Page 13 of Midwinter Wiles & Valerian Dreams
Talvie
The tavern is hot and loud. The smell of stew mingling with ale and damp wool is unfamiliarly provincial, yet also oddly comforting. No one would look for a princess here.
Wilder Fae laugh together at wooden tables while children dart about, chasing one another like flitting sparrows. A couple are even dancing to the kantele music being played in one corner, as if they’re creating their own revel in this tight, cozy space. At first, the noise and casual airs between people overwhelmed me. I’m still not over the feeling.
A flickering fire crackles in the hearth at the centre of the room, its glow reflecting off rough stone walls and low wood beams. It feels like people have lived here for centuries; everything seems unpolished and well-loved. It’s nothing like the pristine halls of the palace, and honestly, I’m not sure if I hate it, or if it’s…almost pleasant?
No, no, it’s far too cramped. And smelly.
The innkeeper, Daria, sweeps past me with her shiny silver braids pinned back and her apron stained from a long day. She scolds a server in a low voice and tosses me a side-eye on her way by. It’s enough to make me hurry over to clear the table a family of five just vacated. I pile the dirty dishes into my bin without daring to look around again. Much as I want to groan out in disgust when my finger touches leftover food (becauseew, ew, gross, I’m touching it!), I can’t afford for Daria to decide I’m not up to this job.
Literally…I can’t afford it.
Money isn’t something I’ve ever had to worry about before. Like this place, the people, the narrow bed with scratchy blankets I slept in last night, the apron I wear, and every other terrible thing in my life right now, this is all new.
When I rented the room, I asked Daria for her cheapest rate, for any way to stay longer than the two nights my meagre coin would cover. Her soft, understanding gaze reminded me of days long past when Taynia had used that mothering look on me. Whatever hurt must have flashed in my eyes, Daria took pity on me. “I could use some extra help around here,” she said. “People keep moving away from the endless winter, leaving me short.”
Which is how I came to be cleaning tables after Wilder Fae to cover my room and board.
Me…a Point Fae princess…cleaning up after Wilder Fae.
Four days ago, I’d have laughed in the face of anyone who proposed something so preposterous. I sigh, pushing through the door to the kitchen with my full bin.
“Over there,” the skinny fae washing dishes directs me when I try to set it down. I can’t help flinching at the correction. I’m unused to anyone aside from the queen telling me I’ve done something wrong.
“On the bright side, at least there’s no Taynia here making me miserable,” I grumble under my breath.
And I still have my head, which is a big plus.
And Daria hired you with no experience, Lumi reminds me. Her voice glides through my mind, while the comforting weight around my neck is a reminder that I’m not alone.
I’d like to tell the little moon not to remind me how out of place I am, but my sheltered life of luxury is painfully apparent in everything Idon’tknow how to do. The kitchen is chaotic, and I’m all thumbs. I exploded a bag of flour earlier when I didn’t know how to open it properly, and now the cook eyes me warily as I scurry by.
I need to look like I know what I’m doing and not let Daria see my incompetence. My tiny room here may be sparse, but it’s the first time I’ve felt safe or warm since Beron wrenched me from my bed.
Not to be caught lollygagging, I grab an empty tankard from a table, flinching as I bump someone passing by. For the hundredth time, I tell myself that no one has tried to kill me yet. In fact, the Wilder Fae have been…polite. Dare I even sayfriendly?
The young man offers a quick, “Oops, sorry,” even though I’m fairly certainIbumped intohim. I’m not used to crowded spaces where people don’t clear a path for me.
Last night, a woman offered me a scarf when she saw me shivering while picking up the firewood I’d dropped outside. Then the stableboy came over to show me the wood carrier I should have been using…the one that sat right beside the woodpile. Oops. And this morning, a man thanked me for my awkward attempts at sweeping snow from the front walk even though I swept some of it onto his legs. Any grounds crew acting so carelessly at the palace would be dismissed on the spot.
I’m used to hard looks and down-turned faces on Wilder Fae, assuming that was how they are with everyone. But here, in their own spaces, they’re nothing like that.
Valkie seems confused. They’re not what you expected, are they? Maybe you never truly looked before.
I grip the tankard tighter. “I’m trying my best here,” I mutter back.
Daria raises an eyebrow. “You all right, girl?”
“Yes!” I reply a little too brightly, lifting the tankard like a prize. “I’m fine. Just…taking this.”
Daria snorts and moves on, and I exhale in relief. Blending in is going great.
My cheeks heat as I hurry back to the counter, careful not to drop anything. When I return to clear the next table, the energy in the tavern has shifted. All the children sit stiffly with their parents now, and while chatter carries on, it’s softer. Less open.
Then a hand snakes out, grabbing my wrist.
Startled, I turn to find a Point Fae male, one of two sitting at the reserved table along the wall. Last night, when I asked why no one sat there even though the tavern was packed and still more people waited to be seated, the bartender had only given me a look that said, “Are you stupid?” With a huff, Daria informed me, “Every establishment is required to keep a reserved place for Point Fae customers, not that many deign to grace us with their presence. Where did you say you’re from again, Val?”
