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“Yes, Alpha.”
The door closed at my back, and I sauntered through the massive front room, stripping off my simple t-shirt, my sister flittering through my mind as I headed toward the walk-in closet. I’d check on her too while I was up there.
Cyndella was only a year younger, but there were times when I felt as though she were a toddler, in need of constant attention.
Our mother’s death had harmed us both irrevocably, but in Cyndella’s case, I feared the damage was regressive, spinning her back into a protective shell from which she might never escape.
It was just one more reason I had to keep the kingdom safe.
I picked out a casual pair of cargo pants and a button-down, short-sleeved olive shirt. Just as I finished securing the final button at my chest, a gust of wind caught my attention from the bedroom, and I knew that Endora had bypassed my security, using her stealth magic to enter my bedroom without Landon’s knowledge.
“Are you dressing, Zen?” she called out from the bedroom.
“I’ll be right out.”
“Nothing I haven’t seen before, anyway.”
I grimaced at the reminder that Endora had—or so she often claimed—changed mine and Cyndella’s diapers.
It had never been a cute anecdote, but it was particularly irritating now that I was king. But again, it was just one of the many quirks of Endora that she could get away with that no one else dared.
I ambled out of the walk-in closet, grateful that she hadn’t ventured in. For all of her teasing, Endora did have a smart sense for my moods, and she knew better than to come for me when I was already on edge.
Running a hand through my short-cropped hair, palm falling over the scruff of my face before falling to my side, I faced her. “Well?” I demanded. “How is she?”
Endora shrugged and flopped onto my bed uninvited, but I didn’t order her to move. I was more concerned with the well-being of the trespasser than Endora’s endless barrage of social misdemeanors.
“She’s not as badly injured as you thought—well, at least she’s not now,” the enchantress replied.
My brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”
“She’s healing well—either by the grace of the healer or because she is one herself.”
My frown deepened. “You can’t tell?”
Endora curled her bare feet onto the duvet cover, making me cringe with every move. The bottoms were filthy, and I was glad my covers were black. I’d ensure one of the maids came in to change the linens before I retired for the night.
“No,” she answered, frankly. “I honestly can’t tell. Beyond telling you that she is roughly in her early twenties—perhaps twenty-three or twenty-four years old. I can’t get a read on her at all.”
My jaw dropped at the uncharacteristic honesty of her words. Endora’s powers of assessment were unparalleled by anyone in the kingdom. It was why she was there, picked over all others. It was true that I had inherited her, but enchantresses lived out their tenure until their deaths, taking on apprentices in their later years. Endora was a long way off from that happening. But could her mind be going if she couldn’t get a simple read on this fae?
Before I could challenge her, she held up a slender, slightly weathered hand, shaking her snow-white hair and cocking her head back to place her black eyes on me.
“Well, that’s not entirely true,” she backpedaled. “I didn’t get anything substantial on her—I mean, I don’t know who she is or where she’s from. I don’t know her name or how she came to be in the forest.”
“The whole reason I brought her here was to get those answers,” I reminded her flatly. “What the hell else could I want from her?”
Or you?I added silently, but didn’t bother voicing my sullen question.
“Huh. And I thought you brought her here because you were worried the pretty one was going to die,” Endora replied slyly.
Heat surged through me, and I thought of Landon, remarking about how he wouldn’t have forgotten meeting her if he’d seen her before.
Was she pretty?
I hadn’t noticed… not really. Of course, the incredible blue of the stranger’s eyes were compelling, but she had been beaten, broken. My thoughts had not been on her attractiveness.
“My business is not medical care,” I growled, shaking off the implication. “I have a kingdom to run, not a hospital. Whatdidyou discover about her if nothing important?”
