humans are quite different than fae. Fae women would swoon over a show of power, defeating one of her enemies, or perhaps a magical—”
“Thank you,” I growled to cut him off, “but I did not ask for a lesson in our own species mating rituals.”
“My apologies, Your Majesty.” Bartholomew bowed so quick he almost knocked his head into the desk.
I waved my hand and made a rumbling scoff. Running a hand down my face, I gestured for Bartholomew to stand again.
“Humans, Bartholomew?”
With a pale face, Bartholomew lifted his head and twisted his lips to the side. “Humans are complex creatures.”
A snort escaped me.
“Yes, it is true that they lack a certain civility and follow their baser instincts,” Bartholomew quickly explained his expression becoming more strained at each word. “Their outlook on mating are far more...” He struggled for the word.
Sighing in annoyance, I grunted. “Stupid?”
Coughing a laugh, Bartholomew nodded. “In a word.” He shuffled in place, placing one hand over the other before shifting again. “Each human has their own thoughts and feelings on love.”
A barking laugh from me startled Batholomew into a step back.
“Love?” I scoffed. “There is no love but that of your family and even then, it is limited.” Placing my hands on my desk, I leaned forward and met Batholomew’s gaze, which he dropped to the ground instantly. “Tell me how to win her affections, love doesn’t matter.”
The druid flinched but didn’t comment. Smart man.
“Even if...” He coughed into his fist and continued with hesitancy. “Perhaps, you might make your intentions clear to her... this human. It would go over better than her finding out your affections are not the same...”
I snarled in warning.
Bartholomew hiccupped. A tiny little squeaking sound that almost made me smile, but I forced a frown onto my lips.
“Well,” I waved a hand at him, “get on with it.”
Clearing his throat, the druid licked his lips. “Find out what she likes and give it to her. Chocolates. Trinkets. Flowers.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth and turned his head to the side, muttering low enough I knew he didn’t mean me to hear it. “Promises of love.”
Ignoring the last words, I lifted my e
yes to the ceiling in thought.
“She enjoys baking. Making things with her hands.” I braced myself on the desk and glanced down. “I cannot give those things to her because she already has them.”
“Then perhaps, something she doesn’t have?”
I frowned. Something she doesn’t have. What could that possibly be?
Seeing my confusion, the druid began to sigh but then caught himself. “Why doesn’t his majesty think beyond material items? She’s a human and one from the bog at that. There are bound to be some experiences she hasn’t been exposed to yet.” He rolled his hands in front of him as if to prompt me to figure out whatever kind of experience he was talking about.
“Spit it out already, you damn druid,” I shouted, a growl in my chest and throat. The druid tensed and slapped his hands down to sides in response, and his fingers curled into the sides of his pants.
With wide eyes, the druid closed his gaping mouth before sputtering out, “The gardens.”
“The gardens?” I cocked my head to the side and frowned, crossing my arms over my chest. “What about them?”
Bartholomew licked his lips. “They are closed to the general public. Servants included. Perhaps you might sway your lady by giving her a—”
“Personal tour. Yes,” I mused, tapping my chin with my finger. “Brilliant idea. Yes, a tour of the gardens might just be what I need to get on the good side of the human.”
Bartholomew stood there staring at me, smart enough to keep his mouth shut while I was musing out loud. Getting annoyed by the mere presence of him, I waved him off.
“You’re dismissed.”
Sagging in relief, Bartholomew bowed quickly before darting out the door.
Alone at last, I didn’t waste any time. Leaving everything on my desk where it was, I headed for the door. First, I needed to make sure the garden was in the best shape for our tour. Perhaps, I would have Jasmine prepare a picnic to go along with our experience. With a little magic and a lot of luck, hopefully I would get Ericka into my bed and out of my head once and for all.
