10. Calvin

CALVIN

B all preparations are well under way, and I'm right smack dab in the middle of them.

Standing in the middle of the ballroom is probably a bad idea, but my executive functioning decided not to come into work today and I'm left stranded as bees buzz around me.

"Excuse me, excuse me, pardon me, Caretaker," one of the honeybees calls out in a sing-songy voice as she brushes past me. Her wings graze my arm, and some pixie dust blows into my face, making me sneeze. Banquet tables are being set up, and a trio of musicians stroll into the room, carrying their instruments.

The instruments in question look like nothing I've ever seen before. Their oblong bodies appear to be made of acorn and walnut shells and … wait, are those spider webs for strings? Huh. I wipe my glasses clean and put them back on my face to look again. Yeah, they're definitely spider web strings.

"Caretaker!" Polina descends on me before I even see her, and she pulls me off to the side, out of the way of incoming honeybee traffic. "What are you doing up so early? Did Ser Beatrix come and get you?"

I look her up and down quickly, and heat flushes across my cheeks. She's wearing a golden corset today, with transparent cap sleeves that shimmer with her movements. Her prominent breasts practically spill over the top of her corset, commanding attention. It takes every ounce of willpower I have to not stare at them, and I almost step on the hem of her glittery white skirt as she moves closer.

Meanwhile, I'm still in the same outfit from yesterday, because I don't have a change of clothes. My body is clean thanks to the bath, but my shirt and pants could use a wash. I wonder if they have laundry service here?

I shake my head of pixie dust and sneeze again. "Yeah, she did. And then she offered me some breakfast and brought me down here to wait for your aunt," I say.

Polina's face scrunches up adorably. "No, no. You're not spending any time with her today. You'll be with me."

I run a hand through my hair and sigh. Since there was no comb in the washroom, I've still got a bad case of bed head and probably look like a mess. "I hate to keep bothering you like this when you're all going to so much trouble, but I really need to know if anyone has seen my Shrinkatron?"

Polina purses her lips. "No. I'm afraid not. I have no news for you. I'm still waiting for the night guard to return from their patrol. But the moment they do, I will let you know."

It's the best I can hope for, I suppose. Majordomo Elza wafts into the room like she owns the place, her own dress of black chiffon fluttering with every step. Her hair is done up in a beehive style, which would be funny if not for the scowl etched on her face. When she sees the pair of us, she heads our way. My throat tightens. I don't like her, and I can understand why Polina doesn't, either. The majordomo is intimidating, and I'm still not sure how to talk to her. But then another figure walks through the twin doors. Florian. This morning, he's wearing a brocade double-breasted vest and finely tailored trousers. His slender abdomen barely sways as he walks, and most of his face is obscured beneath his opulent mask.

He surveys the room for a few seconds before his eyes land on us, then he makes his way over behind Majordomo Elza.

"Oh, wonderful, wonderful," Majordomo Elza coos, flourishing her four arms in the air. "You're awake, Caretaker! How did you sleep? Well enough, I trust. We have the most comfortable beds, do we not?"

I open my mouth to answer her, but she whirls on Polina, obviously not interested in me after all.

"My dear, why are you not tending to the musicians? They have no idea what you'd like for them to play."

Polina puffs out her cheeks like a chipmunk. "I told them to play whatever they like. I don't have a preference."

"Good morning, Caretaker," Florian says as he approaches me. One of his hands darts forward to take mine, and he shakes it roughly. "I can finally greet you properly. I never got the chance at dinner to welcome you to our humble hive."

I look him up and down and force myself to smile. "Thank you. You can all just call me Calvin, by the way, I?—"

"Polina, my sweet," he interrupts, turning away from me. O … kay. "The chefs are upset. They say you haven't spoken with them yet, and they need you to sign off on the three courses they plan to serve tomorrow night."

Polina throws her arms up in the air and lets out an agitated buzzing sound that makes my head vibrate. I clap my hands over my ears and wince.

"I already told them that what they planned on making was fine! Why do they need me to check on them again? I'm not a brood cell tender!"

Majordomo Elza moves forward, snatches my arm, and pulls me away from Polina and Florian. "Come, Caretaker, let us take that tour I promised you?—"

"No!" Polina snarls, and before I know what's going on, she grabs my other arm and pulls me against her bosom. Heat floods my body as I realize her ample breasts are smashed up against my chest and she's holding me like her own prized possession. "He stays with me. I told you that this morning!"

Blinking, I look down at her and murmur, "Po? Uh, if you have work you need to do, I'm sure it's fine if your Aunt takes me around and shows me the palace. I've been curious about it."

But her grip? Still solid. Her expression? As fierce as ever. I gulp as she hugs me tightly until her breasts practically pop out of the top of her corset.

"Po…" I say again.

Finally, Polina's expression dissolves, and she looks down at me. "Po," she repeats. "My mother used to call me that when I was little."

Florian steps forward and places his hand on my shoulder. "My dear? I think you might be hurting our beloved Caretaker," he says in a gentle tone. Only then does Polina's grip ease up a little, until finally, she releases me entirely. Whatever happened just now seems to have passed. But when I look up at into Polina's eyes, I notice there's no hint of emotion in them. It's like she's far, far away.

"What's wrong?" I murmur. "Are you okay?"

She shakes her head. More pixie dust flies off her, and I hold back the urge to sneeze.

"She's fine. She just gets a little possessive and controlling sometimes," the male says.

Polina shoots him a glare. "Hush, Florian. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Listen, I have an idea. I know it's not my place—" I begin, but Majordomo Elza is already interrupting me and waving her hands in the air.

"Oh, no! Please, Caretaker! We are happy to listen and hear what you have to say! You are our beloved Caretaker, you are?—"

"Aunt Elza, can it," Polina growls. The pair share a look that can only be described as venomous, but Elza snaps her mouth shut. My office prepared me well for dealing with all sorts of different personalities, but even this is testing my patience. And my fuse is long. Probably too long.

I clear my throat and continue as they stare at me. Having three sets of big, black eyes peering at me is uncomfortable, so I look at my feet instead. "How about Florian speaks with the chefs, Majordomo Elza speaks with the musicians, and Polina gives me the tour of the hive? Y'know, delegate a little."

A strange sound gurgles from Majordomo Elza's throat, and Florian sniffs the air like I just dropped a bag of dog shit at his feet.

"That's a marvelous idea, Calvin," Polina says. I smile at her, happy that she's finally decided to drop the Caretaker title. "Why don't we do that? If that is what you wish, that is what you shall receive."

Majordomo Elza opens her mouth to argue, but Polina shakes her head sharply. "It's what he wishes."

Florian lets out a long, exasperated sigh and turns to walk away. "Fine, fine. I will go do your busy work for you, I suppose."

Polina's right eye twitches as Florian stalks away. "Hey, Florian! You're going to be dead soon, so maybe try to make something of yourself before then?"

Florian whirls around to shoot her four middle fingers.

I choke on my own saliva. Okay, so apparently that gesture means something in honeybee fae society, too. Good to know. If this is considered fae humor, then I am seriously screwed.

"Po-Polina," I stammer, looking back at her.

Majordomo Elza rolls her eyes and flounces away, her skirts fluttering behind her, without another word.

I look back at Polina and arch an eyebrow. "He's going to be dead soon, Po?"

My head is spinning, and my mouth is dry. So much for sensitivity.

Polina shrugs, like none of what just happened is a big deal. "Yes. Once we copulate on my maiden flight, he'll die immediately. I was hoping he'd try to make more of a name for himself before then, but he doesn't seem to care about anything at all."

My breath hitches. "I-I can't imagine why," I choke out.

I'm so screwed, aren't I?