Page 2 of Until the Stars Fall

“So?” the fae pushed. “What’s got you distracted today, Sunshine?”

My brow tightened as I concentrated on working the dough. “Just thinking about Mother,” I said. It wasn’t a complete lie at least. Mrs. Bishop could taste lies in the air as easily as she could taste the food she prepared.

She hummed but thankfully said nothing more.

The door to the kitchen flew open, pulling our attention to Marin, one of the only other humans still employed by the Durand family. Her bright red hair fell over both shoulders in two tidy plaits, and a bright smile lit up her freckled face, her brown eyes dancing with excitement.

“You should see the ballroom!” she gushed, running into the kitchen and leaning against the worktable in the center. “And the terrace! His Majesty has really gone all out this time.”

Mrs. Bishop snapped her chin up and jabbed a finger in the air at Marin and then at me. “Don’t even think about it. Either of you. You know the rules.”

Marin rolled her eyes and dismissed the old cook with a wave of her hand. “Oh, Mrs. B. You worry too much. I’m not insisting we crash the actual party, but nothing in the king’s command says we can’t be out and about before the guests arrive. How else would we be able to prepare everything?”

“Still. It bears repeating. You know the reason for his rules. You know the—”

“Yes, yes,” Marin said around a sigh. She wiggled her fingers in the air. “We know the danger.”

Mrs. Bishop shrugged and resumed her chopping. “Just as long as you know.”

Marin scooted around the table and sidled up to me, giving my ribs a good elbowing. “So, want to come look?”

I didn’t stop my kneading and didn’t look at the woman. Though we weren’t friends exactly, I liked her well enough. She wasn’t as catty as most of the fae staff, but I didn’t have time to go gallivanting around the palace with her. I shook my head before tossing my chin toward the balls of dough stacked in a pile on the table.

“I can’t. I have all of those left to prepare still.”

Marin’s shoulders slumped, and she sighed again. “What good is having a mostly fae staff if they can’t use some magic to make the work go faster?”

“Tell me about it,” Mrs. Bishop said with a quiet laugh. “If only all fae were gifted with such talents.”

The image of Brennan’s scowling face popped into my mind—a memory of one of the many times he had lamented to me about how unfair it was that his older brother, Connor, had a gift when he didn’t. What that gift was, I didn’t know. The humans in the palace weren’t allowed to know, and if the fae staff knew, they didn’t tell us—which was surprising, given their propensity for gossip.

The memory shifted into Brennan flashing one of his cocky grins.

With a growl, I slammed my hands into the dough.

Why did Marin have to talk about magic?

And why did every stars-damned topic have to remind me of him?

“Whoa there, Lieke,” Marin said teasingly. “What did that bit of dough ever do to you?”

My face warmed from embarrassment, and I swiped the back of my hand across my brow in a shit attempt at hiding it.

“I just want to get my work done so I can get back to my room for the night,” I said, hoping the fae across from me couldn’t detect the lie on my tongue.

Marin lifted her hands in surrender. “Fine. I’m going.”

As she spun on her heel and made for the door, I caught Mrs. Bishop staring at me again. I didn’t need magic to recognize the knowing gleam in her eye. When the door closed, I dropped the dough onto the table and met her stare.

“What?” I asked, though I could already guess her response.

She pointed her knife at me, but her brow crinkled with more of a worried expression than anger. “Don’t do anything stupid, Lieke. This is a bigger party than usual, with a much longer guest list.”

I selected my words carefully, sure to keep them all within the realm of truth. “I know. After I finish up here, I’m going straight back to my room.”

After scrutinizing me for a moment longer, she finally returned to her work, saying, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Sunshine. The king has his rules for a reason.”

“So you’ve reminded us, Mrs. Bishop,” I said. “I’ll be careful.”

---