She led me into the kitchen, to a counter I’d avoided because it was exposed to so many angles. On top of it, in a dozen neat, tidy rows, were hundreds of pastries on little plates. As I stared at the most perfect version of heaven, the fae child sidled up next to me. “Can I touch your bird?”
“Zorion!” Kusan glared at the waist-high boy.
“I don’t mind.” I reached into my pocket, pulled out a sunflower seed, and opened the boy’s hand, setting the seed in his palm. “If you hold this for him, he’ll come to you. His name is Rat.”
Zorion lifted his hand up higher, and I supported it by placing my hands underneath. A bird as tall as Rat could easily topple a child’s hand.
“Here ya’ go, Rat,” the boy sang, and I wiggled my shoulder. Rat hopped down, landed on Zorion’s hand, and picked up the seed with his beak. “He tickles!”
I tightened my hold on Zorion’s hand so he didn’t drop my bird, but Rat hopped back up to my shoulder anyway.
The adolescent girl scooted closer to us and softly said, “He’s really pretty.”
Kusan set a hand on her shoulder. “Yes. Let’s get back to work now. Lady Auria needs to get her breakfast, and we need to finish cleaning.” The door opened and another maid brought an armful of dishes to Monspen. When she turned to leave, her eyes landed on me, widened, and she dropped into a deep curtsy before muttering something and running out the door.
I picked out a pastry formed with swirls of cinnamon and frosting between layers of bread. It smelled like life itself. Grinning, I faced Kusan and the others. “I should have come in here weeks ago. Thank you.”
Kusan dipped her head. “You’re welcome back any morning. Or send a message if you’d like me to send something up to your room.” She patted the adolescent girl. “Shrevia would be happy to help.” The girl smiled and curtsied too.
I clutched my treat and hurried outside. They were lovely, but I didn’t want to stay long enough to say something embarrassing. Rat lifted off my shoulder. He’d found lots of favorite spots around the castle and spent more time away from me than hovering lately. Maybe he thought I didn’t need as much babysitting as when the elf had first given him to me. He was right—I’d never been safer in my life than I was now.
I settled onto my favorite bench, between the hedge maze and fountain, and started picking off pieces of pastry to enjoy one tiny bite at a time. A warmth emanated from the bench despite the sparkling ice and snow that surrounded us. I bet Bylur or someone had enchanted it so the fae could enjoy beautiful spots like this one without freezing to death.
Or did winter fae even care about cold? I should ask someone that—maybe at Afternoon Tea today.
A shadow crossed the stones around the fountain, and I looked up to see a tall fae woman with the same blue hair as Ephaltes emerging from the hedge. She quickly crossed the space to me and curtsied. “Lady Auria.”
I recognized her from spying on Bylur’s meetings, but I’d only ever spoken to her cousin. “Lady Eris?”
She bobbed her head quickly. “Yes. I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I must ask you to come into the hedge. There’s—a situation that I believe you should be apprised of.”
I raised a brow. “In the hedge?”
“Yes.” Her brows knit together in worry. “Normally, I’d take this right to Lord Bylur, but everyone knows he’s not available during the day any more. I think you’re the next logical choice.”
I popped the last bit of pastry into my mouth and set the little plate on the bench. “Do I need anything?”
“No, just—” She wrung her fingers. I felt bad for her obvious anxiety, so I stood up. “Just come look at it,” she finished.
I followed her into the hedge, around two corners, and toward a dead end. At the end of the path, the evergreen hedge sparkled with some pink magic. She pointed at it. “This isn’t supposed to be here.”
I raised a brow. “What is it?”
She gestured me closer, and then slipped behind me. “I’m afraid,” she whispered, and then she grabbed my arm with one hand while she slipped her other hand over my shoulder to rest a long knife blade against my throat. “It’s a distraction.”
The cold metal against my skin shot a wave of panic through my body. My arms, legs, and throat stiffened.
“You are terribly gullible,” Eris whispered, “which does actually make me feel a tiny bit guilty about this. No fae would ever have come in here as vulnerably as you did.”
My mouth jumped on that while my brain was still half frozen. “You could listen to that guilt,” I whispered back, not daring to speak at full volume with a knife on my throat. “No reason to do something you’ll regret later.”
She laughed a terrible, rueful chuckle. “Oh, there are many reasons. My regret will not last long, and this seems to be the best—”
“Raaaaat!” My cockatoo dived at Eris’s head. Instead of dropping me or swatting at him, she tightened her hold and pressed the knife into my skin. Warm drops of blood trickled down my neck.
“Call him off!” she hissed in my ear. “Send him away quietly, or I’ll kill you this instant.”
“Would you, though?” I asked. “He’ll draw more attention, and it will be harder for you to get away—”
