Despite the beauty, I couldn’t fight the pain building inside of me any longer. Tears burned the corners of my eyes and spilled down my dress. Through the tears, Rafia dimmed the lights, lit a warm fire, and helped me undress. I collapsed in a heap of fitful tears as Rafia let herself out and shut the door with a final thud.
A brisk knockwoke me from my restless sleep.
“It is me, Miss.” Rafia’s gentle voice broke through the pillows and blankets I’d barricaded myself in with. “It’s a little past noon and…well, I have the first order from the king.”
“The firstorder?” I shook the heady sleep from my head. I was used to waking well before the sun, but it seemed with all the crying and emotion from my first night, I’d slept in. Served that dreadful king right.
Rafia pulled open the curtains, exposing an overwhelming view of rolling hills and elven homesteads outside of myenormous rooms. No, I had not conjured up this whirlwind fairytale. It was real, down to the noonday sun outside my doors.
“The king will not even allow me a day to come to terms with my new life?” I huffed as I stood on wobbly legs.
“I’m afraid I am to show you to your kitchen right away, Miss.” Rafia hurried over with an unnatural speed and steadied me.
I sighed and pulled from Rafia’s gentle grasp. “I’m fine.”
I would do this on my own. The king would not break me.
I held my hand out for the order. Rafia curtsied and placed a thick piece of parchment in my palm, which I took a bit too forcefully. My hopes of being an independent baker crumbled like an overbaked biscuit. The fine penmanship was written in the language of the elves. Elegant slanting runes of hopelessly unreadable delicate writ. I guess I couldn’t do thisallon my own. I couldn’t read the elder-tongue so I handed the letter back. “What does it say?”
Rafia looked it over with those wide magenta eyes of hers. “Ah yes, says here that His Majesty expects fifty rolled pastries of cinnamon with icing for tomorrow morning’s breakfast.”
Of course, the same ones he’d tasted yesterday. Was it only yesterday morning that everything had gone so wrong? I had half a mind to bake the most rotten cinnamon rolls I could muster.
“And what if I…displease the king?” I asked tentatively.
Rafia’s head shot up. “Oh no, Miss, that will not do. The king is not to be trifled with. If he does not get what he wishes, you will not be the only one who suffers.”
Rafia’s eyes darted to the floor. The message was clear. She would also suffer somehow. That fear in her eyes had been real. There was something very dark about this place. So beautiful and enchanting, it was easy to miss the dark creeping undertones ofwrong.
I threw on my best work dress and apron, pulled my brown curls back with a handkerchief, yanked on my boots, then strapped my satchel containing my cookbook and spoon across my chest. All of my most valuable possessions were contained in this small satchel of mine. They seemed to nudge me forward, as if eager. “Rafia, please take me to my kitchen.”
Rafia fixed her dark pink eyes on my state of dress, clicked her tongue once with raised eyebrows, most likely finding my state of dress abysmal, then nodded. “This way, Miss.”
I followed behind at a quick pace. Rafia was most likely hundreds of years older than me, and beautifully plump, but she moved with a quick grace that I’d seen in all the elves. I scrambled to keep up. Rafia led me through a maze of hallways and down five flights of stairs until we reached the ground level. So far, we hadn’t run into any of the royal elves as we roamed through the back of the palace, thank Christmas. I didn’t know what I’d do if I happened into that hateful king. We passed by several servants going about their duties and they stared, as if startled by my presence, then bowed.
We neared a large curving alcove, and beyond it, well, despite my best efforts of not being overwhelmed, the view took my breath away. Roses of every color, some quite unlike any in the human realm, bloomed richly in the golden afternoon light. Past the throes of roses, thick flowering rosemary and sweet dill blossomed, quite out of season.
I pulled in a deep breath of the flowering dill. Here among the herbs and greenery, I could almost imagine I was in my own meager little garden behind my bakery if I ignored the massive white palace of stone directly behind me.
“Before we go any further,” Rafia stopped, her magenta eyes wide with a hint of…could that befearI sensed? A strange reaction to the decadent gardens that surrounded us. “Thereis one very important rule. You are never to come out to the grounds alone, Miss.”
“What? Why?” I pursed my lips, anger flushing through me. Of course the elves didn’t trust me to be on my own. The finery and beauty almost made me forget for just a moment that I was a prisoner here. “Afraid I’ll run away?”
“No,” Rafia’s eyebrows flew up with absolute surprise. “I would never insinuate. No, please, Miss.” Rafia stammered as she shook her head. “There is something out there… that I am not at liberty to discuss. Best not to traverse the gardens alone.”
“Somethingout here?” I balked. “Like a nice sweet little something or an evil something skulking around dark corners?”
What could be lurking among the herbs here that could cause Rafia such true fear? Her eyes darted about on high alert.
“There are rumors of wild animals slipping through the Falls. Livestock and crops being torn apart.”Sam’s words sounded in my mind.
My stomach dropped. Surely that was just a roaming pack of wild wolves in the human realm, and we were miles and miles away from there.
But Sam had said the creatures had broken through The Falls, which meant they came from somewhere within the realm of the elves. Could the beasts be born of the elven lands somehow?
Rafia’s face flushed, and she swallowed loudly. “Please, Miss, I have said too much. Just stay close to the palace and never traverse the gardens alone. Any other questions must be addressed directly to the king.”
My insides flushed uncomfortably at the mention of that cursed male. “I don’t imagine I will get much time to chat with the all-important king.”
