“I’ll go check our supplies now.” Julian hopped up, leaving a half-eaten plate behind, passing me with a softer smile as he rushed down the tunnel.
Pulling out the empty chair beside him, Peregrin offered me the last cinnamon roll as I sat back down. “You look like you need it.”
I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I wasn’t about to say no.
“So,” Gwen said, cracking her knuckles. “Where should we begin?”
My throat tightened.
I hadn’t expected any of them to help.
Soren hesitated, turning to me. “This is the part where we do the brain picking. If you’d rather not be involved, I’d understand.”
I blinked at him. “The brain... what?”
“We’ll pick through ideas, good and bad, and see what fits the situation.”
A snort slipped out. “Do you mean brainstorming?”
His brows drew together. “That makes absolutely no sense. Why would you storm the brain? No. We’re picking the ideas out. It’s brain picking. I’m sure of it.”
Biting my lip, I giggled. I couldn’t help it. When he raised a brow at me, I laughed harder. It felt like talking to an exchange student, which made sense, considering the fae world basically was an entirely different country.
“No, I’m sorry, you’re right. That does make more sense.” I waved a hand in surrender as I wiped tears from my eyes, trying not to lose it again at their mystified expressions. “Brain picking it is. How do we start? I’d like to stay, if that’s okay.”
“Of course.” Soren dipped his head in a nod. “It’s usually a bit rough to start out. Have faith that we’ll think of something with a little picking.”
I pressed my lips together to hold back another giggle at this serious, handsome dude trying to use human slang for my sake and totally failing.
Lore stood up. I thought she was going to say something, but she just cleared her plate, bringing it to the kitchen to set it in the sink. Everyone sat quietly, thinking. As Lore came back, though, she got animated, waving her hands. “I have an idea. Since Brynn can lie, we could glamour her to pose as Soren’s sister—”
“Caius knows Soren’s sister. Quite well,” Gwen said, shooting the idea down. I thought of the dark-haired beauty in the painting upstairs.
“Oh.”
“But it’s a good start,” Peregrin said, heading toward the kitchen, where he started washing dishes.
Gwen tapped her lip thoughtfully. “The prince will be suspicious of anyone coming to collect Brynn’s family.”
“That he will,” Soren agreed in a grim tone.
“So, we’ll need to mislead him somehow, or distract him...” Gwen stared into space thoughtfully.
I spoke up. “We could use the fact that he knows I’m from this Grimhollow family-clan-thing, right?”
They turned to me.
“You’re fromwhat?” Lore said into the stunned silence.
Gwen frowned. “Who is Grimhollow? That name sounds familiar. Wasn’t it in the logbook recently?”
“The legends of the Grimhollow clan never reached the redcaps?” Lore teased her with a grin. “They’re one of the most dangerous families in the Shadow Court.”
Gwen snorted, unimpressed, but Lore turned to study my face. “I can see it, actually.”
“They could rival you and your family, Gwen,” Peregrin chimed in, then coughed and turned back to the dishes when she leveled him with a glare.
“Yes, the prince is well aware of the Grimhollow clan,” Soren answered my earlier question, bringing us back to the point. He gave me an encouraging nod.
