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The two girls got busy immediately. They cleaned the kitchen in record time and got the hearth going with whatever Fae magic they used. One of them served me an omelette, and while I ate, they hauled buckets of hot water upstairs.
Bleddyn was still missing. I’d asked the king and immediately regretted it. He’d grimaced and scolded me.
“I understand that Bleddyn found and looked after you. However, he owes his duty to me and to my son. You did not grow up with our customs, so I shall be tolerant of your ignorance.
“But I must warn you. Do not become fond of a vassal. As my granddaughter, you have certain duties to fulfill. When you join us soon, we shall speak about future consorts.”
I’d nodded dutifully, not contradicting him to his face. It sounded to me as if he was going to arrange a marriage. Maybe that’s how the Fae chose their partners, but it was not something I’d ever allow him to do.
My muscles relaxed in the scented heat of the bathtub, and I sank below the water surface until only my head was visible.
As my mind grew fuzzy, I closed my eyes and drifted in an in-between stage—not awake, but not asleep, either. When I came back to myself, the water was cold, chilling my skin, and my stomach growled.
I dried off in record time, got dressed, and went to find something else to eat. Faerie food didn’t stick to my ribs, filling me up in the moment, but never lasting long. I called out for the servant girls, but they seemed to have left already. It was getting late, after all.
Downstairs, it was dark, with only the light from the street lamps illuminating the empty space. Through the window, I could see one guard still outside, leaning heavily against the building. The other had presumably returned with the girls.
I spent the next five minutes opening all the kitchen cupboards and drawers to find food. Vegetables, even unfamiliar ones, wouldn’t be hard to cook. I found some in the larder that reminded me of carrots, even though they were white and purple.
I broke one, and the smell was the exact same as regular carrots. There were also yellow mushrooms and zucchini. I couldn’t find a freezer, and the servants had thrown away any meat left out. Vegetarian it was.
In an earthen jar, I discovered some neutral frying oil. Another container contained salt, and the third one was full of dried herbs. The pungent smell tickled my nose, and I added a cautious teaspoon to my finished stir-fry. Then I carried the plate into the dining area and dug in.
Mistress Olwen was a much better cook, because my dish filled my stomach, but didn’t make me swoon with flavor.
When I was done, I returned my dishes back to the kitchen. To clean up, I’d have to fetch water from the river. But it was pitch dark outside, away from the street lamps, so yeah, I’d rather not. Instead, I placed my dirty plate next to a large sink.
Where the hell was Olwen? I tried not to think about it anymore, because it made me restless with foreboding. Like something had gotten her while I hadn’t paid attention.
I didn’t know what to do with myself. It wasn’t that late yet, and I wasn’t tired. But I was completely alone in the big guesthouse, except for the guy at the front door.
What would he do if I snuck out through the kitchen? Was his orders to follow me, to protect me, or to drag me back to the palace? My grandfather had been welcoming, but there was something about the prince that made me feel on edge. It hadn’t sunk in yet that I was next in line to the throne, but now my thoughts were whirling, trying to make sense of it.
If I accepted my place in the royal family, I’d have the power to help this world, these people. But I’d also be a target. My uncle would lose his position at the court. How would I feel if I’d been raised all my life to be the next king? And then some nobody took it away? Would I take it lying down? Or would it give me a reason to get rid of the competition?
The answer was easy. Alliances that had been built carefully—my presence changed everything. I was a threat to everybody at the court. Once I lived there, I’d be easy prey. A push down the stairs, an unexplained illness, or maybe he’d tell the king I’d gone home. I’d disappear as quickly as I’d arrived in Faerie.
A lead weight dropped into my stomach, and I laid my head on the tabletop, groaning with distress.
For a moment, I’d allowed myself to believe I’d found a family. Maybe not a happy, fuzzy family, but an uncle and a grandfather, nonetheless. And yet, they were strangers to me. Beyond all of that, I couldn’t get over that they thought abducting and killing humans was okay.
Seriously, who did that? Yes, I understood the reasons—their survival was teetering on the edge. And yet, there was no excuse for it. None.
So it came back to this: if I could stop it, wasn’t it my duty to at least try?
It was too much for me to think through. I needed to talk to someone. Maybe, just maybe, Bleddyn could help. If he ever showed his stupid face again.
For a moment, my adrenaline spiked. Had Prys done something to the warrior? Made him disappear? I had a feeling it wouldn’t be beyond the prince if he felt like it. He came across as a spoilt, dangerous jerk.
He’d be no match for Bleddyn, though. When he’d shown his sword skills? Damn, that guy had talents. I shivered pleasantly, remembering his fluid movements. I didn’t have the slightest doubt he could look after himself. Yet my restlessness remained, and my mind was racing.
Soon I paced to and fro in the dining room, trying to get my churning thoughts under control. What if the prince had ordered somebody to stab Bleddyn in the back? What if there’d been a whole army of people jumping him? I wrung my hands in frustration, walking faster and faster.
There was a rap on the door in the back of the kitchen. It came so suddenly, I nearly jumped out of my skin. What should I do? Tell the guard out front? What if it was Bleddyn?
The knock came again, this time even more insistently. I walked to the back door and called, “Who’s out there?”
“It is me, Daeary. May I come in?”
