Her hands stilled on the next swathe of dough for half a breath before she resumed rolling. “The squirrel.”
“Dried fruit. Not the salted kind, he won’t touch it. Some of the good bread, torn into small pieces. Maybe a few of those honey cakes if you have them.”
Helen’s expression stayed carefully blank, but her eyes did something I didn’t like. A flicker of what might be amusement or understanding or both might gleam there.
“The squirrel has preferences,” she said.
“Apparently.”
“And you’ve taken the time to learn them.”
I grunted. “Just make the tray.”
“Right away, Alpha.”
I left before she could say anything else, the knowing look in her eyes following me out the door.
The breakfast tray arrived ten minutes after I’d placed a territory map on the small dining table. I took it from the staff and carefully laid it in the center. Sounds rang out from the bedroom, telling me Victoria would be out soon.
“Thank you,” I told Fitz, who’d brought the tray.
His gaze shot around the sitting area before he ducked his head in a short bow and practically ran from the room.
I laid the territory map on the small table, then checked the tray to make sure everything was just right. Tea at the right temperature. Her favorite jam within easy reach. The flowers I’d picked still listed to one side in the urn, but she’d added water, so they’d perked up.
Soft footsteps crossed the wooden floor. She emerged wearing a simple dress in deep blue, her hair pulled back at her nape. When she saw me at the table, a confused look crossed her face before she smoothed it.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Morning.”
“Breakfast again?”
“We have to eat, don’t we?” I didn’t like how gruff my words came out, but what did a male say at a time like this?
“Thank you.” She sat across from me. Our knees almost touched under the table. Neither of us shifted away.
I poured her tea, the floral blend she preferred. I didn’t examine how I knew these things about her. I just did.
Acorn scurried into the room a moment later, his tail high, his whiskers twitching. He spotted the small plate I’d set at the edge of the table and leaped up to investigate. He examined each item with the careful attention of a royal taster. Sniffed the driedfruit. Turned over a piece of bread. Sampled a honey cake and chittered, which I hope meant it was acceptable.
I pretended this didn’t please me.
Victoria hid a smile behind her teacup.
We ate. I found myself talking through a border concern half to myself, half to her. A natural thing now, when it hadn’t been at the start.
“The eastern ridge has been getting pressure from Crikon’s pack.” I marked a section of the map with my finger. “Nothing serious yet. Just posturing. But I’ll need to run the boundary this week, remind them where the markers sit.”
Victoria spread jam on her bread. “How often do you have to patrol?”
“Every few days for the critical sections. Monthly for the rest.”
“That seems excessive.”
“It’s necessary.” I marked another location, this one near the northern territories. “Especially with the shifting sickness affecting so many pack members. Rival packs can smell weakness.”
Her eyes snagged on something on the map. “What are these symbols?”
