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Rubbing my hands through my hair, I smoothed it back as I surveyed my surroundings. The previous day I had only focused on the bed and the need for sleep. Having found it adequately comfortable, I had bothered with little else. However, now I wished I had.

“This room seems a bit excessive for a mere visitor.”

“This is only the bedchamber.” Raven plucked my over tunic from the back of a lounge couch at the end of the massive bed. “The suite includes a second bedchamber, sitting room, office, and a bathing chamber. The little one insisted that she remain with her companion. Lady Lyra assigned the other bedchamber to them.”

That sounded about right for Mela. She appeared to be a child of set opinions and firm decisiveness.

Stunned by the luxury of my surroundings—the lush rugs on the intricately laid wooden floor were a far cry from my mother’s cottage and dirt floor—I found myself frowning at the rich drapes drawn over the windows.

“A chambermaid will be in shortly to open the drapes for the day. What do you wish to wear, Master Kent?”

“I packed three changes of clothing. Any of those will do.”

Raven was shaking his head. “No, Master Kent, they won’t. Although they appeared practical for your previous life, they will not assist you now. Might I make a suggestion?”

His choice was a costume made mostly of silk brocade trimmed in braid. Just the sight of its excess set my teeth on edge. “It appears as though it would hinder my movement and make me dangerously slow. Doesn’t the fabric make noise when walking?”

“Sometimes it does,” Raven admitted ruefully.

“A good way to get myself killed.”

“No one is hunting you here.”

I pinned the man with a frown. “I was led to believe otherwise.”

Raven sighed heavily. “The fae here hunt with words and cunning traps of persuasion and manipulation. A fae not dressed in the latest fashion is considered a fool and not taken seriously.”

Negative image or not, I was not about to dress in the clothing offered without protest. “Lord Greyson does not dress in flashy clothing.” The Dullahan dressed mainly in black, at least during my experience with him.

“Ah, but that was because he was out hunting you.” Raven smiled in amusement. “I assure you, he dresses with appropriate care when in company or at court.”

“But I am not going to be in company or at court this day, am I?” I pointed out.

Raven acknowledged my point with an inclination of his head. “You are, however, meeting with those who might become your staff.”

“In that case, I intend to dress as myself.” I crossed to the pile of freshly folded clothing and shook out the tunic on top before pulling it over my head. “If you could locate my boots, Raven, I would appreciate it.”

With a heavy sigh, my attendant bore the rejected clothing away through a narrow door. Peeking after him, I glimpsed rows of clothing and stacks of boxes as I pulled on my cleaned trousers. He reappeared before I belted the waist.

“I assured the staff that you would wish to reuse these.” He bore my boots, freshly cleaned and polished, and my weapons.

Enthusiastically thanking him, I claimed the lot. As useless as they would be in a battle of words, the familiar weight of my weapons tucked back around my person bolstered me more than I wished to admit.

“Would you like sustenance before we join Lord Greyson in his office?”

My stomach answered to the amusement of us both. Goal set, Raven motioned for me to follow him and led the way through my bedroom door into a room easily twice the size of the Hart and Hare with a ceiling three times as high.

“I must protest!” a sprite squeaked in a treble voice as she rose off the ground. Supported by her rapidly flapping wings, she dusted the couches and tables in sparkling dust as she attempted to catch the child darting and winding between the pieces of furniture.

“Mela, please.” Rue’s voice drowned beneath the child’s squeals and the sprite’s protests. The pure exhaustion in the words pulled at my heart as I turned to find her sagging against the back of a large settee. Her dark hair had been tamed into a mass of curls that cascaded artfully down her back. The few curls that escaped near her ears coiled into long ringlets.

I had suspected Rue was petite under all of her loosely fitted layers of clothing, but I hadn’t guessed the extent. Her slender frame had been wrapped into a delicate dress of mint green that made her moss eyes glow, but the exhaustion in them cut my admiration short.

“Didn’t you sleep?” I asked as I crossed to her side. Instinctively, I reached out to touch her but caught myself at the last minute. My gloves weren’t on my hands. Before I could do more than fumble for the missing attire, Raven moved closer and held a neatly folded pair out to me. Suppressing the urge to thank him, I put them on. They weren’t mine, but they fit perfectly, of course.

I turned back to Rue just in time to catch her elbow as she swayed. “Why are you so tired?” I demanded with far more emotion than merited.

Rue leaned against me and lifted her head to gaze up at me from behind glazed eyes. “Mela didn’t—” She yawned widely. “—sleep.”