Page 16 of Make Me Bee-lieve

I’ve never even stayed in a hotel room this nice before, and now here I am … in my new beehive, being treated like an honored guest.

“Er…” I look up at a tendril of gooey honey as it drizzles over one of the bookshelves. “That can’t be good for the books.”

Ser Beatrix chuckles. “I’ll have one of our drones sent in right away to patch that up,” she says before stepping toward yet another hexagonal doorway to the right of the bed. “Your private washrooms. Yes, there is water to run for a bath should you need it. And it’s safe to drink, as well.”

They have plumbing. How? I’d ask, but I’m too tired, and judging from the way Ser Beatrix’s shoulders slump forward ever-so-slightly, she is, too. I skip the questions for now and nod as I follow her with my eyes, too afraid to move around the room in case I disturb something.

“And your bed, with extra linens underneath in the storage cabinet,” she says, dropping down to her knees and opening the drawer for me to see. “Lots of pillows, should you need them. Is there anything else I can do for you, Caretaker?”

I shake my head. “Uh, no. Thank you, Ser Beatrix. I appreciate your hospitality. But … I was wondering when I might be able to go back … home? Just an ETA on that would be great.”

Ser Beatrix blinks at me. Then she stands up and puts all four hands on her hips. “I’m sorry, Caretaker. I have absolutely no idea. But I believe the ball is in three turns of the sun.”

Three days. I’m expected to stay here for three days, the size of a pea, when my Shrinkatron is still out for anyone to mess with. And Bonnet. Did anyone ever find her? I know my landlord knows her well, but with the community garden up there, anyone could have found her and taken her. The thought of someone stealing my cat makes me clench my jaw.

“Caretaker? You look unwell. Perhaps it’d be best for you to rest? I can send in a handmaiden to draw you a bath, if you’d like?” Ser Beatrix says.

I shake my head. “No, no, it’s fine. I can do it myself. But I’d like to speak with Her Highness again as soon as possible, please.”

Ser Beatrix gives me a sympathetic smile. “I will see what I can do, but I cannot make any promises, I’m afraid. She is a very busy bee.”

I chuckle. Busy bee.

Ser Beatrix arches a bushy brow at me. “Is something funny?”

“No,” I say, and drag a palm down my face. God, I really am exhausted. A nap sounds nice. But how can I sleep here when no one back home knows where I even am? I can’t just disappear off the face of the earth for three whole days. I have a job. Oh, shit. If I don’t call in, will they fire me? I can’t get fired. Everything will fall apart if I lose my job.

Ser Beatrix squeezes my shoulder. I hadn’t even realized she moved right in front of me. “I know this is probably a lot for you to deal with right now. But you won’t be able to face any of it if you are drained.”

She’s right. I should conserve my strength so I can figure things out later. Ser Beatrix bids me a goodnight and leaves me alone in the room, and I unbutton my shirt and toss it onto the bed. These are the nicest linens I’ve ever seen. The comforter is made of plush velvet the color of wine, which contrasts sharply with the gilded walls.

The only lights in the room are candle flames ensconced in a rainbow of colored glass. Pretty. I unbuckle my pants next and toss those onto the bed, then strip out of my boxer briefs. I’m about to head into the washroom to draw a bath when a knock suddenly comes at the door. Panic takes over, and I bolt for the clothing on the bed, but it’s too late.

“Caretaker? Caretaker, are you awake? It’s Polina,” the feminine voice on the other side of the door announces.

Crap. Polina? As in … the princess? The princess is on the other side of the door. I scramble for my clothes.

“Uh—yes! Just a minute!” I call back.

But then the door slides open as though by magic, and the princess steps inside just as I have one leg in my trousers. The rest of me, in all my flaccid glory, is displayed for her to see.

“Oh, god,” I mutter. My cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

Polina stands a few feet in front of the doorway, staring at me. Her big, black eyes move from my face and draw doooooown to my crotch. Her gaze narrows. And then she realizes what’s happening, and she blinks once, twice, three times before she lets out a soft gasp.

“Oh! I am so sorry!” Two of her four hands fly to her mouth. The other two ball into tight fists at her sides. Then she whirls around, and I catch sight of her wings curled flat against her back as well as her enormous butt … er, abdomen, I suppose? It’s hard to tell because it’s underneath all that fabric.

I quickly pull my pants on the rest of the way, but skip the shirt. Good enough.

“Sorry, you can turn around now,” I say.

Polina doesn’t turn around immediately, though. Instead, she hovers by the doorway, like she’s fighting with herself over whether she wants to stay or go.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” I say.

Polina slowly looks over her shoulder, and the twin antennae on her head flick back and forth. “No, this was entirely my fault. I apologize for intruding when you were trying to take a bath. I should have known better. Aunt Elza sends her regrets, by the way, but she cannot spare a moment to give you that tour this evening,” she murmurs. She turns around the rest of the way, and her eyes immediately go straight to my chest. “You are still half undressed.”

I nod. “Yeah, but it’s fine. Most men walk around like this on the beach. It’s not a big deal if you see me like this. Unless I’m committing a serious offense, of course. Then I’ll put the shirt on.”

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