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Then shaking herself, she attempted to stand on her own again. “I will be fine.”

“No, you won’t. Go back to bed.”

“Can’t.” She shook her head, and the curls bounced. “Someone has to take care of Mela.”

“Let the—” I motioned to the squeaking sprite.

Rue rolled her eyes at me and almost fell over with the effort. “Mela is running her ragged already. I have to—”

Catching her mid-stumble, I brought Rue around by her upper arms and glared into her sleepy face. “You are not up for anything. Go to bed. I will see to Mela.”

“Really?” Rue brightened.

“Truly. Now go.” I turned her around once more before I realized I didn’t know which of the surrounding doors led to her chamber.

Glancing at Raven, I was relieved when he nodded toward the door directly opposite the one we had emerged from. Prodding Rue gently, I watched her stumble across toward her destination. To my relief, she made it and slipped through the door before closing it behind her.

Now to wrangle Mela.

To my surprise, the sprite was no longer squeaking. Instead, she was plopped on the floor in the middle of the space, skirts a rumpled mess as she gasped for breath.

Mela, on the other hand, was smiling brightly up at Raven. “Who are you?” she asked.

My attendant regarded the tiny human in muted horror. “His High—”

I cleared my throat.

Raven shot me a glance of annoyance. “I am Lord Kent’s attendant.”

“Like a handmaiden?” Mela motioned to the sprite now glaring daggers at the child.

“Have you had breakfast?” I asked.

Mela bestowed a huge grin on me. “No. But I want some.”

With that knowledge, it was decided that we would go find breakfast and leave the sprite to recover. Raven didn’t appear to know what to do with Mela, but she had no such reservations. She claimed his hand and filled the silence with rapid-fire questions on a host of subjects as we descended into the bowels of the massively complicated mansion in search of food.

Chapter Eight

Rue

I woke from a deep sleep all sweaty and disoriented. Someone had been calling my name.

“Hmm?” I forced myself to roll off the bed and to my feet, rubbing sleep from my eyes.

“Oh, no, my lady, you need not rise.” The distress in the soft voice matched the sudden apprehension in the air.

I blinked over at her. She wasn’t Nixie, the sprite who had been attending Mela and me earlier. This fae wore the same uniform, though. A simple apron of white linen over a dress of practical green wool. I approved of the choice. No fuss or busyness, just clean lines and practical fabrics. But unlike Nixie, this fae did not sparkle or flash, and no wings hung down her back as she stooped to catch the falling cushion that tumbled from the end of the bed, but the magic coming from her felt warm and grounded with a hint of playfulness.

She offered me a small smile as she smoothed and plumped the pillow before returning it to the bed. “Lady Lyra requested that I wake you, help you prepare for dinner, and escort you to the reception room. There is no need for haste; Lady Lyra usually prefers to wait until Lord Greyson appears before she allows the meal to be served. Lord Greyson and Master Kent have not finished their conferring.”

Food sounded good. My stomach felt hollow, and my last meal felt far too long ago.

But eating with the likes of Lady Lyra made me put my hand to my hair as I surveyed the crushed velvet of the gown Nixie had wrapped me in that morning. The artfully crushed fabric no longer appeared wrinkled with purpose. It now resembled a crumpled handkerchief rather than a lovely gown.

“Don’t worry about that,” the fae woman commented as she walked around me to straighten the bedding I had mussed. “I was sent to help you prepare. A selection of gowns are hanging in your dressing room. Once you choose and I dress you, I will attend to your hair.”

A yawn caught me by surprise. “My apologies.”