Page 19 of A Beastly Court

“Don’t know what he’s waiting for, if you ask me,” he said, ambling towards the hall that would lead to the black door. “Maybe he’s one of those males who needs a push in the right direction?”

“Mr. Trinkett.” Daphne stamped her hoof, but she was more amused than angered. “Mind your own biscuits and gravy.”

The old raccoon merely chortled and padded out of sight.

No sooner had his shadow disappeared did the porcupine swoon from the mare’s shoulders. Her crochet hook might have clattered to the ground, but I caught her, thanking the Green Mother and all my lucky stars that her quills hadn’t been erect.

“Shari, snap out of it,” Flora barked, springing straight up in the air like a thirty-pound jackrabbit and swatting the porcupine across the tender nose.

Shari woke with a choking snort.

Daphne lashed her long white tail across the honey badger’s flanks, which would’ve made any other creature yelp. “A little restraint, if you please, Flora.”

“You okay?” I asked the porcupine, handing her the crochet hook.

“Yes.” She gulped, smoothing down the fur on her belly. She always had to keep her hands busy. “I-I thought Cernunnos was displeased with the gowns I made you.”

“The only thing he’s displeased with is the fact you didn’t make the necklines lower and the hemlines shorter, am I right, Meadow?” Flora laughed.

“Shush, Flora. You’re embarrassing her.” Daphne nudged my shoulder with her velvety muzzle. “Stallions can be pushy, dear, but remember you have your own hooves and can give him a kick if you’re not interested. Just because you moved in with him doesn’t mean you’re to come running whenever he starts whinnying.”

Color stained my cheeks like cherry juice on a linen picnic blanket. “Daphne—”

“Now who’s making the cider witch blush?” Flora cackled. She butted me roughly in the leg with her head, making my knee buckle. “You gonna invite us in, or are we having girl-talk in the foyer where anyone can hear us?”

“Actually, I need help with something in my bedroom,” I said quickly, relieved for the change in subject. “I’ve got a bit of a vermin problem.” If Flora could solve it for me, I could get rid of that creepy barn owl.

“Vermin?” Predatory delight sparkled in Flora’s black eyes. “We talking small and mousy or big and squirrelly?”

“You gonna be picky?” I teased. “It’s a free snack.”

“Can’t argue with that!” The honey badger bounded ahead of me, loping for the east wing archway.

And skittered to a halt when Ossian appeared seemingly out of thin air, blocking the entrance. For a moment, he seemed tall enough for his head to scrape against the apex of the archway, his shoulders broad enough to touch each side of the passageway, his eyes feral and glowing green. He wasn’t the benevolent, soft-spoken male who’d stolen my heart, but the fae king.

Out of nowhere, a warning voice rose from the recesses of my mind. It’s dangerous to anthropomorphize the fae. They might look like us, apart from their height and pointed ears and general etherealness, but they are not human. They are not supes, either. And to confuse them as such would be a deadly mistake. Theirs is the magic of deception and illusion, designed to lull and distract, then strike.

Human or fae, one thing was for sure. He was anything but pleased.

CHAPTER NINE

“Meadow, love,” Ossian said, though there was hardly an affectionate note in his voice. “I thought you were taking your friends to the atrium as usual.”

I blinked, trying to reconcile the fae I’d just seen in the archway to the one who stood there now, the one I was familiar with. “I-I just thought I’d take them to my room to get that mouse—”

“That is what the owl is for. And you know the east wing is off-limits to anyone other than you.” His close-lipped smile was brittle.

“We were just caught up in the excitement, is all, Cernunnos,” Daphne assured, though there was a slight tremor in her voice. On her withers, Shari strived to hide herself with the mare’s long white mane. “Flora? We know the way to the atrium. Quick trot now.”

“You know I’m better than any owl, right?” Flora boldly told the fae king. “No dainty wings to break on this honey badger if it’s something scrappier than a mouse.”

Ossian didn’t move, his jewel-like eyes glittering. The gemstones around his neck flared. “Your presence here is a gift to my mate. It would be a shame for your brash tongue to return you to the status of a lowly gardener.”

“Flora,” I said warningly.

It was true—once Ossian had seen my need for companionship other than what he provided, he had elevated three of the castle’s staff: the gardener, the seamstress, and the game warden. We’d become fast friends immediately, all agreeing that it seemed like we’d known each other forever instead of a few short days. And what Ossian gave, he had yet to take back, but there was always a first time.

“Cernunnos,” Flora spat at him, turning on her claws and lifting her tail as high as it would go before trotting off.