by Sarina Dorie
“I apologize if I overstepped. I just thought it would be nice for you to be closer.” He snagged a biscuit from the tray she was preparing.
She made to smack his hand with a spoon but missed. “You mean closer to my cooking.”
“No. It’s you I want to see,” he said. “Your cooking is just an added bonus.”
She laughed at that and shook her head.
“Being an assistant cook pays more.”
She rolled her eyes. “It will be more work.”
“Would you just think about it?” Errol didn’t press the matter, and he didn’t ask anything more.
The following week, when he went to visit her on his day off, she said, “I went to see about the position. They want me to ask the head cook here for a reference. And my employer. It seems like they’re asking for a bit much, don’t you think?”
Errol shrugged. He didn’t want to push her. He suspected if he said it wasn’t so much work, she would probably rebel against him. A week later, Alma came to visit him in the barracks with a plate of ginger biscuits filled with cacao nibs. She rarely ventured across the city, and when she had, she’d never brought him anything to eat.
“What’s this? Is it my birthday and I forgot?” he asked.
“It’s celebratory biscuits. I got the job.” She beamed.
He hugged her and congratulated her. “I knew you could do it.”
“I wasn’t convinced I wanted to work in a different kitchen. I like working for Mistress Cadwynn, even if she is strict.” Her eyes twinkled with delight. “But then I started asking them questions, and I realized they aren’t half as picky in the castle. The curfew for maids and cooks to be in their rooms is much later. And if I don’t want to use the room they provide, I can find my own lodging, and they’ll give me a stipend. The most important detail is that they won’t fire a woman for having a beau or getting married. They said they don’t mind what I do with my personal time, so long as I don’t have a man hanging around the kitchen all day distracting me.”
He stared at her, appalled. “So you’re telling me the real reason you accepted this job wasn’t because you wanted to be closer to your big brother? It’s because you have some beau?”
There wasn’t anything more important than family. He couldn’t believe Alma didn’t feel the same way.
“I don’t have anyone I fancy. Not at the moment anyway.” Her smile was mischievous, and her eyes flickered to a young man walking down the hall toward the officers’ room.
Errol supposed Alma had just needed the right incentive to look for a new occupation, though he wasn’t especially keen on her motivation being an ability to have a suitor. He could only hope the next time she fell in love, it wasn’t with some vile worm who seduced her with enchantments. He had been saving up for her in the hope she would find a nice lad and settle down in a house of her own someday. He wanted her to be settled and happy.
Yet he already had a feeling she was going to get herself in a world of trouble, and he would end up making matters worse again.
* * *
Now that Alma lived closer and worked closer, they visited each other all the time. Errol noticed how she eyed the men who worked around him with interest. For some reason, she found arrogant enlisted officers the most enticing. From past experience with Swidhun, he suspected she had a knack for picking out the troublemakers and finding them the most attractive.
He had to intervene to make sure she met the right man—preferably without accusing him of interfering. When he knew she would be calling on him and bringing biscuits with her, he made sure to surround himself with lads he liked who would be good matches for her. He took her to the cavalry ball, which was more of a country cèilidh, with bonfires next to someone’s barn. It was a prime opportunity. He introduced her to his acquaintances who he thought would treat her right.
“What do you think of Uhtric?” Errol asked. “He’s that handsome lad who asked you to dance twice.”
She shrugged. “He’s too tall. I’d have to crane my neck to look up at him.”
“How about Osbert? He took a fancy to you.” Errol nodded to the young man in question.
She shook her head. “He isn’t handsome.”
“Shadwick is handsome.” Errol suspected he was anyway. The ladies always made a fuss over him.
“He just isn’t—I don’t know—he’s nice enough. They’re all nice enough. But I don’t feel anything when I look at your friends. There are no sparks.” She gazed across the grounds at the dancers and people gathered in groups.
“Why would you want sparks? Sparks start fires. You don’t need a fire.”
“Errol! You don’t get anything at all. Love is supposed to be a burning fire that consumes you.”
He wasn’t so certain about that, but he held his tongue. She had more experiences being in love than he had. His career and his endeavors to rise in rank meant he’d had little time to pursue women. The few relationships he’d tried were fleetingly short.
“Introduce me to him.” She nodded to a Fae man with a barrel chest and a pointed beard. “Who is he?”
Errol sighed. Of course she would have to pick the most crass, arrogant, womanizing officer Errol worked with. His sister was a moth to a flame, and there was no stopping her.
* * *
While Errol tried to set his sister up with nice officers he made as friends, she returned the favor and set him up with the kitchen maids who had befriended her. Errol decided to show her he was going to be a good sport about it, in the hope that she would allow him to find her someone responsible and respectable.
“I have a schedule of young women I want you to meet, starting tomorrow,” she said. “One each day after you finish your shift. Then you can tell me whom you fancy the most, and you can court that one,” she said.
He had a feeling Alma was trying to be especially vexing, but he didn’t complain. If this was her way of torturing him for trying to set her up with a nice fellow, he would endure it.
He met with each of her friends, though sometimes he got off from his shift late, and he could tell this didn’t make a good impression on interested women.
“You’re trying to sabotage yourself, aren’t you?” Alma demanded as he sat beside her in the kitchen while she chopped herbs for a roast.
“No, I just care about my work duties. Being a guard to the royal family is a serious commitment.” Any day now, he feared he would find out what the true price of accepting his duty would be.
How could he think about courting a young woman when all he had time for was his employment?
“I’m just saying you don’t make it easy to set you up,” she chided.
Errol didn’t doubt it. After he’d met each of her friends, she’d asked him whom he liked the most. “I don’t know. I’ve only met each girl once. They all seemed nice.”
“That doesn’t help narrow it down any,” she complained.
“Then narrow it down for me. Who would be the best match for me?” he asked.
“Maggie is the prettiest and the youngest out of the lot. She’s only forty years older than you.”
He choked hearing that. Maggie looked younger than Alma, but that was the way of Fae. One could never tell who was twenty and who was two hundred. It got easier to tell who might be over a thousand years old, like the king, because they used so much glamour to look young. And if they lived that long, most had mastered complex magic that prolonged their youth and beauty. For common Fae, they were more likely to look old. Especially if they weren’t well after being exposed to Morty toxins.
“Right,” Errol said. “Maggie it is.”
“On the other hand, Andromeda is the most forgiving of your long hours, even though you stood her up.”
“Very well. I’ll court Andromeda.”
She began to chop the parsley again. “Then again, Brunilda fancied you because she wants to marry a man in uniform.”
“Just pick a gi
rl, and I’ll court her.” Errol selected a mincemeat tart from a tray.
“Does it not matter at all to you?” she demanded.
It didn’t. He was only doing this in the hope she would allow him to set her up with a nice young man who wasn’t married, wanted more than her biscuits—or body—and would marry her and make her happy for the rest of her days.
Alma ended up choosing Maggie. Errol didn’t have much experience with courting, but he asked advice from his sister. He brought Maggie flowers and took her dancing. He found himself enjoying his time with Maggie, and she seemed to like him. She complained when he worked late or he wasn’t able to spend time with her because of his duties in the royal guard, but he took it as a compliment that meant she enjoyed spending time with him.
He courted her for six months, and things started to seem serious enough between them that he wondered whether it was time to ask her to marry him. He was fairly certain he was in love. He was shocked when she turned him down.
She patted his cheek as though he were a child. “That is so sweet of you, but you’re hardly around as a lover. I can’t imagine how disappointing it would be to have you as a husband. I’d be alone all the time, and would you truly be able to blame a girl if she took up with another man while you were away?”
Errol could understand if she had said she wasn’t ready or she wanted him to prove himself, but this reply was just insulting.
“Have you taken up with another man?” he asked.
“Would you really have noticed if I had?” The pity in her eyes was worse than if she’d looked to him with scorn. “You wouldn’t notice one way or the other.”
Errol was crestfallen. He hated to break the news to Alma, but it was inevitable. It shouldn’t have surprised him that when he went to the kitchen to see her, she shook her head at him before he’d even opened his mouth.
“You know about Maggie calling things off with me?” His shoulders deflated more.
Gossip traveled faster than wildfire.
“Aye. I expect I knew the news before you did.” She waved a rolling pin at him. “Though, I expect that’s your fault for not showing your face around here more often.”
Two of the maids in the kitchen giggled, hearing about his failures. Maggie wasn’t there at least. He would have died of humiliation if she had been.
He kept his voice low so he wouldn’t be overheard. “She told you that was why, then?”
“What did you expect?” she asked. “You went for a week straight without even writing that poor girl a note to let her know you were busy with ‘duties.’ It was the least you could have done.” She stuck her nose up in the air. “I regret I ever set her up with you.”
“Oh,” he said, feeling ashamed. “I suppose I don’t have much experience with women.”
“Aye. You’ve always been too busy for anyone other than me. It’s time you started learning.”
Errol tried not to allow the disappointments of his personal life to interfere with his work. He knew he failed. He barked out orders at the men who served under him and felt crabby as he went about his day.
Later he was specially requested by name for guarding the king’s private quarters while he had a meeting with one of the Fae from another court. Errol would have rather been anywhere and done anything but work late, another reminder that his duty came before his personal life. It was no wonder Maggie had felt neglected.
The visiting Fae was a beautiful princess from the Verde Court, with skin the color of bronze. Her midnight hair was laced with speckles of silver that twinkled like stars. Her gown appeared to be made of the cosmos more than fabric.
Errol stood inside the king’s antechamber, pretending he didn’t hear their conversation about politics and trade negotiations. He kept his face blank, long ago having learned the art of showing no emotion when in the presence of his superiors. It wasn’t his job to think, only to guard.
The other guard was less adept at concealing his amusement as the king complimented the Verde Court princess and suggested some of the matters of state they needed to discuss were too sensitive for servants to overhear. The king sent his butler away first, followed by his valet.
The other guard stationed with Errol raised an eyebrow. The guard had ebony skin and eyes as blue as lapis. A streak of orange ran through his short, shorn hair, but it was difficult to tell whether it was ornamental or natural. He probably came from one of the smaller courts, the Nana-Buluku Court or the Obatala, the Sky Court, but Errol didn’t ask. His duty kept him from speaking with others while on the job. The guard tried to catch Errol’s eye, but Errol ignored him.
Eventually Errol and the other guard were sent outside.
“See to it that the rest of our conversation remains uninterrupted. Especially from my wife,” the king instructed.
“Apparently they’re done discussing trade and ready to seal the deal with a kiss,” the other guard mumbled once they were outside.
Errol kept his voice low, not wanting his sovereign to hear. “That is our king you are talking about. Such defamation is treason.”
“It’s only defamation if it isn’t true.” The other guard tilted his head to the side as if listening.
Errol had learned many uses for his magic and trained in a variety of skills, but he was still learning how to use his eyes and ears in ways the older and more experienced Fae could do. He couldn’t see through walls like some guards, nor listen for spies and danger with magic.
“You don’t know how to hear through walls, do you?” the other guard asked.
Errol’s face flushed with heat. “Of course I do.”
The man smirked. “Then what garment did the king just ask the ambassador from the Verde Court to remove?”
Errol clenched his fists. “We are not supposed to be listening to the royal family’s private conversations. It isn’t any of our concern what he’s asked her to remove.”
Errol could hear them too now, the thudding growing louder, despite the walls between them and the king. There was no way they would be able to bar the entrance of the queen if it came to that, yet those were their orders. Errol hated to be placed in a position that he would have to choose which noble to disobey and risk being punished by. He supposed the king outranked the queen. Having an affair with a foreign princess might be in the best interests of the kingdom.
The other guard laughed, the sound boisterous and friendly despite Errol’s reprimand. “I’m just jesting. He didn’t ask her to remove anything.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I don’t hear the rustle of clothes, so I’m fairly certain they’re both undressed by this point.”
“If I were your superior officer, I would formally reprimand you,” Errol said.
The other man eyed Errol’s insignia. “It’s a good thing I outrank you, then.”
He turned so Errol could see his insignia that showed off his rank on his collar. The man was a captain.
Errol stared straight ahead, his face growing hotter.
“What bee got in your bonnet?” the captain said.
“Nothing,” Errol said.
“Are you sure about that?” The captain chuckled.
Errol didn’t answer. He hoped this man hadn’t heard the gossip about him and Maggie.
“What’s your name?” the captain asked.
“Lieutenant Errol, sir.”
“Ah,” the captain said. “That explains quite a bit, then.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Errol asked.
The captain extended his hand. “Captain Sematawytefnakht IV.”
“Sem what?” Errol asked.
The royal guard wasn’t as large as the cavalry, but the castle was big enough he hadn’t yet met all the royal guards.
The captain grinned. “My friends call me Semmy. My enemies . . . get punched in the face.”
“Remind me not to be your enemy,” Errol said.
“You could start by having a drink with me at the pub
after our shift gets over. Then you can tell me all about your lady problems.”
“My lady problems?” Errol’s face drained of warmth. “Did my sister blab to everyone in the entire castle?”
Semmy chuckled. “Not your sister. Your lover. Or former lover, I take it.”
Errol suspected there would be no end to his humiliation.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A Musing Muse
To be a guard in the Silver Court meant Errol was expected to be discreet, silent, and invisible unless there was a threat—and to take care of that danger if it should occur. It was an honor to serve the noblest of families, and Errol didn’t forget that in all he did. What he hadn’t counted on was the effects of muse magic.
King Viridios Le Fay of the Silver Court: Ruler of Birds, Beasts, and Bees; Lord Muse of Artists, Dancers, and Musicians and his kin possessed certain abilities that other Fae did not.
For months Errol oversaw his unit on patrol duties outside the castle and in the hallway. Apparently six months was a record to earn the privilege of guarding the king himself. Errol liked to imagine it was his hard work that secured that honor.
On Errol’s first assignment in the king’s chamber, the king entertained a human guest—though in Errol’s opinion, the guest seemed to be doing all the entertaining. The other Fae guard was positioned across from Errol, glamoured to be invisible, as was the custom of the guards so that they would be able to work without disrupting their benefactors. Errol was still being trained in stealth enchantments. It was one thing to be able to use a simple Fae glamour of invisibility. It was another skill to see through someone else’s enchantments.
He could sense where Paega, the other guard, stood, though he couldn’t actually see him with the same level of skill that the older and more experienced officers could. Two more guards were stationed outside the king’s chamber, and more patrolled in the hallway, though those guards were visible.
The king’s guest played the pianoforte with so much zeal, it was a wonder the keys didn’t shatter. At one point, a wire from under the bonnet of the contraption broke. The musician sang about angels and his savior, reverence in his eyes as he looked to King Viridios. Mostly he sang in Latin, but sometimes in English as well. Errol gathered Britain to be his country of origin in the Morty Realm.