by ERIN BEDFORD
Turning toward her, I crossed arms over my chest, using my size to show her I wasn’t to be manipulated or questioned. “What I do with my property is my business. Do we need to reevaluate your position here in my kingdom?”
If my threat bothered her, Shirazan didn’t show it. Her lips, colored a blood red, curved at the edges, not at all worried by my words. Her green eyes glinted though with malevolent intent.
“Of course not, my king.”
I stepped toward her and tipped her chin up with my fingers. Our eyes locked, and the battle for dominance began underneath our gazes. Auras mingled, and we pushed against one another. The lashing out and testing boundaries was more so on her side than mine. I simply waited, guard up, but not attacking her back. I wouldn’t lower myself to such an act.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shirazan conceded. Her aura withdrew, and her hand reached up to clasp the one holding her chin.
“I owe allegiance to you alone, my king.” Kissing my hand, she peered up at me from beneath her long lashes.
I didn’t answer right away, searching for the lie. Fae as old as we were learned how to bend the truth until the lie became real. Such a true lie was almost impossible to detect and even harder to call one out on it. To claim a fae would lie was one of the rudest things one could do. Unable to hold back any longer, I released her with a growl.
“Do not take my indulgence of you for granted,” I reminded her. “I might enjoy your company, but that does not mean you can push me.”
“Of course not, my king.” Shirazan fluttered her lashes at me, a demure expression on her face. It didn’t suit her. Shirazan in her humanoid form was just as petty and dangerous as her dragon one. She may show me a face of complete surrender, but I knew better than to think underneath she wasn’t rolling with anger. Spinning away from her, giving her my back, I waved a hand toward the door.
“You know your way out.”
Her presence lingered for a moment longer before she was gone. Not for long I imagined. However, that was a problem for another day.
I placed my hands on the edges of my desk and leaned against it. My eyes stared down at the papers there but didn’t comprehend what they were. When had I let my life become so complicated? Women at every turn pulling for my attention. Dignitaries thinking they could get in good with me by shoving their eligible and married daughters in my face. It was like no one believed I could do this job on my own. I had to have a queen by my side.
If only father was here.
Unfortunately, the previous king of the Spring Court was touring the human realm and helping them rebuild in ways they would never dream of. My father was a firm believer that if we rebuilt the human world, then the humans in our world would rush back like the vermin they were. His words not mine.
I knew better.
The humans have become content with their lives here. Sure, a few might go back, but many would rather stay where they knew they are safe. No one wanted to uproot their lives for a chance to live where their forefathers once did.
Did Ericka want to?
If given the chance, would she run away to the human realm and work as a baker there? She had the skills enough for it. All right, so I didn’t really know what skills she had because I hadn’t given her the chance to use them. I’d been too busy being petty and cruel to her. And for what? To get a rise from her? What was I, a hundred years old?
I scoffed at my own childishness. Crossing the room, I grabbed a pair of pants out of the wardrobe and pulled them on. Then, as I turned back to my bed, I paused. My head tilted to the door just seconds before a knock pounded on its surface.
With a long, drawn-out sigh, I walked across the room to the door and threw it open.
“What do you want now?” I said as I scowled at Finch.
Finch’s gaze skimmed over my form, the agitation in my face, and bunched up shoulders. I tried to school my features, but he knew me too well. “Went well, did it?”
I wanted to punch the smile off his smug face. Instead, I shut the door in his face. Stomping back across the room, I flopped into my desk chair. I was too wound up to sleep now.
The door opened almost as soon as I closed it, and Finch strode into the room like he belonged there. He surely did more than anyone else in the palace. Besides Shirazan, he was one of the only ones who wouldn’t get punished for it.
And Ericka.
I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought. I didn’t know where it came from, but I knew it was true. If the human randomly came into my room after today, I didn’t think... no, I knew I wouldn’t punish her. Not in the way my citizens would expect anyway.
“You should know by now that doesn’t work.” Finch stood behind me, his arms crossed as he smirked down at me.
“Doesn’t hurt to try,” I said with a shrug. I lifted the first sheet of paper and skimmed the contents, pretending to be interested in the equalization of faeries versus pixies. “What do you want? I have work to do.”
Finch leaned over my shoulder and picked the paper out of my hand. “I can see that. I can also tell Shirazan has been here.”
“So?” I forced myself to not stiffen at his musing. “Your point? She comes by often. It’s not like it’s anything new.” I shifted in my seat as I tried my best to misdirect his inquiries.
Finch snorted. “Only this time, your pet made a stop before coming to you.”
This time I did stiffen. “What do you mean?” I glanced over my shoulder to meet his gaze.
Finch stood and adjusted the arms of his coat as he walked over to my full-length mirror while picking at his hair like someone who was going to meet his lover. I swung my chair around and stared at his back, waiting for him to explain. He would eventually, he always did but only in his own time. He might be my trusted adviser, but he was a right pain in the ass. When Finch seemed satisfied with his appearance, he twisted back to face me.
“Ericka had a visitor today,” he began. “One that left her without a bed to sleep on and in dire need for a magical cleanup.”
I found myself on my feet and halfway to the bedroom door before I knew what I was doing. Finch caught my arm, stopping me in place.
“No need to rush off. She’s been relocated to the servants’ wing for the time being, and I already have someone on the cleanup. I’ll have her back in her own room by morning.”
I relaxed and shook loose of Finch’s hold. “Why didn’t anyone alert me?”
Finch stared at me hard. “I’m telling you now.”
“You should have told me the moment it happened.” Irritation filled me and I bared my teeth at him.
“Frankly, I didn’t think you'd care,” Finch mused with an arched brow. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hand on his hip, the same position he always took when he was about to lecture me. “You’ve showed no interest in Ericka other than to make her life hell. Why should I believe any different now? Not unless something happened? Something recently...”
I turned away from him, not trusting my expression. “Nothing of importance.”
“If you say so, then it must be true.” Finch hummed to himself. “But I do warn you to keep a close eye on your pet. Or you’ll be finding yourself a new baker before the current one even has her chance at the stove.”
Chapter 11
Ericka
The room Finch set me up with wasn’t as nice as the one I’d had in the king’s wing, but it wasn’t exactly Boggsville quality. The mattress didn’t sink in like a cloud, but it didn’t exactly suck.
My spine would argue differently.
I groaned as I sat up and threw my legs over the side of the small cot in my new ten-by-ten room. While yes, I could walk from one side of the room to the other in under ten seconds, it was still bigger than my room back home.
Lifting my arms above my head, I stretched until my bones cracked and my skin tingled. I grunted and limped to the small bathing chamber off to the side to relieve myself and wash my face. I was t
empted to duck my head under the cold water to wash away my lack of sleep and the scent of burned mattress that was still stuck up my nose. One look at the tub and flashes of last night came back to me full force.
Nope. No. Not gonna happen.
I just needed to clear my head. That was all. Just do something to get my mind off of him. It! Damn, I so didn’t need this. I was barely surviving here as it was. I did not need an attraction to the king added to my plate.
I glanced down at the red dress from last night and grimaced. Step one to forget all this would be getting rid of this dress.
Untying the ribbon around my waist, I pulled the dress down my arms and dropped it to the ground. After kicking it to the side with my foot, I searched for my bag of belongings I’d brought over from my old room. I just needed to get back to the basics. Get back to what I came here to do.
Bake.
That’s what I was good at, and I shouldn’t be cleaning the floors, serving dinner to foreign dignitaries, or bathing the... king. My face warmed, and a weird sensation spread through me. I shook my head to clear it.
Right. Exactly.
I should be behind the scenes. Doing what I do best. Baking.
With my mind made up, I pulled a gray dress out of my bag and pulled it over my head. I searched for a piece of twine and twisted it around my hair so that it stayed up off my neck. My hair still stunk of the fire from, last night, but I wasn’t going near the bathtub, not now. Maybe not ever.
Shoving my feet into my shoes, I walked to the door, opened it, and poked my head out. It was quiet. Everyone else must still be asleep. I padded down the hallway and glanced out of a nearby window. The dawn hadn’t even crested the horizon yet. I hadn’t been up this early since I used to prep the bread for that day’s baking.
With as much stealth as I could muster, I made my way to the kitchens. On the way, I passed a few guards rotating their shifts. We nodded in greeting and then went on our own way. No one from the kitchen staff was there when I arrived.
My fingers trailed along the center counter, and I picked up a stray knife and put it back where it belonged. Moving around the counter, I found an apron and tied it around my waist then moved on to the refrigerator. I withdrew a few items from inside and placed them on the counter, then I scrounged up a bowl and the flour before returning to the counter.
With a slight pep in my step and a song in my heart, I went about the same dance I had done all my life. A bit of milk here, flour there, a dash of salt, and my hands were deep in dough in a matter of minutes. I got lost in the movements of my hands, kneading and pulling the dough until it was pliable in my fingers.
I could get used to days like this. Getting up before dawn, having the kitchens all to myself for a change. No one demanding me to go here or do that.
And just like usual, when my fingers started to work, my mind began to work through its issues.
“It’s not like I wanted to be attracted to him,” I mumbled to myself as I grabbed a rolling pin. Scooping up a handful of flour, I rubbed it up and down the rolling pin. “Sure, he’s attractive. He’s the king of the blinking Spring Court. Why wouldn’t he be attractive?” I pushed the pin into the dough, urging it to flatten beneath my ministrations.
“I mean, if he was a slaugh, then it would be a big deal. You know, dark and evil and ready to eat your eyeballs at a moment's notice, but he’s not. He’s light and good, and okay, he’s a bit cranky, but it’s not like he can help himself. He is a fae after all. They tend to get cranky in general.” I busied myself laying the now thinned out dough into a round pan, pinching the edges as I went. “Not unless you’re a sprite. Well, depends on the sprite, I guess. That one back at the village was a right bitch. She thinks I didn’t—”
“You talk to yourself too, huh?”
My eyes jerked up. The head cook, Jasmine, stood in the doorway, hands on her generous hips and a small smile on her lips. That was something that she never had around me before.
With a nervous laugh, I picked up the bowl of filling I had set aside and tipped it into the pie crust. "It's a habit I picked up when I was a teen." A soft smile lifted my lips as the memory of how I started came to mind. "My parents were always busy with the shop, and being an only child with no friends, I had to find my own way to get my issues out." I chuckled and ducked my head as Jasmine stared at me. "Well, besides going on a mass murdering spree."
"We wouldn't want that." Jasmine came toward me, her eyes on the pan in front of me. "Sometimes this job can be lonely. This world too. Especially for humans."
"Yeah, I get that." I sighed and nodded.
"It's even worse when you work in the palace," she continued as her eyes lifted to mine. "I was the new girl once. I was one of the first actually." Jasmine paused to hand me the pan with the top of my pie crust and gave me a tight grin. "Did you know they used to have gnomes working the kitchens?"
“Really?” My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open a bit. "Gnomes?" I glanced around the room at all the high counters. "How did they even reach anything?"
Jasmine chuckled and rapped her knuckles on the countertop.
"Believe it or not everything in here is recent. This place originally looked like a miniature wonderland. First time I stepped in here, I thought I'd grown four feet." She grinned and shrugged. "Turns out the kitchen wasn't made for our size. Not like it is now."
"Oh," I mouthed, not sure what else to say. This woman had been one of the main people to make my life miserable here, and now, here she was talking to me like a normal person. It was weird. Awkward.
As Jasmine rounded the counter, I picked my pie up and walked it over to the oven. Sliding it onto the rack, I closed the door, stood, and pivoted on my heel. Jasmine stood inches from my face. A small startled sound escaped my lips, and my body froze.
"Uh, hey, did you need something? It's not quite time for everyone else to come down, but I could get started on my chores, I guess..." I trailed off and played with my hands, not sure why she was so close and staring at me so.
"No, no, don't worry about that. No more chores for you." Jasmine paused, her eyes boring into me. Her brows drew together as her lips twisted to the side. "I'm trying to figure you out, Ericka Burner. What's so special about you that has the king all flummoxed?"
“I don’t know.” I shrugged, my stomach churning with bumbleflies at the king's name. "Honestly, I'm as clueless as you are for why Balefire has taken an interest in me." I grabbed my elbow and laughed nervously. "Sure, when we first met, I hit him in the face with a pie, and then there was the soup in his lap."
Jasmine's eyes widened at the edges, and I held my hands up as panic rose up.
"It was an accident, I swear. Well," I grimaced and shrugged, "one of them was."
Jasmine was silent for a whole minute, her blue skin so pale that I thought she might disappear into thin air. I stepped toward her and waved a hand in her face.
"Are you okay?"
"No, yeah.” Jasmine shook her head and laughed before she stepped back from me. “I'm good. I'm fine. Did you really dump soup in the king's lap?"
"Yep." I popped the p at the end and inclined my head slightly. "I really did. In front of his guests too, did I mention that?"
"Wow."
"He deserved it," I pointed out with a smirk.
"Are you mental, or do you just have a death wish?"
I shrugged. "Maybe a little bit of both?"
"Well," Jasmine placed a hand on my shoulder and shook me a little bit, "whatever you're doing must be working because I've been instructed to let up on the torture. No more pot scrubbing, serving dinner, or cleaning the floors."
"Really?" I couldn't help the hope that filled my chest at the prospect of never having to clean another floor again. A bit wary of her sudden change of heart, I arched a brow and frowned. "What's the catch?"
Jasmine stepped back from me and turned to gather up the items I'd left on the counter. "No catch. King's orders. You are to do what you were
hired to do." She held the door open as she smiled at me. "Bake."
Glee spread through my chest, and I found myself hopping from one foot to the other. The chance to actually get to bake for real and not just because I needed to blow off some steam was more appealing than riding bareback across the Elphame on a unicorn. Also, I couldn’t forget the fact that I would no longer be doing the bulk of the grunt work. The only problem, the only thing that made my lips tip down in a frown, was the why.
Why now? What had I done to change the king's mind about making my life a living hell?
Flashes from last night made my face heat and my pulse jump. The slickness of the king's back, the feel of his skin beneath my hands, the strength of him. Gods, I'd never felt that way about anyone, and I hated the fae. Well, hate was a strong word, but I seriously disliked him. Balefire was a dick and a massive one at that. I shouldn't be having such naughty feelings for him. Not now. Especially, not when the situation that put me in his bathing chamber had been his fault.
If he hadn't been talking shit about humans, then I wouldn't have felt the need to dump soup in his lap. Then he wouldn't have had to punish me. That's right. It was all his fault. So, the weird attraction to him would be all on him as well. It wasn't me. I didn't want that. I certainly didn't want him.
Or did I?
"Are you okay?" Jasmine asked, concern crossing her face. "You look like you just went through every emotion there is in the span of a minute."
I swallowed thickly and pushed down the bile in my stomach. "Yeah, I'm good. Thank you for telling me." I hugged her, and she left her hands limp at her sides. "I really appreciate it. You've given me hope that I can actually make a home here."
"Well," Jasmine chuckled, patting me on the back, "let's start by not burning down the kitchen. Your pie is about to burn."
"Shit balls!" I released her and spun back around to the oven. Grabbing a towel, I opened the oven door and pulled the hot pan from the rack. I hurriedly placed it on the cooling rack set up to the side of the stove top and fanned the towel over it. I stared down at the rich golden crust and sighed in relief. It was okay. No charring.