The Beast of the Fae Court

by ERIN BEDFORD

  Oblivion never came. Wind moved around me, tickling my hair, and then the hand on my neck released me. A small cry released from my mouth as I expected to be plunged into the dragon's lair. Instead, my feet hit the stone walkway, and I settled back down onto my feet. My eyes fluttered open, my vision blurry as my lungs relearned how to breathe once more.

  Standing before me with a bewildered frown on his face, Balefire dropped his arm down to his side. He glanced between the pit and me for a few moments before something in his expression changed. Then, Balefire turned on his heels and left me there in the rose-colored tower. When he was gone, my knees crumbled underneath me, and I collapsed to the floor.

  I'd almost died. I was a hair's breadth away from dying, I'd even accepted it, but he'd just stopped. Why? More importantly, why the hell did I think that I could get away with anything? I was a human servant for God's sake and a lowly kitchen one at that. Why would the king want anything to do with me other than eat my food?

  I sat on the stone walkway and let the coolness of it beneath my hands ground me for several minutes. I didn't move from that spot until there was another ground-shaking growl that reminded me exactly where I was hanging out at. Scrambling to my feet, I darted for the door and slammed it shut behind me. I hurried up the stairs, taking them two and three at a time. All to get away from the death that might still be waiting for me.

  My lungs burned by the time I reached the top of the tower stairs, but still, I did not stop. I walked in a hurried fashion all the way across the castle and back down to the kitchens where I threw the swinging door open. Everyone stopped what they were doing when they saw me.

  Sybil who sat in the corner of the room with a tear-streaked face, blinked up at me.

  "Ericka! You're alive!" She rushed across the room and gathered me up into her arms, holding me tightly in a hug. I hugged her back with just as much enthusiasm, laughing through my tears of joy.

  "Yes, it seems I am for now."

  "You are one lucky human." Sybil giggled and leaned away from me, then hugging me close once more. "I swear you have twelve lives, just like a jackal."

  “More like a sire,” Jasmine huffed, and my eyes flew to the other fae. She wiped her hands on a cloth and came around the counter. "You could sing your way out of anything, it seems."

  “Not everything.” I stepped away from Sybil and walked slowly toward Jasmine. "I almost didn't this time."

  “But you're here, aren't you?” The head cook placed her hands on my arms and studied me. "That's all that matters."

  I sighed and shook my head as I moved away from her. "Why didn't you tell me the gardens were forbidden-forbidden? You only said no one but the royals usually go there. I would never have gone had I known."

  Jasmine dipped her head in shame. "I really thought you would be okay."

  "Why would you think that?" I gaped at her as the other servants looked on at us.

  Lifting a shoulder, Jasmine's lips ticked up for a moment before dropping. "You have the attention of the king, and no one besides that wretched dragon ever has gotten his interest the way you have."

  I was dumbfounded at her reasoning. Throwing her hands away from me, I turned around the room.

  "You are all ridiculous,” I said. “He doesn't care about me. He was more than happy to feed me to his pet dragon just for being in the gardens. That alone should prove that I'm just a kitchen maid to him. Nothing more."

  A small woman who hadn't said much the entire time I'd worked there, but I recalled her name was Margie stepped forward. She twisted her red curls in between her fingers her amber eyes burning with interest. "But you lived."

  "What?" I eyed her with confusion.

  She stepped forward and released her hair, her expression more determined than before. "You claim you are nothing special, but by standing here right now you are more than special. You faced the ire of the king and lived. That alone makes your exceptional."

  "Well, I'd rather the dragon have eaten me," I scoffed.

  "No, you wouldn't." Margie told me sharply as her eyes slashed into me. "No one would want that fate. Least of all you." Before I could ask her what she meant, she spun on her heel and stalked from the room.

  I stared after her for a moment and then glanced back toward Sybil and Jasmine. "What did I do?"

  It was Daphne who came forward this time. Her brown face flushed and her beady eyes bright with anger.

  "You were being your usual self,” she explained. “Instead of worrying about the king, why don't you worry about those who work and live with you? Like Margie." She threw an arm toward the door Margie had left through. "Her brother was eaten by Shirazan a few years ago."

  "Oh," I breathed, and then my eyes widened. "Oh! I didn't know. I should go find her."

  "No." Jasmine shook her head and took me by the arm, leading me to the counter where they were prepping dinner. "She just needs a bit of time, and you need a distraction."

  “I don’t know.” I eyed the cutting board, and the beginnings of a stew before me. "I've never been very good at stews. Besides, after my life just flashed before my eyes, all I want to do is hide in my room until the king forgets all about me."

  "Now that's a sure fire way to make sure you do die next time." Daphne snickered, bumping my shoulder as she passed by. "If anything, you should be making sure he remembers you and why."

  "But... I..."

  "She's right you know." Jasmine shot a look to Daphne and then back to me. "If I know anything about our king and men, it is that they need to be reminded why you are important, especially when they want to strangle you for being you."

  My lips twitched. "It sounds like you have had some experience in that area."

  Jasmine side-eyed me and then winked. "I haven't been head cook for three hundred years without picking up a thing or two."

  We laughed and chattered as we worked together. I wasn't sure about making the king remember why he kept me alive, but I did know that working side by side with others who loved to cook as much as I did was exactly what I needed.

  Chapter 16

  Balefire

  The clang of clashing swords filled the air of the training room. The pressure of the metal against my own blade sang up my arm, my biceps pulsating with the effort of the parry. Sweat trickled down my neck as I put myself through a vigorous workout.

  Master Simone stood across from me. His brow was relaxed with no trace of the same fatigue I was feeling. Then again, the elder elven fae trained five hours a day every day for the last eight hundred years. It would only make sense he wouldn't be as winded.

  "You are out of practice, Your Majesty," the lilted tone of his voice mocked me as he put me through my paces.

  I growled as I pushed him off and circled to his right. I lunged for him, and he easily dodged, smacking me on the backside as he went. Jumping at the contact, I narrowed my eyes on him.

  "I'm running a kingdom, I hardly have time to sleep, let alone swordplay."

  Master Simone angled his head to the side, his silvery grey hair bound up in a braid fell to the side as his matching eyes surveyed me.

  "But you found time today? Tell me," he feigned left and I fell for it, earning myself another smack to the back of my thigh, "what has you troubled?"

  I scoffed and swirled the hilt of my sword in my hand before taking up a defensive stance. "Are you my therapist now? I thought only humans did that."

  "There is no shame in clearing one's mind and heart," Master Simone explained while he lazily waited for my next move. "One cannot expect to win battles against their foes if they cannot win against themselves."

  "You know how much I hate riddles. Just say what you mean," I huffed and swung my sword at where he stood only to miss. I spun around searching for the elder fae, only to end up with a foot in my back and my face in the dirt of the training yard.

  Grunting, I quickly rolled to the side just in time to dodge the sword that was now where I had once laid. Now flat on my back, I threw m
y legs down with as much momentum as I could and lifted the rest of my body off the ground.

  Master Simone clucked his tongue at me, shaking his head. "You never were the most astute of my students. I fear you were too interested in what your father was doing than learning how to hone your mind and body."

  "Well, I can tell you, my mind is perfectly fine."

  We clashed swords once more. With something to prove, I put more strength behind my movements, trying to knock him off balance. The sly devil figured out what I was doing and slid to the side in the blink of an eye. I couldn't pull back my sword fast enough, and all that power I put into my swing had me falling toward the ground. I shifted my foot and caught myself before I ate dirt. I twisted my upper half round just as Master Simone's sword came down at me. Catching his sword with mine, I grunted as my knee buckled under me. I struggled to keep myself from falling completely while the cheeky git seemed completely unaffected.

  "You cannot hide it from me," Simone continued as if were having afternoon tea and not a battle of wills and strength. "You may believe your mind is fine, but I can see the images swirling behind your eyes. Even now." Those grey eyes squinted, peering into mine as if he could see directly into my soul. "A figure clouds your mind. A woman. She's right there in your eyes. Why don't you tell me about her?"

  Ericka.

  The very thought of her spurred me into motion. I shoved onto my feet once more with a roar, throwing Master Simone back as I swung at him over and over again. He blocked and parried my strikes with ease which only enraged me more. My attacks became more violent, more erratic as I tried to erase the image of Ericka from my mind.

  The human had become more trouble than she was worth. Every time I thought I had her figured out, she did something foolish, like trespassing in the garden. Then when I sought to punish her for her actions, she would turn it on me again. I never planned on feeding her to the dragon, I only wanted to scare her into submission. Show her that her actions had consequences, and she needed to think more sanely if she wished to survive in the palace.

  However, that had not gone as planned either.

  When I had her hanging there above the dragon's lair, I expected her to beg me for her life. To promise me anything, anything if I would only let her live. When she cried please, I thought I had finally broken through to her. She only needed one final push to get her to fully submit to me.

  I was an imbecile. As quickly as she had pleaded for her life, she changed. As if she had figured something out and was resigned to die with dignity. I could applaud her that. I myself would never beg for my life. My stubbornness wouldn't allow it, and neither would hers apparently.

  Still, when she simply stopped her clawing at my hand and went limp in my grasp, I'd almost dropped her. She had looked so peaceful, her face free of worry even with tears streaking down her face. Ericka really was an enigma, one I hoped to unravel soon before my mind went first.

  Jumping away from Master Simone for a moment to get my bearings, I tracked his movements and looked for an opening. His left hip shifted, and I narrowly dodged the pointed end of the blunt sword coming my way. It wouldn't kill me, but it would hurt like a bitch. Iron was the only true enemy of the fae. Even the smallest quantity could kill us if used in the right way.

  We parried back and forth until I grew confident in my movements. Maybe I grew too confident. I swung at him only for the bastard to disappear, and then my feet were out from under me and his sword was at my neck. Glaring up at the smirking fae, I scrubbed my hand over my mouth and grunted.

  "Perhaps, I could use a bit more training."

  "Perhaps." Master Simone sheathed his sword and offered me a hand.

  I took it gratefully, and he pulled me to my feet. As I sheathed my own sword, I walked to the side of the training room where a servant waited with a towel and a glass of water. With a grateful nod, I took the towel and wiped the sweat from my brow and neck.

  "The problem is that every time I think I'm getting two steps forward, I end up five steps back,” I mused. “I just don't know what to do."

  Master Simone approached us and took the other glass of water off the tray. He closed his eyes and mumbled a prayer before downing the glass in one gulp. With a loud sigh of pleasure, he sat the glass back on the tray and turned to me.

  "If there is anything I know in this life, it is fighting and women."

  I snorted which earned me a chastising frown. "My apologies, do go on."

  "Whatever you know about women, especially human women, forget about it." I listened to him speak as I sipped from my glass. Master Simone was anything if not sincere. "You cannot win her heart with all your posturing and elaborate schemes."

  I opened my mouth to argue, but Master Simone beat me to it. "A simple kitchen cook is not the same as a duchess." I didn't even bother asking how he knew exactly who I was talking about. It seemed I wasn't as secretive with my feelings as I thought. "The way to her heart will be the way to yours."

  I threw my head back and groaned in frustration. "Plain words, Master Simone. Please. No more riddles."

  Huffing in amusement, Master Simone poked my chest right above my heart. "Be yourself." With a slight grin, he turned and walked away.

  I stared at his back for some time with a frown. Be myself? How the hell was that going to impress her? No, he must be wrong. I'd already screwed this up royally when I lost my temper at the gardens. I highly doubted I was going to be able to get her to talk to me, let alone fall for me.

  As I walked back to my room to bath, my mind ran over the last few weeks events, from bringing Ericka to the castle to my mental torture of her. I groaned at my own foolishness. I was doomed. There wasn't a god in the heavens that could fix what I'd broken. I'd be surprised if she hadn't run for the bog by now.

  My nose crinkled at the thought. Perhaps not.

  Stopping at my bedroom door, I pushed it open and tossed my towel to the side. It landed on my desk chair with a thump. Stripping as I went, I made my way to the bathing chamber and prepared the bath. Normally, I would have a servant do it, but there was a simplicity in preparing someone's own bath, as if it made the bath that much more soothing. That was something else Master Simone taught me, the crazy riddle spouting bastard.

  Sinking into the hot water, I released a long heavy breath. All my muscles relaxed as I sank further into the tub. There was nothing like a bath to soothe the mind and the body. I let my eyes flutter close as my mind wandered.

  There had to be some truth in Master Simone’s words. However, I'd never been myself when alone, let alone around someone like Ericka. How exactly was I supposed to know what myself was? If there was anything that defined me, it would be the garden, but I'd already ruined that. Maybe I could do something else. Something that she liked instead?

  That was a new problem. What did Ericka like? I didn't know much about the woman. Being from Boggsville, she must have a high constitution. I couldn't imagine living somewhere that stunk as bad as it did. The one time we toured through the little town near the bog had been enough for me. I'd avoided it ever since, sending an emissary to gather any taxes or complaints instead.

  So, besides her upbringing, she loved to cook. Pies and quiches seemed to be her specialty though it seems that she had picked up a few more dishes since moving here. There had to be something in that I could use. Perhaps...

  "Well, well, lookie what we have here," a sultry voice crooned from the doorway.

  I cracked an eye open and turned it that way. Shirazan leaned against the door frame, her black dress clinging to her body like a second skin.

  "What do you want, Shirazan?" I sighed and closed my eyes once more. I didn't have the energy for this right now. Maybe if I wished hard enough, she would disappear. I peeked through my eyelids.

  Nope. She was still there. In fact, with a cackle-like giggle that ground in my ears like rock salt, she sashayed to the side of the tub.

  "Do I need a reason to see my lover?" Her long bony finge
rs reached out and trailed through my damp hair.

  “I’m tired.” I resisted the urge to pull back. Instead, I grasped her wrist with my hand. "Maybe another time."

  “It’s been weeks, Your Majesty.” Her lower lip poked out in a pout, and she shoved her breasts closer to me as if that would change my mind. "I thought you might have forgotten about me." Shirazan paused, and something wicked flashed behind her eyes. "Or perhaps you found a new plaything. That human cook?"

  My eyes flipped completely open. My grip on her wrist tightened for a moment as I pushed myself up and out of the tub, bringing her up with me.

  "Leave the human out of this. She's of no concern of yours."

  Shirazan's sharp green eyes fluttered down my body, a caress that I used to find appealing but now made me nauseous. With a dreamy sigh, her eyes moved back up to settle on mine.

  "You made her my business when you brought her to my lair." She flashed a fang-toothed smile.

  "That was a mistake."

  Pushing her back, I stepped out of the tub and reached for a new towel. As I released her, I wrapped it around my waist and brushed past her to the bedroom. Ignoring the feel of her eyes on my back, I flopped down into a nearby chair without a care that I was getting it wet in the process.

  Shirazan surveyed me with appreciate eyes as she swayed toward me, her hips moving in a tantalizing dance. "The only mistake was not dropping the wretched creature into it. I could have used a snack. I'm absolutely famished." She ended by dropping her knees before me, her hands on my thighs.

  The urge to push her away was strong, but I knew the dragon well. If I denied her, she would claim it to be because of Ericka and use that as an excuse to take out her competition. Any fae woman would do the same, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it, king or not. Against my better judgment, I allowed my legs to fall further apart and her hands to glide up the expansion of my thighs, her face all too close to my groin.