Page 9 of Lily of the Valley

"You can barely walk right now, and I doubt you've ever sliced a vegetable in your life," Scout said, not without amusement. "Sit down, have some tea. Tell me more about these Black Wolves."

She was a crown princess—a queen—and yet this woman consistently made her feel like a child. So what if she couldn't cut vegetables? She doubted Scout could negotiate a revision of trade agreements conducted in six languages!

Keeping that retort to herself, huffing slightly, Lily took the empty spot at the bench and poured a cup of tea from the steaming pot. "What kind of tea is this?"

"Kind? It's just tea. Plain old boring tea," Scout said.

Lily pursed her lips, staring at the cup. "It's a black tea, but it has nutty undertones, almost like pecans."

Scout shrugged. "It's what the general store sells. So the Wolves?"

"There's not much to tell," Lily replied, but recounted what she could, careful to place herself as an observer. "I don't know how they got real wolves all of a sudden, though."

"The Black Wolves include shifters, what some call werewolves," Scout said. "They hail from all the way up north. The shifters, not the mercenaries as a whole. Mostly from the remains of a dissolved pack, once known as Rothenberg, but exiles from other packs as well."

"I've never heard of such a thing as werewolf packs."

"They keep to themselves, and when they leave their homeland, they don't go far. Except the Rothenberg leftovers, little better than rabid dogs in need of putting down." Scout's mouth pulled back in a sneer before she abruptly stood, gathered up the bowls filled with eggs and chopped vegetables, and strode over to the fireplace.

Not hard to tell there was a bit of history there, but Lily said nothing, just drank more tea and waited for breakfast, already exhausted and ready to go back to sleep.

She was nearly asleep in her tea when Scout returned, setting a sizzling pan on a trivet with a soft thump. It smelled like eggs and vegetables, a hint of something spicy, so rare a treat in her court, where everyone seemed to prefer their food mild and frankly boring—including her father, love him though she did.

Lily's breath hitched at the sharp pain that punched her in the chest at thoughts of her father. She shoved them desperately away. "What is that, it smells amazing."

"It's got a lot of names, but my mama always called it an egg bake. You can add just about anything to it, but this is what I like best." She dished it up in wooden bowls Lily would bet she'd made herself.

"Thank you. How do you know so much about the Black Wolves?" Lily dug into the food with relish, stomach grumbling. It was indeed spicy, with peppers, onions, and tomatoes. "This is wonderful."

Scout seemed amused, but only said, "I traveled a lot, once. All over the continent."

"Through this forest? Aren't parts of it dangerous? This part is dangerous. I was always told not to enter it."

Scout laughed as she gave them both more of the egg bake. "Everywhere is dangerous if you don't know what you're doing, but if you're meaning the ghosts and stuff, they rarely bother anyone who isn't a threat to the forest. The only exception would be the portion they call the Broken Forest in the queendom of Ramanda, where—"

"The Huntresses!" Lily said excitedly, clapping her hands together. "The Women of the Red Hoods! Commanded by the Red and White Queens! I've always, always wanted to meet them." Because too many people here were convinced a queen could not measure up to a king, and yet somewhere far to the west was a queendom. There were technically seven other queens across the continent, none of them nearby, sadly, but they didn't style themselves queendoms. They hadn't been founded and always ruled by queens, protected by Huntresses.

"I see they require no explanation," Scout said with another chuckle. "You've never heard of the wolf packs of Icenberg, but you know the Huntresses?"

"One of those is far more interesting than the other," Lily muttered defensively. "Do you know what it's like to be surrounded by cranky old men all day, who see you—and the crown princess and all the other women—as little girls not fit to lead? Of course I'd know all about a queendom where women are taken seriously, where women are the authority."

Scout grunted and stood as she finished eating. "Know a bit about that, and then they turn around and tell me I'm too masculine to ever be a 'real' woman."

"What in the world defines a real woman?" Lily asked, then rolled her eyes. "According to at least half the men at court who think I don't overhear their nasty little gossiping, it's breasts." She flushed slightly at speaking so baldly. "So clearly I'm not a real woman."

Making a noise like a strangled laugh, Scout gathered up the dirty dishes. "Go back to bed, fake woman. You look ready to fall over, and I'm fairly certain you've done enough of that."

"More than enough. I can help clean up…"

"You can barely walk, and I doubt you've ever drawn water from a well or washed a dish in your life. Go to sleep. I'll put you to work soon enough, milady, never fear."

Lily was getting really tired of being treated like a particularly useless child, but there wasn't much she could really say to defend herself when both those things were true.

Climbing slowly to her feet, she shuffled back to the bed and got settled, comforted by that lingering cinnamon scent. She would never look at cinnamon the same way after this. "Thank you for breakfast For everything. I know I'm a pain you can't wait to get rid of."

"Go to sleep, milady," Scout said gruffly before heading out the door bearing a pile of dirty dishes.

Mind spinning with questions she'd never be rude enough to ask, Lily fell asleep.

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