Page 27 of The Fox Heir

“Annwyn isn’t like Llwyn.” Her face grows dark. “A woman can gain power and position through more than mere blood. I worked hard to get here, and I didn’t need nobility or shadow power to do it.”

I nod. “It must be nice.”

She raises an eyebrow at me.

I clarify. “To be respected because of something you did, I mean. Rather than the family you were born into.”

After a moment, she sniffs and gives me a curt nod. “Anyway, I may not be able to see the fae, but now that I know where they hide, you won’t catch me down here ever again.” She shivers like the invisible fae give her the creeps.

A small laugh escapes me. “Not even for the wine?”

She gives me a reluctant sideways grin. “I don’t much like the idea of something watching me while I sin. Happy drinking, Fox.” She turns to leave.

I nod, a bit bewildered that she isn’t criticizing me. “Right.” I follow her out with the jug in hand, past the rows of wine and shelves of potatoes and cheese.

At the top of the cellar steps, she turns to look at me. “I’ll ask someone to bring a bath up for you.”

I glance down at my blood-soaked clothes, then nod. “Thank you.”

She pauses, peering down at me. “I have to say, you surprised me. You almost look like you’re from Annwyn, covered in sweat and blood like this.”

It’s a compliment, I know, but I’m not sure if I like it.

Chapter 9

Well after my bath has grown cold, I remain submerged in the tub the staff brought up for me. It feels almost obscenely luxurious, soaking in a bathtub in a crumbling castle while people freeze and starve outside. But, given the brownish-pink color of the water I’m sitting in, I know I needed it. Badly.

Now that my body has rested, everything hurts. And I’m sleepy. But I blame the half-empty jug of wine on the floor next to me for some of that. Tonight, I might just be tired enough to skip supper. Luckily, the castle staff also brought up a selection of breads and cheeses when they delivered the tub and buckets of hot water.

I’m sure I have Nalina to thank for that too. It may be a strange joke, given the wine she saw me steal, but I’m not complaining. I’ll take wine and cheese over an empty belly any day.

There’s a knock at the door.

I groan. Not again.

“Go away,” I say halfheartedly before slipping beneath the surface of the water. Even with water in my ears, I can hear the knocks grow more urgent. I sit up, splashing water over the edges of the tub.

“What do you want?” I yell.

Nothing. Then, more knocking. Louder this time.

Swearing under my breath, I stand. Every muscle in my body protests the movement. The air in the room is frigid, despite the new fire in the fireplace. I shiver and wrap a thick dressing gown around me.

The knocking continues ceaselessly.

“I’m coming!” I yell as I press the water out of my long auburn hair with a linen cloth.

Tiptoeing across the freezing stone floor, I make my way to the door. Water drips from my hair, and I try not to slip. That’s the last thing I need today, an injury from being drunk and sloppy. Nalina would love that.

I open the door. Predictably, the hallway is empty.

I slam the door closed again and stifle an irritated scream. Limping, I walk back across the stone floor, but I don’t get far before there’s another knock. I growl and run back to the door, throwing it open.

“You know,” I call into the empty hallway. “I’ve had enough drama for one day. Just do me a favor and come out already, or just leave me the hell alone.”

A scurrying sound catches my attention. I peer down the gloomy hallway lit by flickering lantern light. There’s no one there, just shadows and drafts from the howling storm outside. I sigh and start to close the door again, but pause. At my feet, there’s a small jar.

I bend to pick it up, my sore muscles aching. The lid takes some effort to unscrew. Inside is a dense, waxy balm. I sniff it cautiously. It smells of beeswax, sharp peppermint, and something floral underneath. Lavender, maybe.