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“Every household in Guldtown has some sort of greenhouse either in communal spaces, their own property, or, in the heart of the city, on rooftops. I made sure of that.” Pride crossed his face as he pulled out the chair closest to the hearth. A white spotted animal hide was draped over the back of the chair, making it feel cozy. “Please, Lady Neve.”
I sat, unable to believe the turn of my luck. Last night, I’d been floating in a freezing river and now I sat at a lord’s table, a fire warming my back, about to be fed. I shrugged off Frode’s cloak, revealing my filthy shirt and pants and my mutilated wings. I winced, realizing just then how bad I looked. Surely, I stank too.
Roar’s eyes took in my attire, his gaze lingering on my wings for a moment before coming to my eyes. “Even if you are Winterborn, you’ll be needing something warmer than that in this kingdom. I’ll have a servant fetch you clothes from town. Is the fire enough for now?”
“It is,” I assured and was about to thank him yet again when a servant entered the room, carrying two red goblets of wine.
“My lady.” He handed the first to me. I’d never had wine before and certainly not out of a glass goblet with a gold rim.
“Is that a snow leopard?” I pointed to an etching on the base of the glass.
Roar’s finger ran over the animal on his goblet. “They symbolize my noble house. All the Sacred Eight have claimed an animal.”
“Sacred Eight?”
“The eight ruling families of Winter’s Realm. We preside beneath the Royal House of Aaberg. Each has a sector of the realm or economy to manage.”
“You are the Warden of the West,” I said, working through the information bit by bit. “In this kingdom that means that you’re the high lord who presides over the western part of the realm?”
“Precisely. There is also a Warden of the East, North, and South, as well as other lords and ladies who manage other aspects of diplomacy and economy, such as the Lord of Coin or Lady of Ships.” He took a sip of his wine as if he’d said nothing more than his family ran a local tavern. I marveled at the male across from me, wondering how one got to be so self-assured. “Would you prefer white wine to red?”
The glass remained aloft in my hand, forgotten in all the talk of the ruling families of the Winter Realm. I supposed that by not drinking it, I appeared rude to my host, so I brought the goblet to my lips. Slowly, I sipped.
My eyes popped open wide as velvety, warming drink swept across my tongue. It was sweeter than I’d imagined and though I wasn’t personally familiar with magic, I could tell that someone had poured their own power into the drink, somehow making the flavor dance in my mouth unlike anything I’d ever eaten.
What would it be like to be that person who made wine and gave a little of themselves to create it? That something so small could open my eyes to parts of the nine kingdoms I’d known nothing about was both exciting and a little terrifying.
“Is it to your taste?” the warden asked when I set the glass down.
“It’s lovely.”
Warden Roar smiled. “Very good. I don’t like my guests to be uncomfortable.”
For a person like me, a fae born and raised as property and also considered food, being completely comfortable in a palace was asking quite a lot. I might revel in the luxury, but deep inside, I couldn’t help but feel like something was going to happen to put me back in my place. However, that wasn’t the warden’s fault. “I thank you for your generosity.”
“It is my pleasure.”
Servants bustled into the room, bringing with them steaming platters of meat and vegetables. The aroma made my mouth water, and when the feast landed before me, I nearly burst into tears.
This looked like no roast I’d ever seen.
Decadence did not describe the platter in front of me. The meat looked tender enough to fall off the bone and the vegetables certainly weren’t what I’d been raised on. Each part of the meal had been cooked to perfection. And the decorative garnish of berries and some sort of greenery around the edges of the platter made it look quite pretty.
I must have held in my awe well, however, because no one noticed. The servants made a plate for me, and Warden Roar insisted I eat, which I could hardly wait to do.
With a trembling fork, I took my first bite, and a moan nearly escaped my lips. The roast tasted excellent; moist and savory, spiced and flavored with herbs I could not name, but they danced on my tongue like perfection. The sauce the warden had mentioned pooled on top of the meat, enhancing the flavor. I gobbled up half the plate before realizing that I resembled a wild orc and set my fork down.
“Don’t slow on my account.” My benefactor took another sip of wine, as if he hadn’t watched a guest act like an animal.
“I should, though,” I replied. “This is a lot richer than the food I’m used to. I don’t want to make myself sick.”
“Excellent point.” He set down his goblet and leaned closer. “Perhaps I can distract you for a few minutes with my offer?”
“That would be welcome.”
“It has to do with the court in the capital city of Avaldenn.”
I thought back to the maps I’d studied whenever a book about the nine kingdoms became available to slaves, thankful for his gentle instruction as I recalled the area. For some, it could be confusing. Sometimes the kingdoms were referred to as their courts. Other times, the kingdoms had more than one name—like Winter’s Realm and the Winter Court.
