Page 90 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

I jolt. “I wasn’t—”

“You’re looking. Constantly,” the siren says with a strange, knowing side-glance toward me.

I chew on my lower lip, avoiding Nidaw’s beautiful, pale eyes, hoping she can’t detect the heat under my skin with her siren-senses.

“It’s the war, isn’t it?” I ask.

Nidaw nods once. “You look very tired, girl. Go to sleep. And I think we can do without your help for the next two evenings.”

I’m venturing back down the long, empty corridor toward my room, when the breathtakingly beautiful, blonde eleven woman I’ve seen next to Caryan comes sauntering along. Her long dress is made of two shafts of fabric connected in the middle, exposing most of her belly and her long thighs, making her even more beautiful. But then, I guess she could wear rags and still look breathtaking.

I step aside into an alcove to let her pass, but she pauses.

“Good to meet you, slave. My fireplace needs some cleaning.”

I nod, earning a snarl when I look up into her stunning eyes. No fangs, though, just those elongated canines typical for fae.

She hisses, “Watch it, girl. I might not be as tolerant as some others around here. Come now.”

I follow her into her room; a large, dark hall decorated mainly with daybeds alternating with tiny tables. Jewelry is strewn around everywhere, as are all sorts of cosmetics and dresses and empty wineglasses. It smells of exotic perfumes and oils. Heavy, velvet curtains are pulled shut, candles providing the only light, their wax dripping into the silken carpets.

As soon as we enter, she slumps down onto a massive bed, waving toward an enormous, marble mantelpiece before taking a large sip from the glass of red wine that has magically appeared in her hand.

I kneel in front of the fireplace, looking for fire irons, but find none. I turn to the elf. “There’s no brush, or a shovel.”

“Is there not? Shame. I guess you'll have to use your lovely hands,” she croons, examining her long nails.

I have to bite back a snarl. “Do you have a bucket, or do you expect me to throw it out of the window?”

“You could eat it. Bite the dust—isn’t that what you humans say? Because that’s what you all do at some point. Wither awaybefore you have lived. As if you were born already dead.” She laughs about her own joke, but with a snap of her fingers, a bucket appears next to me. “Oh, and all of it, girl. Be meticulous, will you?”

I crawl deeper into the huge fireplace and start to scoop up charred wood and ash in my hands, throwing it heap by heap into the bucket. But every time I take another heap, it seems that more ash has appeared out of nowhere.

I turn back to look at her.

“Something wrong, human?” she asks innocently, looking insufferably pleased with herself.

“You’re doingthis.”

“Doing what?” She blinks a few times with her long, blue lashes.

“You’re summoning more ash, or however it works,” I grind out, earning a shrill, bell-like laugh.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Go back to work, you lazy creature. You should be grateful, you know. You’ll not be his whore forever. You’re nothing but a plaything. A wretched toy. Something he’ll throw away when he’s bored with it. There are so many women vying for his attention you’ll be glad you can come close enough to kiss the hem of his cloak when he’s done with you.”

With another snap of her fingers, all the ash I’ve collected is scattered all over again, dusting even the floor around the fireplace. I’m covered in soot, my hands already sore from scraping over the rough stone.

I glower at the woman who offers me a feline smile in return.

“Is that what happened toyou?” I ask before I can reconsider.

She sits up so abruptly that a little of the wine sloshes out of her glass and seeps into the silken sheets of her bed. “You know, I haven’t yet decided whether you’re just stupid or adorable for being so bold with an elf. Now clean it up.”

“No.” I get up, dusting my hands off on my dress, hiding how they are shaking at the sheer lunacy of what I’m doing here.

She gets to her feet too, pointing a finger at me, her eyes vicious slits. “You little piece of human filth. I should give you a taste of thewhip. Soon enough you will beg me for household chores so he won’t throw you to the wolves. Clean it.”

“Or what? You’ll punish me? I don’t think he’ll be too pleased about that. And you won’t do it yourself, since it’s likely he’ll drink my blood and see in it what you did. Am I right?”

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