Page 18 of King of Storms and Feathers

I nodded, trying to ignore my frantic heartbeat, and the sweet, heady flavor of wine on his breath.

“If that is all, My King, we must get back to work,” said the Sayeeda, dismissing him from her domain as if he was the servant. “As usual, I’ll bring your infusion to your chamber at midnight.”

The king stepped away from me, and at last, I could breathe again.

Any respect I’d had for the Sayeeda dissolved as I contemplated the fact that she had nightly midnight meetings with the king.

Gods knew what horrible things he made her do. Like me, she was nothing but a slave who lived according to the whims of her owner, and I wondered how such a magnificent, strong woman had fallen into his clutches.

The king nodded, the circlet of golden feathers glinting on his brow. Then he and Raiden stalked along the length of the kitchen toward the exit, like full-bellied, self-satisfied predators.

Little did they know that not everyone present held them in the same high regard as they held themselves.

In a daze, I watched the black cloak trail behind Arrow’s calves, remembering how it had felt against the bruised skin of my breasts and thighs. The weight of it had been claustrophobic, yet oddly comforting.

What that said about me, I hated to think. Likely, I was a glutton for punishment. A masochist—attracted to the man who had enslaved me. To learn this about myself was a sickening disappointment, to say the least.

“Green,” the Sayeeda shouted. “Are we keeping you awake?”

“Sorry.” I covered a yawn with my palm, wondering how she would punish me for ogling her lover instead of tending to my duties.

On the other side of the kitchen, Grendal coughed to hide her laughter.

I angled a pot of stew on its side and scooped the leftovers into a large container. The contents would become the servants’ dinner, which we ate in our rooms after our work was done. My belly rumbled loudly. I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch.

Out of nowhere, golden fingers seized my wrist, and the Sayeeda snatched the spoon from my hand and placed it on the bench. Then she gripped my cheeks and tugged my face to meet hers, staring into my eyes from only an inch away.

My pulse raced. Was she trying to hypnotize me? Or kill me with her obscure gold reaver magic? Dust knew what kind of power she possessed, but according to rumors, she could disappear at will, which sounded quite useful to me. A skill I wished I could employ at this very moment.

I flicked my gaze to the bench, searching for something I could use as a weapon. I wriggled my hand toward a ladle. Not ideal, but better than nothing.

“Your eyes,” she said, jolting my attention back to her glittering lips. “They aren’t pure green. You have sparks of gold in there, too.”

Wonderful news, I thought to myself; the bench digging into my hip as the Sayeeda’s hands fell away from my face.

“Tomorrow, Green, I think you should serve dinner in the Grand Hall.”

I swallowed a protest. She definitely wanted to get me killed.

“What do you say to that?” she asked.

“I… I don’t know how to serve the court.”

Nor did I want to learn. It was safer here, Underfloor with others like me, a place where servants traded secrets and knowledge and went unnoticed by the mysterious fae above us.

“You’ll learn fast enough,” she replied. “Now hurry and fill the dinner trays for the workers. Grendal, go with her.”

“To think, we were visited by the Storm King himself,” said my roommate as we pushed a trolley along the servants’ hall. “Weren’t we truly gold blessed?”

I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not. “Hardly,” I grumbled as we began dishing stew and bread rolls into partitioned trays on the floor in front of each black doorway.

At the Sayeeda’s instructions, the guards left the rooms of the more docile servants unlocked, so when we weren’t working, we were free to exercise along the length of the hall and visit the auron kanara in their cages. The entry to the kitchen was always guarded, and any overlong gatherings between servants were broken up pretty fast.

One day soon, I hoped my obedience would be rewarded and I could join the small parties of servants who were allowed supervised outdoor exercise, then I would commit to memory the lay of the city and any landmarks or exits I was lucky enough to see.

Knowledge of my past was mostly gone, but any new information I learned seemed to stay in my head, neatly organized and easily accessible. I may have been struck dumb by the sight of Arrow in the kitchen tonight, but I wasn’t entirely foolish.

After we’d emptied the trolley, we hurried toward the kitchen to wash out the containers, eager to return to our room and eat our dinner.

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