Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The bedroom door creaked all too loudly in my opinion as I forced it open a crack to peer down the east wing hallway.

Deserted, as always, nothing but cold gray stone and dormant sconces and the occasional drab pastoral painting.

"Anything?" Sawyer whispered up through the hole in the foraging bag. "I've got better hearing than you do. Lemme have a listen."

"Shhh, stay in there," I whispered back, straining my ears for any audible hint that the east wing wasn't as empty as it looked. "It's been hours," I murmured. "He's in his smithy or out hunting or something. I think we're good. Ossian never goes to the kitchen, anyway, and Mrs. Bilberry will keep quiet if I ask her to. At least for a little while."

Slipping into the hall, I closed the door behind me, cursing it for its squeak. I'd ask Mrs. Bilberry for some oil to lubricate the hinges after getting something to eat. Then I snuck down the east wing on soft leather boots, two fingers of my right hand stuffed into the hole in the bag and drawing comfort from contact with the striped tomcat.

Melding into the shadow of the archway, I paused to listen for any sounds echoing down the other halls and into the center foyer. To my left, the portcullis and gate to the main courtyard were closed, but that wasn't unusual. Only a breeze swirling through the empty halls and the bone-chilling cold of the castle greeted me.

I wasn't convinced. It wasn't just Ossian and me who had access to magic—the entire Brotherhood did. Any one of them could be cloaking themselves right now, and I had no desire to run into anyone except the friendly old badger of a housekeeper and cook. Worrying my bottom lip between my teeth, I debated whether or not to use the Scouting Spell and search for anyone nearby with magical sonar. But that was an active ping, revealing my location in the process if they were fast enough to catch the ping and return it. And they were.

Old-fashioned stealth it is , I decided.

No one discovered me sneaking down into the kitchen, not even the kind old badger. As the castle was built into the side of a hill, the lower level that housed the sprawling kitchen was insulated by ground and thus not as cold as the rest of the castle. My breath didn't frost here.

The blue flames in the stone oven were sleeping, just licking over the coals, and wouldn't rouse unless Mrs. Bilberry asked them to. They were spelled to obey her command to cook, otherwise they just slept. Without the badger to rouse the fire, there was no point in trying to cook or bake anything, so I rooted around for leftovers. Sawyer pushed his head free of the bag to help direct my search with the aid of his nose, especially since the kitchen had no refrigerator. The castle had a root cellar, but that was under lock and key. You ate at the prescribed times, or you didn't eat at all.

And yet, the scent of freshly baked something infused the air, and there were juice stains on the prep table and vegetable scraps piled in the tub sink.

"Something smells so good," Sawyer whined pitifully, whiskers twitching. "But where is it?"

"Mrs. Bilberry must've made something for the staff," I muttered, rifling through the shelves of dry goods. "I think we might be in for tinned beans and yesterday's bread."

"Look for some tuna. I'll go find a can opener."

"No you will not. What if somebody sees you?"

"But—"

"Milady," exclaimed an elderly voice by the stairwell.

I smooshed down on Sawyer's head, stuffing him back into the foraging bag as I whipped around to find the badger dressed in her ruffled apron and holding an empty silver tray.

"Mrs. Bilberry," I said, not knowing what else to say.

"Milady," she began again, "what are you doing down here?"

The kitchen wasn't necessarily off-limits, but it was her sanctuary, much like the east wing was mine. I respected that and never came down without asking her permission first, especially if I wanted to bake something.

"Uh, looking for a snack?" I answered.

The badger tsked and shook her head at me, padding the rest of the way down the stairs and into the kitchen proper. "I just brought it up to the atrium, milady. You know, where your friends are waiting for you?"

"What?" My friends were here? I wasn't scheduled to see them today.

"They've been there half the morning, and I wasn't about to see our guests go hungry! And, if I should be so bold to say, get those long legs of yours moving. It's impolite to keep them waiting this long."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bilberry!" I said, hurrying past.

Her momentary agitation at me vanished and she just waved a black paw in farewell. "Enjoy yourself, milady."

Someone had set up a little wooden table and four chairs in the atrium, a red tablecloth matching the fat red cushions of the chairs. The table had been set for afternoon tea, though it was still on the morning side of noon. Steaming pasties were stacked high next to a crystal dessert tower filled with custard tarts and persimmon pudding.

"Move faster," Sawyer urged, his little pink nose twitching frantically.

Seated around the table were Flora and Shari, and Daphne had her large square horse teeth clamped on the back of a chair and was in the process of dragging it out of the way. Charlie was there, too, absent his enthusiastic brother Cohen, sitting beside the porcupine and quietly conversing. It was clear he was trying to remain professional, but the tip of his black tail wouldn't stop wagging. Around his neck was a barrel of beer or apple cider, maybe even brandy, but the porcupine was too preoccupied with her crochet to unhook it, and the honey badger was so face-deep in the pasties that she probably had no idea the Labrador retriever was even there.

Yet at the sound of my approach, Flora lifted her head from her devouring, flaky bits of crust clinging to her muzzle. She exclaimed something unintelligible behind a mouthful of food, so it was up to Shari to greet nervously, "Hello, Meadow." The porcupine had an untouched lemon tart on her plate.

"Milady," Charlie said, immediately rising and padding over to me. He sat once more and lifted his chin, allowing me access to the little barrel. "From Cernunnos."

I unhooked the barrel, thanked the dog, and set it on the table without opening it. Shari's eyes lifted from her crochet to the barrel, then they darted towards the Labrador.

"Bye, Charlie," she whispered.

His tail betrayed him, giving one big swipe from side to side until he mastered his emotions. "Bye, Miss Shari." Then the dog trotted away, a spring to his step.

The porcupine watched him go, her fingers absolutely still until even his shadow was gone. With a little sigh, she twisted around and impaled both the ball of yarn and her current work on the quills along her back, then turned back to the lemon tart on her plate.

"What are you all doing here?" I asked, dropping down into the remaining seat and grabbing a pasty with one hand and a big cloth napkin in the other. I draped one half of the napkin on my lap, placed the pasty where Sawyer could reach it, then folded the remaining half of the napkin over his head. The cat spared no time wiggling his head free of the bag and tearing into the food; the scents of salmon and leek wafted up to my nose a moment later.

"Visiting you, dear," Daphne said, stretching her long white neck across the table to lip up a custard tart topped with a glazed apple floret.

"But we're not supposed to be here," Shari whispered, looking around. Her nails drummed against the edge of her plate. "It's not Thursday. We're here ahead of schedule. Something's not right. Do you think he knows about yesterday?"

"Of course not," the mare soothed. But she gave me a worried glance anyway. "You did make it back in time, didn't you?" she whispered. "You and your little friend?"

"Yes, and I used the moonflower just this morning," I whispered, glancing about. "I'm not sure exactly how helpful it was, but it was something." Then I eyed the honey badger, preparing to ask if she knew why her name was in my notebook and why it insinuated she could do magic, when the porcupine said in a frantic little squeak,

"Well if your little fieldtrip to the farmhouse—Daphne told me—is still a secret and that cat you've got in that bag on your lap—again, Daphne—hasn't been discovered, then what are we doing here?" Her quills, which she normally kept flattened out of fear of stabbing someone, had only flared with each word, and now she resembled a massive pincushion.

"Listen, if he rounded us all up with the perverse motive to beguile us with snacks before letting the hammer fall," Flora said, her mouth finally clear enough that she could speak without risk of biting her tongue, "I'm going to play along and at least get my belly full before being thrown into prison. We never get snacks here. Almost makes up for the high-handedness of our arrival, you know?" The honey badger added two pasties and another tart onto Shari's plate.

The porcupine's wide eyes slitted, and she used one long nail to poke everything to its own section of the plate so nothing was touching. Then she returned to her anxious nail-drumming. Rat-ta-ta-tah. Rat-ta-ta-tah.

"Can you believe he had the audacity to tell me I come along for girl time and deliver flowers?" Flora continued, moving on from the savory pasties to the desserts.

"You literally just did exactly that two days ago," Daphne pointed out.

"No, no, no," the honey badger said, lifting a claw. "That time he invited me to stay. This time, it was an order ."

"You're here as an apology to me," I told them, helping myself to a pasty. Beef and potato with carrots and peas and a thick onion-mushroom gravy. Oh, Mrs. Bilberry, you wonderful old badger.

Flora didn't need further explanation. "So how did the fae king screw up this time?"

"Flora," Daphne neighed, flinging her head up and flicking her ears to sense if anyone had heard.

"We were, um…" My cheeks were darker than the cranberry curd of those tarts.

"O-oh," the mare said, catching my embarrassment. "You don't need to say anything else, dear."

"We were making out in front of the bear," I said in a rush. "And—"

"Oh you little adrenaline-junky exhibitionist," Flora cackled. "That bear is terrifying. How did you ever—"

Daphne snapped her teeth perilously close to one of the honey badger's ears. "Quiet. You were saying, dear?"

"A-and it was just wrong , okay?" I shoved the rest of my pasty into my mouth and reached for another one.

My friends went silent, and I knew they were sharing some looks as I hunched over my plate. After fleeing to my room, I'd felt… dirty, and that had nothing to do with me retching into the toilet. I'd taken a bath immediately after, scrubbing every inch of me hard like I had a month's worth of grime on my skin. Then I'd tried to destroy some more of those chain mail links under my own power and unite with my oak tree, but my concentration had been fragmented, like bees buzzing around their hive all willy nilly instead of congregating inside. In the end, I'd just stroked and kneaded Sawyer's fur until the epiphany of the moonflower-milk bath had struck.

"Wrong enough for you not to marry him anymore?" Shari ventured. "That's a ruby engagement ring on your finger, isn't it?"

"Oh!" Daphne cried. "Congra—" She cut herself off, blustering with embarrassment.

Curse her hyper-detail-oriented brain , I thought of Shari, though I truly wasn't angry with her. I hadn't known what I was going to do, so I hadn't taken the ring off. Something niggled at me, something persuading me never to remove the ruby jewelry he'd given me. The fated mate bond and its conviction we could get through anything, no doubt.

"I haven't decided," I mumbled.

The mare nuzzled my shoulder. "Well, nothing a little communication can't fix, I'm sure."

"‘Communication?' Oh, we're well past that and deep in throat-chewing territory!" Flora blustered, slamming her paws down on the table and spearing four pasties under her claws. They exploded gravy-coated beef onto the stone floor and splattered salmon and leek all over Shari's quills, narrowly missing her crochet project and the yarn stuck there. The porcupine sighed, and I leaned forward, wiping her face clear with a napkin before sneaking that napkin onto my lap for Sawyer to pick clean.

"Flora," Daphne admonished yet again.

"No! He hurt our cider witch, and I am not going to let that go without getting a pound of flesh. Maybe two! How can you just stand there and—"

The mare stamped her hoof. "Cernunnos is the King of Beasts. The king . Any action must be from careful consideration, not from a brash impulse. And don't you dare accuse me of not having Meadow's back! Why, if it weren't for my distraction, yesterday could have turned out quite different. I took this for the both of you." She swiveled her hindquarters around for us to see a long nasty scratch along her left flank. It had been stitched up carefully and with a precision that none other than Shari possessed.

Daphne snapped her teeth at the honey badger again and then chomped down on another tart, this one strawberry. "Now you've got me stress eating."

"Oh, Daphne." I stood, reaching out a hand. I hadn't had enough of my core freed to even consider healing anything before now, but with only the canopy under the cursed net, I could at least take away some of her pain. "Let me help."

"Save your magic for yourself," she told me, not unkindly. "I'll heal up just fine."

"And the scar will be thin," Shari pointed out with a note of pride. Finally, she started eating, her bulbous nose wiggling with delight as she tasted her first bite of lemon tart.

Flora tore free one of the pasties still impaled on her nail and chomped down. "So the king proposed, did he?" she mused, crumbs cascading from her mouth and landing on her plate with soft tink-tink-tinks . "You both going to stay in Elfame, then?"

"I don't know," I answered, fiddling with the ruby engagement. My need to go to Elfame had never felt like something permanent.

"So what happens to us?"

Startled, I asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, we're his court. Are we all expected to go with you? A lot of us grew up in Redbud, have our homes and families and businesses here. And if we don't, what then? What happens to us?"

"She's talking about infrastructure," Shari clarified, quickly returning to her lemon tart.

"There'll be a power gap, to be sure, and no one to defend us against the mallaithe and sluagh and all the rest." Daphne shivered, her white coat rippling and catching the light. Fleeting rainbows scattered across the stone floor.

"Whatever happens, you will not be defenseless," I promised. "He asked me to be his queen, and I'll have the power to—"

"Meadow."

All four of us froze at the sound of that deep, velvety voice.

Shari spat out the bit of lemon tart she'd been chewing onto her plate and ducked down in her seat, just her quills sticking above the table top.

"Cernunnos," Daphne said, bowing her head as I swiveled around in my seat, careful to keep Sawyer hidden under the napkins and table cloth.

"Yes?" I asked icily, refusing to budge.

The fae king stood under the archway whose passageway led to the rose courtyard, his posture impeccable but relaxed. Barefooted and dressed in those tight buckskin trousers and loose linen shirt, the V open enough to reveal a tantalizing amount of sculpted muscle, he looked like one of the heroes on the covers of Lilac's romance novels. He oozed the calm and arrogant confidence all gorgeous males seemed to possess, and despite the seducing touch of the golden haze at the edge of my mind, I chose to remain immune to his influence.

"It's time for training."

"I'm not done visiting with my friends."

Ossian wet his lips at my defiance, but his shoulders remained loose, unburdened by angry tension. "We have a schedule to keep, Meadow. As well as a bargain."

The schedule I could've ignored, but the bargain… There would be dire consequences if I didn't open the portal to Elfame three days before the winter solstice. And I seemed so far away from becoming one with my magic.

"Decide your heart and the rest will follow." Yeah, thanks for being all cryptic, Violet.

I turned back around in my chair to give Sawyer enough time to stuff himself back into the foraging bag, then scooched my chair back with deliberate slowness before rising. "I'm not done visiting with my friends, so they're coming to dinner."

The fae king's jewel-bright eyes glittered, but I just stared back at him, chin held high. A queen was a king's partner, not some fancy wife, and my needs mattered. I thrust that at the golden haze that coiled at the edges of my mind.

Ossian must've felt it, for he nodded once. Then he looked beyond me at my friends. "Please, ladies, enjoy the rest of the food, but don't spoil your appetites for later. You are free to amuse yourselves in the gardens until supper, or return to your work. Except you, gardener. You've not the time to return to your nursery and back again before sundown and I won't spread the Brotherhood thin on your protection detail."

The honey badger looked like she had a thing or two to say about needing any sort of protection, but then the porcupine lifted a paw from where she cowered under the table, grabbed a fistful of fur, and yanked her into silence.

Then Ossian gave me a look that demanded I obey. As I left my friends, he held out his arm like I was some falcon expected to perch there. Ignoring him, I marched right past him and led the way to the rose courtyard myself.

Having not said a word to me the entire way to the courtyard, I was convinced Ossian was as content to ignore me just as I was him until he stopped in front of the worn wooden door and crossed his arms over his chest. Now the tension in his shoulders that had been so distinctly lacking in the atrium appeared, and his countenance hardened.

Exposed to the December air whipping in from the arrowslits, a pink flush came to his bronze cheeks. It swayed in his copper curls and swept against his white linen shirt like it was a sail, revealing and concealing swaths of toned muscle. His jewel-bright eyes sparkled in the sun, and I cursed whoever was responsible for making him so devastating beautiful.

"Yes?" I prompted, determined not to be swayed by his physical appearance.

"I am the king and you will not embarrass me in front of my subjects," he growled.

"I am to be your queen, and you will not shame me in front of my friends!" The same breeze that teased his curls seemed intent on lashing my dress about my ankles and sending an icy updraft against my thighs, but my anger was keeping me plenty warm. "Or anyone else, for that matter."

Ossian crossed his arms over his chest, setting his jaw. "This is about the bear."

How could he say that so stoically? To insinuate I was wrong to feel so violated— "Of course this is about the bear! How could you—"

"How could I?" His arms dropped as his took a step forward, looming over me. "Because I am fae , Meadow, that's why. It is our custom to degrade our enemy, to flaunt in their faces every comfort they will never know again. They must know their defeat is complete.

"That bear is chained in the great hall not just because of his size, but so he may see and smell but never taste the delicacies on that table. He is chained so he might never know freedom again. And I… aroused you there, primarily for your own enjoyment, but to show him that he will never experience such ecstasy, or love, ever again."

"Ossian, that's barbaric!"

"By human standards, maybe, but not fae." He seized my hand, brought it to his cheek, then slid it to the side to mold against his ear. The golden aura of his skin shimmered, and I felt a distinctly non-human pointedness to the ear's tip beneath my fingers. "I project this, this perception of me to make it easier on you, on all of them. But I am fae, Meadow, through and through. Were you like me, you would've eagerly allowed me to pleasure you in front of that bear. Would've delighted in it. And not with your clothes on, either. The sight of your bare breasts under my hands would've driven him absolutely—"

"Stop it," I snapped, pulling away and hugging my arms around myself. "Stop it, Ossian."

"Meadow," he said, his voice once again calm and soothing. "Do not hate me for being what I am." He reached for me, but I took another step away, keeping my gaze downcast. Refused the connection between us that manifested when our eyes met.

"That bear is not just my prisoner, Meadow. He's ours . Do you remember why?"

Confused, for I had only known the grizzly to be Ossian's enemy, I searched my memory and found whatever I was searching for locked behind Grandmother's maelstrom.

"Do you remember why you're terrified of that beast?"

I shook my head, angry at the curse-induced amnesia and feeling vulnerable because of it.

"Because he almost stole you away from me. You were always meant to be mine, Meadow Ní Violet. Our union was determined long ago, but outside forces succeeded in keeping us apart." His finger slipped under my chin, forcing me to lift my eyes from the floor to his perfect face. "That bear is the last of them, and he will know his defeat is absolute. You are mine ."

I hadn't known that about the bear, that he had tried to steal me away from Ossian. Was my terror of him some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder from the kidnapping? I couldn't remember, so I had to rely on what I knew. Particularly about myself and my character.

"I am not fae," I told him firmly, lifting my chin from his finger and reestablishing my independence. "I'll never agree to be used in such a way. Ever. But… I understand that you are not human, that your customs are different. Chain him, deprive him of everything but the most tasteless of food, fine , but never use me like that to torture the bear again. Do you understand me?"

The fae king nodded. "Never again. And… I'll try to be more sensitive about such things. Though, I cannot promise to be so thoughtful in the heat of the moment. It will take time." He paused, taking a step closer. This time, I didn't move away, but I didn't invite his touch, either. He continued in a softer tone, "But when we are settled in my home court, I will make it a priority to be more accommodating."

"And what of your court here?" I asked, Flora's concerns coming to mind. "What happens to everyone when you leave?"

"When I leave, Meadow?" His gaze dropped to my hands.

I hadn't realized I'd been toying with the ruby engagement ring, working it loose on my finger either to pluck it off or adjust it to fit more snugly.

I ignored his implied question. "What becomes of Redbud? Are you going to leave everyone behind to be terrorized by the mallaithe and sluagh here?"

"Of course not. They will be left in Alec's care."

"Alec?" I sputtered.

"He has been loyal second, Meadow, and I will see that rewarded." His tone brooked no further discussion on the matter.

Some small piece of me conceded that at least Ossian wasn't leaving them high and dry… but under Alec 's leadership? The man was a bully, a covetous and jealous bully . However, maybe those very attributes would make him work harder on securing the court once Ossian was gone—he wouldn't want anyone taking it away from him.

"Make a fae bargain with him, Ossian," I told him abruptly. "Make it so he cannot abuse the power you give him."

The fae king gave me a scrutinizing look. "Your friends hold too much sway over you. I will not cripple Alec's rule by building in loopholes for them to exploit."

"They're my friends! They wouldn't do that. Ossian, I just want your word that they'll be safe and happy. That's all that matters."

"Is it?" He paused, weighing my concerns with a frown. Then: "I cannot promise them happiness—that is an individual endeavor. But, if you wish it," the fae king said gently, "those who want to join us in Elfame, after my court is secured, may come. Though, they can only join us if you accompany me, Meadow, like you promised you would. Please… keep the ring?"

I was still fiddling with it, undecided.

He took the opportunity of my indecision to step even closer, to wrap his arms around me, and suddenly the passageway wasn't so cold. It would be so easy to lean into him, to feel his strength and warmth envelop me. To let the golden haze curl around my consciousness and bleed away all my irritation and leave behind nothing but happiness. Allow the rubies at my throat and ears and finger to convince me I only held a deep, burning passion for this male.

Easy, but not right. I held my hand with the ring up between us.

"I want to be worthy of this ring, but you need to be worthy of it, too," I told him.

His jewel-bright eyes met mine and burned with an intensity I couldn't name. "I will be," he said, taking the ring and pushing it down to the base of my finger. The golden haze swept harder around me then, and his hand moved to cup my cheek. "Do you love me, Meadow?"

There was only one answer I could give him. "You've stolen my heart, Ossian."

His smile was soft, and, keeping one arm around me, he pushed open the door to the courtyard and guided me inside. "Then, my queen, let's prepare you for your future station."