She raises her hand the same way Seraphyne did when she meant to hit me.
But I am no longer trapped in service to that spoiled greenhouse serpent.
I grip the trowel Brelliard’s sister found for me—technically a poop scoop for the animals in the pens, but I chose to call it a trowel. Main point: it has a pointed end I will not hesitate to use.
Sketching out a plan to stab her in one of her glowing blue eyes, I say, “Bring it on, weed worm. I have absolutely nothing to lose.”
The beautiful female steps forward with a menacing hiss.
“Yilara!” Veyrion holds up a hand, and it stops her in her tracks. “You will cease arguing with my Oblation and leave her punishment to your sovereign.”
The fae he calls Yilara immediately lowers her hand and steps back, though not before flashing her fangs at me.
“Goats, retire for the night so that you are fit for duty in the morn,” Veyrion commands. “And gravels, attend to your duties.”
As Yilara and everyone around me scurries to obey, Ireallywant to point out that the moons haven’t even risen yet, so technically, none of the servants are due at work.
But before I can, the Stone Fae King takes me firmly by the arm and starts pulling me toward the castle’s back doors.
“As for you, little troublemaker,” he murmurs, “you are coming with me. This eve’s punishment will indeed be long.”
Then he leans down and speaks his smoke-and-glass voice directly into my ear.…
“And trust… this time I will not stop until it is fully done.”
Job Dissatisfaction
SALLIE ROSE
He feeds me first,and I’m not sure whether to be grateful or more scared to find myself once again seated across from him at the private dining table just outside the kitchen, where the Mountain Goats have ceded their daytime posts to a much larger crew of Stone Fae.
But food is food, and I’ll take any delay in my punishment I can get.
“I see you’re in even less of a chatty mood tonight.” I watch him robotically eat a plate of cubed raw meat and vegetables, like it’s just another item on his to-do list.
No answer.
“Well, I just about talked myself raw with the unexpected liege of goats who came out to help me with the garden,” I let him know. “So to be honest, I really don’t mind eating in silence at all.”
“Yet you continue to talk.”
“So youwantme to stop talking?” I ask.
“If I say no, will that not make you talk more so as to continue this ill-advised game of chipping away at my stone?”
“Geez. The way you sayill-advised. You could teach a villain class on how to be truly scary.”
“So then, that is a yes?” he guesses.
Correctly.
With an impish smile, I admit, “Yes. Telling me to stop talking would only make me talk more.”
He raises an eyebrow. “And if I say, ‘No, I do not wish you to stop talking?’”
I actually take time to consider my answer before deciding out loud, “I’ll assume you’re full of fertilizer and keep talking anyway. The thing is, after spending all day with the goats, I havesomany questions.”
“Like what?”
