8. Calvin

CALVIN

T he guest room is, unsurprisingly, carved out in a hexagonal cell on the other end of the palace. Ser Beatrix and I walked for what felt like forever until we reached a long expanse of hallways, passing more and more hexagons until I was dizzy and ready to collapse from exhaustion. The inside of the guest room, however, is surprisingly normal save for the honey dripping from the ceiling. There's a sturdy wooden bookshelf in the far corner beside a couple of plush chairs. Next to the queen-sized bed is a glass door that leads out onto a balcony.

I've never even stayed in a hotel room this nice before, and now here I am … in my new beehive, being treated like an honored guest.

"Er…" I look up at a tendril of gooey honey as it drizzles over one of the bookshelves. "That can't be good for the books."

Ser Beatrix chuckles. "I'll have one of our drones sent in right away to patch that up," she says before stepping toward yet another hexagonal doorway to the right of the bed. "Your private washrooms. Yes, there is water to run for a bath should you need it. And it's safe to drink, as well."

They have plumbing. How? I'd ask, but I'm too tired, and judging from the way Ser Beatrix's shoulders slump forward ever-so-slightly, she is, too. I skip the questions for now and nod as I follow her with my eyes, too afraid to move around the room in case I disturb something.

"And your bed, with extra linens underneath in the storage cabinet," she says, dropping down to her knees and opening the drawer for me to see. "Lots of pillows, should you need them. Is there anything else I can do for you, Caretaker?"

I shake my head. "Uh, no. Thank you, Ser Beatrix. I appreciate your hospitality. But … I was wondering when I might be able to go back … home? Just an ETA on that would be great."

Ser Beatrix blinks at me. Then she stands up and puts all four hands on her hips. "I'm sorry, Caretaker. I have absolutely no idea. But I believe the ball is in three turns of the sun."

Three days. I'm expected to stay here for three days, the size of a pea, when my Shrinkatron is still out for anyone to mess with. And Bonnet. Did anyone ever find her? I know my landlord knows her well, but with the community garden up there, anyone could have found her and taken her. The thought of someone stealing my cat makes me clench my jaw.

"Caretaker? You look unwell. Perhaps it'd be best for you to rest? I can send in a handmaiden to draw you a bath, if you'd like?" Ser Beatrix says.

I shake my head. "No, no, it's fine. I can do it myself. But I'd like to speak with Her Highness again as soon as possible, please."

Ser Beatrix gives me a sympathetic smile. "I will see what I can do, but I cannot make any promises, I'm afraid. She is a very busy bee."

I chuckle. Busy bee.

Ser Beatrix arches a bushy brow at me. "Is something funny?"

"No," I say, and drag a palm down my face. God, I really am exhausted. A nap sounds nice. But how can I sleep here when no one back home knows where I even am? I can't just disappear off the face of the earth for three whole days. I have a job. Oh, shit. If I don't call in, will they fire me? I can't get fired. Everything will fall apart if I lose my job.

Ser Beatrix squeezes my shoulder. I hadn't even realized she moved right in front of me. "I know this is probably a lot for you to deal with right now. But you won't be able to face any of it if you are drained."

She's right. I should conserve my strength so I can figure things out later. Ser Beatrix bids me a goodnight and leaves me alone in the room, and I unbutton my shirt and toss it onto the bed. These are the nicest linens I've ever seen. The comforter is made of plush velvet the color of wine, which contrasts sharply with the gilded walls.

The only lights in the room are candle flames ensconced in a rainbow of colored glass. Pretty. I unbuckle my pants next and toss those onto the bed, then strip out of my boxer briefs. I'm about to head into the washroom to draw a bath when a knock suddenly comes at the door. Panic takes over, and I bolt for the clothing on the bed, but it's too late.

"Caretaker? Caretaker, are you awake? It's Polina," the feminine voice on the other side of the door announces.

Crap. Polina? As in … the princess? The princess is on the other side of the door. I scramble for my clothes.

"Uh—yes! Just a minute!" I call back.

But then the door slides open as though by magic, and the princess steps inside just as I have one leg in my trousers. The rest of me, in all my flaccid glory, is displayed for her to see.

"Oh, god," I mutter. My cheeks feel like they're on fire.

Polina stands a few feet in front of the doorway, staring at me. Her big, black eyes move from my face and draw doooooown to my crotch. Her gaze narrows. And then she realizes what's happening, and she blinks once, twice, three times before she lets out a soft gasp.

"Oh! I am so sorry!" Two of her four hands fly to her mouth. The other two ball into tight fists at her sides. Then she whirls around, and I catch sight of her wings curled flat against her back as well as her enormous butt … er, abdomen, I suppose? It's hard to tell because it's underneath all that fabric.

I quickly pull my pants on the rest of the way, but skip the shirt. Good enough.

"Sorry, you can turn around now," I say.

Polina doesn't turn around immediately, though. Instead, she hovers by the doorway, like she's fighting with herself over whether she wants to stay or go.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," I say.

Polina slowly looks over her shoulder, and the twin antennae on her head flick back and forth. "No, this was entirely my fault. I apologize for intruding when you were trying to take a bath. I should have known better. Aunt Elza sends her regrets, by the way, but she cannot spare a moment to give you that tour this evening," she murmurs. She turns around the rest of the way, and her eyes immediately go straight to my chest. "You are still half undressed."

I nod. "Yeah, but it's fine. Most men walk around like this on the beach. It's not a big deal if you see me like this. Unless I'm committing a serious offense, of course. Then I'll put the shirt on."

Polina shakes her head as I reach for my shirt. "No, it's fine. I'm just surprised. I've never seen a human without his clothing on before," she says. "Or without the beekeeper attire, I should say."

I arch an eyebrow. "Really? But you're a … you're a bee. Don't you go out and fly around? See all sorts of sights?"

Polina's lips curl into a soft, amused smile. She's pretty. In a weird sort of way, of course. But pretty. Earlier I thought she was terrifyingly hot, but when she smiles like this, I can see the softness of her personality shine through. Not so terrifying, after all. My heart skips a beat as my cheeks become warmer and warmer with each passing second.

"No, I'm fae. We take on the appearance of bees in order to blend in with the rest of the natural world, so the humans don't interfere with our lives. We share many characteristics with the actual insects, but not all. And because I am the princess, I especially do not get to leave to ‘see all sorts of sights,' as you put it."

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I lower myself to sit on the edge of the bed. "There are actual bees, but also not actual bees. Right. Okay. Makes sense." It doesn't. "So, there are fae butterflies, too, I assume?"

Polina nods. "Oh, yes! Many! There are fae posing as thousands of different insects, of course. And some birds, as well. And we always take on many of the mannerisms of those we mimic."

I snort and drop my hand into my lap. "How about mice, then? Rats?"

Her face scrunches up, and she sticks out her long, black tongue. Oh, wild. "Oh, no. Ew. No. Of course not."

"Of course not," I mutter. "Why would you do that?"

She stares at me blankly, and I sigh. "I'm sorry," I say. "That was rude. I'm just stressed out. This has been an ordeal, and I'm worried about my cat."

Polina nods as she takes a few steps forward. The golden train of her skirts drags across the floor. "The fluffy white one on the rooftop?"

My eyes widen. "Y-Yeah. That's the one. You know her?"

"No, but I heard that the man with blond hair returned some time ago and retrieved her," she says. "At least, that is what my scouts reported."

Relief floods my body, and I let out a long exhale. Kyle. Kyle came up and found her. Good. He knows Bonnet. Hopefully, he'll take care of her until I can get back home.

"And my Shrinkatron?" I ask.

Polina's brows knit together. "I'm sorry. My scouts did not say."

Ugh. Okay, that's not good. What if someone messed with it while I was gone? Or worse, stole it? Most of the people in the apartment complex are decent, elderly folks who mind their own business to the point where you forget they're even there. But if Kyle could get up onto the rooftop without raising any red flags, anyone could.

Polina straightens and clasps her hands—all four of them—in front of her torso. "Ser Beatrix said you wished to speak with me as soon as possible." She smiles and dips into a little curtsy. "So, here I am."

My heart skips a beat. Suddenly, my cheeks are flushing for an entirely different reason.

"Something doesn't feel right about a queen doing a curtsy for a human guy like me," I say, rubbing the back of my neck, trying my best not to make eye contact with her. It's like if she can see my eyes, she can see the thoughts behind them. That she's making me blush. That I'm just an insecure nerd who doesn't know what he's doing. At all. And I hate being at such an enormous disadvantage.

Polina chuckles. And that, too, makes my stomach turn like I'm in a car that went around a bank too hard.

"I'm not a queen. I'm a princess for another two weeks! And you're the Caretaker. To us, you're … almost like a deity, I suppose. Like our blessed sun," she says as she makes her way over to one of the bookshelves. She runs her fingers across the book spines. "You give us life. Protect us from invaders. Of course I will show you the proper deference."

I smirk. "The sun is your deity?" Then I cross my arms in front of my bare chest. "You're putting me on par with the sun?"

She glances back at me, and her dark lashes flutter. My chest tightens. "Yes. Without you, there would be no hive. No us."

"You're giving me way, way too much credit," I say, then get up from the edge of the bed to stand beside her. "I only just got the job. And seeing as how I accidentally shrunk myself already, I can't say I'm doing a very good job at it, either."

Polina chuckles again and shrugs. "It's okay. We all make mistakes when we're new. But green or not, you are still our Caretaker, and we will afford you the proper respect. That is what you are owed."

"See, in university, my professors always told me that respect is earned, not given," I say. She trails her fingers along the books again and plucks one from the stack. I try to catch the title on the cover, but she flips through it too quickly for me to notice.

She shakes her head again, and flecks of golden glitter fall from her russet hair. But unlike real glitter that gets everywhere and is impossible to get rid of, hers simply evaporates in the air. Whatever just shimmered off of her was … organic.

"Pixie dust?" I say out loud, lifting my fingers to her hair. The scientist in me wants to bottle it up and take it back to the university to give to some of the microbiologists to study. But then Polina turns to snatch my hand in hers. My heart catches in my throat as she stares at me with her dark, cold eyes.

"Yes," she says carefully, her voice low and husky. A shiver passes down my spine and into my toes, curling them. "But you shouldn't touch a woman without her permission, Caretaker."

"I'm sorry," I say, and try to pull my hand free. But she doesn't let me go. Instead, she laces her fingers between mine as my heartbeat drills louder and louder in my ears. "I won't do it again, I promise, Your Highness."

She studies my face for a few moments, then releases my hand and turns back to the book. Whatever moment passed between us is now gone, just like the pixie dust that floated off the strands of her hair. I watch as she flips to another page, and I bite the inside of my cheek while I wait for her next reaction. She's an unpredictable force of nature wrapped up in an attractive golden package, and my gut tells me that I should be wary.

Polina whirls around, slamming the book shut. Instinctively, I take a few steps back, but she pushes the book into my chest.

"Read this to me," she says. It's not a request, it's a command. "Now."