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I’d always had to make do with a bucket of cold water, and soap had been a luxury I’d rarely had.
This was divine.
Bessie stood in the corner like an ornament when I walked to the wardrobe with a towel wrapped around my body. I glanced out of the large windows. The warriors’ quarters formed a half-circle, all of them looking out over training grounds. Various arenas lined up next to each other with different equipment and dummies and running track and targets.
None of the arenas were where I’d fought the monster. I was glad. I didn’t want to set foot in that place again.
“What are the warriors like?” I asked.
“Unrefined, my lady. Rough. But dedicated. They’re a tight-knit group, a family.”
At the word ‘family,’ my stomach twisted.
“The elite guard is a special group of Fae. You should be honored to be joining such ranks,” Bessie added.
“Elite guard?” I’d heard about this unit of the King’s military—the best of the best. “I thought I was just training to be a warrior.”
“Oh no, my lady. You’ve been assigned to the elite guard.”
My stomach tightened in a knot of nerves just thinking about it. I’d always fought my way out of trouble; I could take care of myself just fine. But being part of an elite group of fighters, and being formally trained, was different.
“I don’t have magic,” I said.
“I wouldn’t worry about it, my lady. You’re here by order of the King. The warriors on the elite guard won’t counter his decision.”
“I’m human.”
“A human who slayed the Farynx.”
I glanced at her. My reputation preceded me. Was it a good thing?
I turned away from the window. Tomorrow, I would get a taste of what it was all about.
Bessie had laid out a cream dress, simple and elegant, with long sleeves and material that was lighter than air when I pulled it on.
“This dress is my size.”
She nodded. “The King arranged a wardrobe for you.”
I opened the closet and studied its contents—outfits for training, casual wear, and long robes.
“If you’ll take a seat, my lady.” Bessie gestured to a dressing table opposite my bed. “I’ll help with your hair.”
“I can do it myself.” I’d been akin to a servant my whole life. Being served by a human when I was one of them was unsettling.
“The King commanded me to take care of you.”
She offered me a determined look. I hesitated before I sat down. Bessie picked up a brush and combed my wet hair out before drying it with a dryer. She braided it down my back while I watched her in the mirror. Her fingers were skilled, her lips pinched together in concentration.
When she finished, I turned my face this way and that.
“That’s really pretty,” I said.
Bessie smiled. “I’m exceptionally skilled with hair.”
A knock sounded on my door. When I opened it, another servant stood before me, dressed the same as Bessie, her hair styled in the same low bun. She bowed her head.
“The King requests an audience,” she said.
