My spoon fell with an unintentional clatter into the bowl as I blurted, “Who is that female?”
“You’ll need to be more specific.” Kreed finished drying a saucepan and hung it upon one of the hooks dotting the ceiling above me.
I half rolled my eyes. “You know who I mean.”
He grinned and tossed his worn towel over his shoulder. “You mean the female visiting with our king?”
I glared, lifting the glass of water to my lips and slurping.
The twins chuckled.
Kreed dismissed them, and they both cursed with relief and left via the door that would take them outside. That I’d seen them leave the same way before told me their private quarters were on the grounds somewhere and not within the manor itself.
“You seem…” The cook didn’t even try to hide his amusement as he narrowed his eyes on my face and then my barely touched breakfast. “Bothered.”
“I’m not.”
He huffed and carried a pot to the sink, draining the water from it.
“I’m not,” I said again, and ate another mouthful for good measure. “I wish whoever she is the best of luck in dealing with his insufferable attitude and overbearing presence.”
“Overbearing?” Kreed questioned, sounding on the cusp of laughter.
I decided to shut my mouth, knowing I’d already said and implied far too much.
The king was under my skin. He’d made sure of that before I discovered his true intentions. Now, I could only hope it wouldn’t hurt too much to peel it back and tear him out.
I didn’t want to be attracted to him. I certainly didn’t want to marry him.
And I didn’t want the mere idea of him enjoying another’s company to bother me as much as it did.
Gaining Florian’s trust in the hope of finding enough freedom to escape was impossible when he didn’t trust anyone. I was stuck, and I had to wonder if I loathed him more for that than for tricking me in the first place.
For trapping me in a larger prison.
I’d been so desperate for freedom that I’d stupidly signed over my life to Florian, believing he was fate sent to give me just that and more. All I could do now was rot within this cage of lust and loathing until an opportunity to get to Baneberry presented itself.
Then I would have the protection of the kingdom in which I’d been born.
Until Florian came for us with his armies, of course.
And I knew that such a betrayal would never be forgiven—regardless of him being wholly aware of my longing for answers and a place to truly belong.
Aggravated beyond measure, I shoved my breakfast away and ignored the urge to thump my head against the smooth stone countertop until my hopeless and desolate musings were knocked from my skull.
Kreed shot me a curious look over his shoulder, but I could handle no more talk of the king. “How long have you and Olin been dancing around one another?”
The cook’s eyes flared slightly. The only tell he gave that perhaps I’d struck a nerve.
Giving his attention back to the soapy water, he sighed as if suddenly exhausted. “We haven’t been involved for some years.”
I didn’t want to pry. However, I did want to distract myself and maybe learn why this steward was such a damned grouch. I pulled my breakfast close when my stomach growled for more sustenance. “Is that why he’s always so miserable?”
Kreed chuckled. It quickly ended with a rough exhale. “He wasn’t aware I had sons nor that I’d spent a few decades with a female before I met him. Can’t say I blame him for how he feels.” He shook suds from a large wooden spoon. “It’s quite the secret.”
“And why did you keep it?” I gently pressed.
Kreed didn’t respond.
I resumed eating, believing he wouldn’t.
Then, quietly, as though he did not wish for anyone to overhear, he explained, “I didn’t know I had sons, either. By the time I did, and by the time I realized what we were doing was perhaps serious”—he shrugged—“well…”
It had been too late.
The door screeched open atop the stairwell, steps descending.
Her scent preceded her—sunlight and citrus with a faint hint of salt.
Her hair was the color of wet sand, falling straight and long over an ample chest and a torso with enviable curves. Dark-green eyes, reminiscent of seaweed, sparked with her slow-spreading smile as she stopped before me. “You must be the spawn of the enemy.”
I coughed, almost splattering her beautiful ensemble with oats.
She smoothed her hands over the loose and gauzy tunic, the crimson material falling over tight-fitted slacks, and looked at Kreed.
Kreed was bowing.
She smiled wider and waved an elegant hand. “Oh, stop and come here.”
The cook straightened and met the female in the center of the room to embrace her. “Glorious as always.”
She tore away, gripping his large upper arms. “Where are the younglings?”
“Likely chasing some of the female staff into the woods until they need to return to prepare lunch.”
My shock faded, but the awe remained as they talked about Kreed’s sons and Mercury, Aura’s wife. This was no ordinary female. She was a queen.
Queen Aura of Oleander, the southern kingdom of Folkyn.
A queen stood mere feet from me, and I hadn’t even realized—hadn’t shown any respect upon her arrival. To make matters worse, Snow snarled when the queen stepped too close to her breakfast bowl.
I hushed her, about to apologize when Aura’s gaze lit, and she crouched before my beastly cub to offer her hand. “Darling,” she said to Kreed. “Why is there a wolf babe in your kitchen?”
“Ask the spawn of the enemy.”
I scowled at Kreed, but he merely began decluttering the island countertop with a smirk.
Snow sniffed Aura’s hand and decided she was no threat, but refused to eat until Aura rose and stepped back.
The queen observed the cub, who’d already nearly doubled in size since I’d found her wounded in the woods, then looked at me as she placed a hand at her hip. “I can see why Florian’s mood is more foul than usual.”
Kreed chuckled. “Tullia has indeed kept him on his toes.”
I would’ve glared at the cook again, but the queen tapped a short nail against her plump and rouge-painted lips. “They say you were a changeling.” Interest had brightened her eyes to an emerald green. “Raised in the grotesque middle.”
I nodded. “I did not know who you were until—”
My attempt at apologizing for not giving the respect owed to a queen was dismissed with a flick of her fingers. “And you’ve no idea what you’ve been dragged into.”
“I’m starting to learn,” I muttered, unable to hide my displeasure at being reminded of my own failings, and unable to keep from adding bitterly, “I was deceived.”
Kreed coughed.
Aura looked at him, an eye narrowed, then back to me. “Indeed. Your anger and self-loathing are delicious.”
Discomfort bit at my words. “Is it that obvious?”
“Darling, you wear it as a perfume.” After a moment of inspecting me thoughtfully, her words softened. “You are so dreadfully young. The art of careful trickery and deception has yet to touch your soul enough to teach you better.”