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Varen’s brow furrows. “But the queen kicks the drones out of the hive during the winter. Keeping her warm is up to the rest of the hive.”
I blink.
Bodin darts a nervous glance at me, then whispers to Varen, “We can talk about the bees later, Ren. Inside now.”
“Yes.” Legion rubs his temples. “Do go inside. Willow, it was not a lie when I told Puck having you here means we wish to keep an eye on you. That also means you are gaining access to a place no other in Avorlorna has been. I need your sworn oath not to tell anyone what you witness here.”
His cultured drawl ends with a sharpness rivaling my dagger. I take a moment to soak in all that is Legion—the First, the Knight Commander, the Lord. He is the driving force of Avorlorna’s military in a time of war, yet wrinkles dare not appear on his impeccably tailored suit. Knots fear to disrupt thesilken strands framing his face. Even the light hides from the depths of his eyes.
“I don’t have a choice, do I?” I shoot back.
Wrong thing to say.
His carefully presented stoicism implodes.
“Sleep outside if you are fishing for choice.” His booming voice echoes against the walls. “But inside this castle,allof our choices exist purely to serve the queen. Now, I do not wish to repeat myself. Hold your tongue about what you witness here. Am I understood?”
“Fine.” My voice is quiet.
His brow arches, unsatisfied.
I avert my gaze and hide my face with my long hair. “I mean, yes, sir.”
Here, they’re the saviors of the realm, but back home, they were villains. How is any of this fair?
Legion is the one to watch—the one to fear. Beneath that stoic exterior is a cold, calculating beast, which he showed as a warning. I doubt he warns twice.
“It’s been a busy day, my lords.” Cricket’s deep, throaty voice isn’t what I expect to come from her delicate lips. “Why don’t you all go in and sit by the fire? I’ll take care of the Lady Willow from here.”
Legion starts up the steps, his boots dragging. He faces me just before entering and calmly says, “It’s clear you do not wish to be here, but necessity forces our hand. We must all live with the arrangement.”
“You chose me, not the other way around.”
“We chose a Nothing who wears a stolen wisp around her neck. Hardly trustworthy behavior, but a deception we can use to our advantage.” The effort to restrain his temper is a visible tremble as he rubs his temples. When he speaks again, his coolsophistication is back. “Your company is required for the Holly King’s feast on Feyday evening. Ensure you are punctual.”
He waits for me to respond with a “Yes, sir” and then enters the keep behind Bodin and Varen.
Glass breaking upstairs makes Finch cringe. “I’d best be off to deal with the wee wildling.”
“Alright, love.” Cricket gives him an affectionate smile. “You go do that. I’ll take care of the lady.”
He turns to me and lifts his chin. “Very nice to meet you, Lady Willow.”
Most strangers cannot hide their shock at my face, but these two don’t look twice.
“Not a lady.” I return his smile. “Willow is fine.”
“Don’t mind the First. He’s not himself lately. None of them are. But we’re over the moon to finally have a guest in the castle.”
I don’t know what else to say, so I nod.
He gives a formal, sweeping bow and then collects my rucksack.Mine. Startled, I tug it back. The guards spilled the contents out, and I’m done with my things being meddled with.
“It’s alright, love,” Cricket says. “He’ll just take it to your room. Promise.”
Logic says they won’t disrespect my things. I reluctantly let go.
“I’ll deliver this to your room before seeing to the wildling.” He gives Cricket a quick kiss on the forehead. “Wish me luck, my strumpet.”
