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“You’re more than welcome, your Ladyship!” He beamed at me, showing a grin that was nearly toothless. Then he shouted out, “Long live the Princess—Blessed is she whose Bite is Sweet!”
“Blessed is she whose Bite is Sweet!” the Lesser Fae roared back, returning his chant and touching their foreheads and their necks as they did so. Then all of us headed down the hallway for the kitchens.
This might still be a dream, I told myself as we marched along. But I was going to try and make a positive change here if I could. And if I woke up in an hour, cold and alone in my minivan, oh well. I wanted to do whatever I could to make the Palace a better place for as long as the dream lasted.
25
Lily
Old Keezer had been right—the Head Chef, whose name was Goztel—was more than eager to comply when I asked him to prepare a feast for the Lesser Fae.
“It’s mighty good of you, my Lady,” he said, ducking his head in a bow and then rising up again to a height of almost eight and a half feet tall. (Sel had murmured to me that he was also a half-breed and was half ogre.)
“It’s long overdue,” I said. “I understand that Queen Lorelin used to hold feasts for the Lesser Fae often.”
“Yes, she did.” He nodded. “But the practice fell out of favor after she passed and King Valerin was alone on the throne. Of course, we didn’t blame him,” he added quickly. “He was grieving his wife’s death and the loss of his baby daughter—of you, your Ladyship.” He nodded at me obsequiously. “So of course he couldn’t be thinking all the time of the Lesser Fae.”
Personally, I thought this was a poor excuse for neglecting the people who kept the Palace running for fifty years, but I didn’t say so. I nodded at the Head Chef and promised him that feasts for the Lesser Fae was going to become a regular thing again—starting that very night.
“And be sure you use plenty of meat,” I added. I pointed to a large haunch of what looked like venison sitting on the chopping block. “Use that and more like it if you have it.”
“Oh but my Lady!” Goztel protested. “That right there is reserved for the Lord Regent’s table at supper tonight!”
“Not anymore it’s not!” I said firmly. “In fact, maybe you should make him a nice pot of potato stew or vegetable soup so he can get a taste of what the Lesser Fae have been living on.”
Goztel looked uncertain, but he nodded in response.
“I’ll do as you say, my Princess,” he murmured. “And thank you again for your kindness and generosity. I come from the Lesser Fae too, you know,” he added. “So these are my people.”
“They’re my people too,” I told him and I meant it. These people needed to be represented and considered and appreciated—not starved and kept in ignorance. I might not feel like a real Princess, but I could by-God act like one, I told myself. And if this new position I had stumbled into gave me power to do good, I was going to do it—no matter what that asshole, Mordren said.
I was about to go, but I realized that all this talking had made me thirsty again.
“Pardon me, Gotzel,” I said to the Head Chef. “But could you get me a glass of water? I’m parched.”
Gotzel’s large yellow eyes widened and he took a step back, one huge hand going to his throat.
“Oh, er, of course your Ladyship,” he said, sounding nervous for the first time. “Pally—get the Princess water,” he added, calling over his shoulder at one of the kitchen helpers, though his eyes never left my face. “A lot of it—she’s thirsting!”
I frowned, feeling a bit of irritation.
“It’s all right, Gotzel,” I told him. “I know the legends you have about how the Queen needs to, uh, bite people but I’m not like that. Water is all I need.”
As I spoke, one of the kitchen help handed me a ceramic mug filled with water. I drained it almost in one gulp and felt refreshed…but still rather thirsty. I thought of asking for another cup of water, but I could see I had already freaked poor Gotzel out.
“Thank you,” I said, handing the mug back. “I feel much better now.”
“Of course, your Ladyship. I’m so glad.” Gotzel nodded at me, a tentative smile returning to his large face. But he was still keeping his distance, I noticed.
It amazed and disturbed me that someone who was over eight feet tall would be scared of someone my size and I said so to Sel and Krynn as we left the Palace kitchens.
“He probably fears you because you’re not wearing the Jewel of Lolth,” Krynn told me.
“You mean the silver necklace with the purple stone, right?” I said. “The one still locked up in my ex-husband’s safe.”
“It’s a great pity you couldn’t get it before you left him,” Krynn said, nodding. “The Jewel of Lolth helps her descendants in two ways. First, it helps the rightful Queen to focus her Power…”
“And second, it helps control the Thirst,” Sel rumbled from my other side. “Gotzel feared you because he thought you might demand to take his vein.”
