‘Hilarious,’ she wryly said.
He scoffed a laugh. ‘Any orders?’
‘Increase surveillance on the entire island for at least a few days.’ She lowered her voice as she spoke; even if the castle remained dead quiet, there was no way to know if anyone was listening. The heavy velvet drapes on the walls seemed to smother the sound of her words. ‘I’d prefer not to run into any more surprise mobs. Also, get me a list of the commanders who refused to come to your aid yesterday. I’m planning to have a word with them.’
Her Lord Protector nodded – his cold, efficient nod.
‘The rest can wait.’ Until she had this visit behind her. More importantly, until she’d gotten an answer to questions she could never ask him directly – answers for which she needed assistance that only Naxi’s powers could provide. ‘Gadyon, could you tell me a little more about this place you’ve found to house the humans?’
‘Ah. Yes.’ The tall male to her left cleared his throat, limping steps breaking their rhythm for a moment. ‘We— Well, the short story is one of my people realised that only about half a dozen fae were still livingin the ivy wing. It’s never been too popular. Too remote. So we, um, told those last few inhabitants they could move into the villas by the north coast that were left vacant after the battle.’
Nicanor’s swift grin suggested he might have been involved with that decision, but all he said was, ‘Surprisingly, they were happy enough to oblige.’
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Gadyon hurriedly added. ‘We wanted to proceed swiftly, and, well, with the uproar over exactly this sort of situation …’
‘No, that’s excellent.’ If she had minded, that would be her own fault for having disappeared so suddenly – and either way, it seemed a solution unlikely to enrage anyone but those waiting to be enraged. ‘And there’s an adjacent garden too, yes?’
She already knew there was a garden. She knew the wing in question as well as she knew any other part of the castle. What she needed to know was—
‘There is,’ Nicanor said in Gadyon’s stead, long strides never faltering. ‘Although it’s heavily guarded at the moment, of course.’
Good.
She could work with that.
As if to illustrate the point, two fae guards stood waiting around the next corner, posted before the stairwell that led to the wing’s main entrance. They veered up abruptly as they noticed her, saluting with a speed that suggested she hadn’t lostallappearance of authority over the course of the previous day.
‘Your Majesty, Lord Protector …’ The short but burly fae female speaking seemed unsure for a moment how to address Gadyon’s ink-stained presence, then chose the path of least resistance by not addressing the head of the archives at all. ‘Happy to report the night has been peaceful. No sign of any unusual activity, Your Majesty.’
‘Excellent.’ She nodded at Nicanor and Gadyon. ‘Please wait for me here. There are a few other things I’d like to discuss once I’m done.’
Once again, they did not ask questions.
She ascended the broad stairs by herself, one hand hovering close to the mulberry purple of her dress, the other to the dagger hidden in thesheath beneath her split skirt. No one lunged at her from behind the pillars with their serpentine carvings. No arrows whizzed in through the high, narrow windows. She reached the next floor unharmed, unnoticed, and no less tense for the fact.
A broad, frescoed corridor stretched out before her. Whimsical forest scenery covered the plaster walls, and the dozens of wooden doors blending into that background as if they’d grown from the floorboards themselves. There was no living creature to be seen – but from the far side of the wing came the murmur of voices, the clatter of plates and cutlery.
Breakfast time for those used to waking early.
Thysandra suppressed the urge to retreat and come back at a more suitable moment. The wing’s new inhabitants wouldn’t welcome her with open arms no matter when she showed up.
Better to just get it over with.
She sucked in a deep breath and made herself walk on.
Here and there, doors stood half-open, offering glimpses into the disarrayed living rooms beyond – bags, suitcases, piles of meagre belongings. No one seemed to have brought many of their own possessions with them, and it took her a moment to realise it was because none of themhadmuch to take along in the first place.
Do better.
When did inattentiveness cross into the realm of stupidity?
At the end of the corridor was a sizeable common area, windows on three sides offering a view over the gardens and the quiet beach behind – and it was there that she found them, the humans of Rustvale, sitting at the long tables and on the luxurious couches with bags under their eyes and breakfast in their laps.
For one moment, she watched them just … be. A mother comforting the toddler in her lap. Two girls giggling by the window. A man inspecting a wobbling table with skilled, weathered hands. A single moment in which she might as well not have existed, and then—
‘Fae!’
They jolted like hunted deer.