When she spoke, the terror and trembling from the prison had all left. She was as confident as she’d been in the Summer Realm. And she addressed the soldier who had attacked her. “What would happen if a fae broke a vow he’d made?”
He shook his head. “I can’t knowingly break that vow. My body would freeze or my mouth would refuse to say anything that my magic recognizes as a violation of that promise. It’s not physically possible.”
She reached across Parcival, and I took her hand. It was the only way I could interact with her if she couldn’t look at me. “Then, if you think he’s safe, I likehis idea. In case anyone else has concerns about me that are similar to the ones he had.”
I nodded. “Done. I’ll see you both in a few hours.” I squeezed Auria’s hand and spun away from them all. I would enter the palace through the shadows.
Chapter 9: Auria
Itapped my fingers against the windowsill, watching the sun rise and contemplating the fifty-foot drop. The tower was made from stones that would have been easy to grip if I wanted to climb out the window, but…
Climbing for fifty feet? That was outside my comfort level.
I turned back to face Bylur’s rooms. My rooms. They were also outside my comfort level. I felt like I’d snuck into someone else’s palace. This space could not possibly be mine. The luxurious bed with softer blankets than I’d ever touched in my life? Too rich for a thief. The gorgeous dressers made from white wood with black accents? Too fancy for a maid. The closet with running water to clean the chamber pot and fill the bath basin any time I wanted? Clearly magic. Not even human.
And an entire sitting room adjacent to the bedroom? And another office next to that?LordBylur should have told me he was basically a prince.
Of course, he had tried to tell me there was more I needed to know, but we hadn’t had a chance. Once Parcival had brought me up here, I was exhausted. He’d promised to send up food, but if he’d remembered, it had arrived after I fell asleep. I didn’t even notice Bylur come in.
Bylur.
Had he slept in the bed last night? Had we started his one-year timer? I stared at the door that led out of the sitting room and into the hallway where Amatavi had been standing last time I’d peeked out. I wanted to go find that bear and ask him some of my questions.
But he’d be hiding somewhere. He told me himself that most of his people didn’t know about the curse.
My stomach rumbled. I’d eaten the apple I stole yesterday while I watched the sun come up. Yesterday, I’d only had some bread. Now, I was hungry enough to eat Rat’s sunflower seeds.
As if summoned the bird flew in the open window, landed on a chair back facing the door out of the sitting room, and chirped one of his encouraging sounds.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I want to go out too. But I don’t want to talk to Amatavi again.” That particular soldier did not scare me anymore, but talking to him was awkward.
The bird chirped and flew in front of the door a few times.
“Fine.” I dusted my hands on my skirts—the same skirts I’d worn for weeks. They felt terribly out of place in a palace like this, but I didn’t have anything else. “Let’s see what’s out there.”
I opened the door and, to my relief, the hall was empty. Amatavi must have finally finished his shift. At the end of the hall, a strong scent cut through everything else on my mind: Bread.
Fresh bread. My stomach rumbled again, and Rat landed on my shoulder. “Do you smell that, buddy? We’re going to go find it. Right now.”
Nothing else mattered. I lost track of which halls and stairwells I took, but I knew I was on the right path because that fresh yeast smell grew stronger every time I turned a corner. I had to stop and wait a few times for other fae to walk past—I didn’t want to talk to anyone before I ate.
Finally, I stopped behind a wall on the ground floor and peeked around the corner. Just ahead, the source of all happiness glowed with heat and sweet aromas: the kitchen.
I stayed behind the corner for a few minutes, tracking the patterns of who came and went, how often, and if they were taking food out or bringing dirty trays back. When I was sure I’d have half a minute, I darted out of my hiding spot, snuck into the kitchen, and ducked behind a cupboard near the back of the room.
On the far side of the kitchen, a door was propped open to let the heat from baking drift outside. But only two counters away from me, rows and rows of beautiful, long baguettes lined up, as if displaying themselves for me to choose the most perfect one to eat.
The woman in charge—fae, probably—carried a long baking sheet to another woman at a sink. Two younger fae—an adolescent girl and an even younger boy—collected dishes from another man at the entrance to the kitchen. “Another pile for you,Monspen,” the adolescent girl called out as she plopped the dirty dishes next to the sink.
Monspen settled a stack of bowls into the sink. “It’ll start slowing down soon.”
“I hope so,” the younger boy whined. “They’re taking longer than normal.”
The other adult carried a bowl full of dough she was kneading closer to the boy and started lecturing him on how some days are like that, especially with so many visitors. I took her lecture as an opportunity to grab a baguette and slip outside.
The kitchen door opened to a patch of frozen grass with a nice cobbled walking path that I followed around the building until I came to a fountain with benches on one side and a hedge maze on the other. I settled down on the bench, glad it wasn’t wet or frozen. Rat landed next to me.
“You’re not supposed to eat bread,” I said while I sprinkled some of the crust’s crumbs in front of him. “It’s not nearly as good for you as your other favorite foods.”
