We set our trays down on the table as more servants filter in with teas and cookies and all kinds of delicious smelling breads. As we line up along the wall, I take in the splendor of the uncut diamond light fixtures overhead, suspended in the air with no strings, no wires. They must be held in place by magic.
A hush settles over the space as the striking woman fromthe throne room, Queen Ilspeth, breezes through the door, her glittering gold skirts flapping gently behind her. I’m oddly fascinated by the way she moves. I always thought queens moved with slow, elegant grace. But her movements are feline, prowling, and sharp. A coiled snake ready to strike at any moment. She acknowledges no one as she sits at the head of the table at the far side of the room.
A moment later, my sister is ushered in by three pretty young women, who I can only assume are her ladies-in-waiting. They curtsy to the queen before taking their places near the princess.
Sam is dressed in a simple but lovely dove gray gown with fitted gossamer sleeves and a belt of opal around her waist. Her hair, an enviable shade of light brown, falls in gentle waves past her chest. I want to shout her name—make her acknowledge me. But I know that even one outburst—one wrong move here—could get me killed. The captain as much as said so.
Dad appears next, and I can feel his presence, his power, enter the room a moment before he does. I wonder exactly how that power manifests in this alternative version of him.
He, too, does not look at me. And I’m still pinching myself because no matter how bad this situation is, my dad is here. He’s alive in this world, and I don’t care if he knows who I am because I thought I would never see him again in my lifetime.
And if this all goes to hell in a handbasket, at least I will have gotten to see him one last time.
The captain enters behind him, his expression serious and hard. He’s without the armor today, dressed in a black long-sleeve tunic with slightly billowy sleeves. Its ties are unlaced, falling softly over his tan chest. Tight leather pants hug his legs before disappearing into tall riding boots. The belt at his hip conceals a dark longsword with an onyx hilt and a matching dagger. He ignores my presence completely.
I’m surprised to see that Jack takes a seat at my father’s right-hand side, directly across from Sam.
“Come along, missy.” Igrid nudges me to curtsy, and I follow her from the room.
She finds things to talk about while showing me the ropes around the castle. I listen, grateful for the distraction. After another hour or two of work, we head to the kitchen to find it empty and slide onto a wooden bench beneath the table. I sigh, stretching my arms over my head.
“Are you ever going to tell me your name, miss?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, yes. It’s Serena. Serena Avery.”
“What an interesting name. It’s lovely.”
“Thanks.”
“So, Serena Avery, how did a human come to be working as a servant at the castle? I haven’t seen one of your kind in ages,” she lilts, her voice melodic with a slight accent.
“How did you—” I start, but she gives me a knowing look.
“Wild guess.” She smiles warmly, tapping my rounded ear. “But your scent is different somehow. Not exactly human, but not fae either, something else. It’s quite singular.” She eyes me, her interest piqued.
“Oh.” I nod, not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing. I uh—I’m not from here, originally.”
Technically, it’s the truth. I just hope my vague answer fends her off from further questioning.
“Not from Aegar?”
“No, I mean not fromherehere. Solterre?” I whisper, leaning into her.
“How did you get through the portal?” She gapes at me, stunned.
A portal? A flash of hope sparks to life in my chest. Maybe I could get home through aportal.
“A little thing like you—how did you manage to get past the Guardians?”
“The Guardians?”
Her eyes widen into saucers. “Boy, you really aren’t from here, are you? The Guardians are the wardens at the portal, tasked with keeping out travelers from other worlds. I wouldn’t sick them on my worst enemy.”
Before I can answer, she glances down at Zadyn, who is weaving circles around my ankles.
“Goodness, is that a loyal creature.” She smiles, setting down a tray of bread and cheese in front of us.
“He’s my familiar.”
