Page 48 of A Queen and Her Knight

Rennet was enchanted even before she raised her chin to a haughty angle and demanded to know if she could have some of his champagne.

He had the words, after all, but they were locked in his throat. His eyes began to sting and he sat down before he was even consciously aware of the bench behind him.

“Well?” She came forward, gracefully tripping through the damp grass to stand in front of Rennet. Her arms were covered in glittery bangles. Her princess dress was wet at the hem. Rennet wanted to hold it for her like a queen’s train.

“Champagne is for adults,” Rennet spoke at last. “Adult humans, that is, ma chérie. For a little being such as yourself, I doubt it would do anything. But you won’t like it yet. It’s not sweet.”

The small firebird princess gave him a suspicious look, so he crossed his heart in an effort to convince her.

“Fairies aren’t supposed to lie.”

“I’m not a fairy.” Rennet glanced around, but spied no nanny or parent chasing after her. She had snuck out, the naughty creature. Her parents–probably the dragon and his husband–were going to be upset. But raising a firebird could not be easy.

“Impsarefairies.” Her tone was very smug.

Rennet’s throat nearly locked once again. “Someone else once told me that and I didn’t believe them, either.”

She stamped her foot. “I’m not lying.”

“Of course you aren’t, myshka.” Rennet carefully put down the bottle. “Although, firebirdscanlie.”

Her eyes went wide. “You know what I am? Papa says nobody ever guesses.”

Rennet nodded. “I know. I knew a firebird once. He was….” The child did not need to see Rennet cry. “He was very beautiful and talented. If you like, I’ll ask your parents if I can send you some of his music. You might not like it now. But maybe when you get older, like the champagne.”

He could see her desire for presents warring with her fear of her parents discovering that she’d escaped and that she’d talked to a stranger. Then his tail flicked out, capturing her attention and distracting her.

“Can you fly?” she wondered, glancing from his tail to his wings.

He nodded. “Can you?”

“Papa says not yet.” She huffed. “Daddy says yes.”

Rennet put a hand to his stomach. “Kazimir,” he had to say the name. “His name was Kazimir. The other firebird. The only other one I’ve seen, except for you.”

“Kaz-i-mir,” she repeated, as if this were a school lesson. Then she frowned. “Don’t cry, Mr. Imp. You don’t have to be a fairy if you don’t want to. I say so.”

“Yes, princesse philomele.” Rennet took a deep breath. “Do you speak French, by any chance?” She huffed again before crossing her arms. He took that as a no. He wasn’t as bothered as he might have been. “What languages do you know, besides this one?”

“Grandmother’s.” Because this answer made sense to her, she was done with it. “What are you calling me?”

Rennet smiled. “Princess songbird. Little mouse. It’s a habit I’d forgotten about it, with him gone. He used to do that.”

“Kaz-i-mir?” She frowned, apparently not at all certain she liked this Kazimir for taking attention away from her, which was the most Kazimir-like thing she could have done. “My dress is pretty.”

She wasn’t asking.

“Yes, it is.” Rennet agreed seriously. “They wouldn’t let you wear it to the party?”

“Daddy said I’d be bored.” That foot came down hard on the grass once again.

“I have to agree with him.” Rennet smiled apologetically in the face of her displeasure. “I was bored too.”

“Oh.” This appeased her somewhat. “Because you’re a being?” She paused, as if thinking. “People stare.”

“They do.” Rennet gave her a crooked grin. “Because they wish they had glowing skin, and could fly, and they can’t.”

“Not Papa.” She considered this point earnestly. “Papa doesn’t glow. But they stare at him too.”

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