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“No. I’m too self-aware now.” A little line forms beneath the pout of his lower lip. “Anyway, Cael’s incredibly proper in Faerie. I was absolutely not in his service during my courtesan days. I lost the point.” He pinches his brow. “Right. Once upon a time, I was a courtesan in Cael’s court, not for him. Zy is still a knight, but he was one then, too. We’d cross paths now and again while I was wandering around and he was getting assignments. One time when he wasn’t looking so great, I helped him out.”
Trying not to jump to another conclusion, I ask, “What do you mean?”
“Vampires need blood. It’s kind of like a medicine for them, and they have to keep up with it, especially in the summer or on bad days. I offered mine.” Ollie chews his cheek as we get remarkably close to the rock face without any indication of turning. “He asked something about whether or not I liked being a courtesan. I told him I wasn’t interested in men. He said, ‘What?’ I said, ‘Sorry, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.’” Ollie grimaces and tucks his fingers into his hair. “It was the most awkward moment I’d experienced in so long. We both ended up laughing. But then—” He whips his attention toward me as he runs through the rock face, dragging me along with him.
Without missing a beat, we step into a crack that is suddenly twenty times my size. I shudder, glance down the long, cool passage leading up to an ornate door, then back at Ollie.
Cool. So that can happen. No problems here.
Back to story time…
“Then that—” He swears. “—asked me if I could help him with something else. Next thing I know, I’m sitting pretty in the middle of the woods as a chihuahua in order to lure half a dozen spriggins that had robbed Cael out of hiding.”
I snort, then clap my hand to my mouth. “That’s terrible,” I say through my fingers.
“He used me as bait. Without a scrap of remorse.”
“Nobody got hurt?”
He huffs, stopping just in front of the door at the end of the passage. Lifting his hand, he places it flat on the cool wood. “The spriggins got hurt.”
I watch him.
He sighs and shoves open the door into a vacant, glittering, immaculate ballroom. “No. I didn’t get hurt. At any rate, afterward Zy dragged me in front of Cael to suggest I’d make a good knight—terrible assessment, by the way. I was panicked, thinking Cael was royalty like my brothers are royalty, but as it turned out, he wasn’t, and isn’t, and the three of us have been friends ever since.”
I grasp the fraying strands of the story and attempt to put all the information together. “So…it’s not exactly normal for faeries to just approach their royalty, but either Cael is a different kind of leader, or you’ve been friends for so long it doesn’t matter?”
He leads me across the shining tile, toward a door beyond an empty throne. “Long is subjective, but, yes, basically. We’re friends, or I’m much too insolent and he’s far too benevolent. It all really depends on who you ask. Subjective things are subjective. Emotions birth frivolous truths.”
“Very wise.”
“Do stop saying mean things to me.”
Popping up on my toes, I kiss his cheek in the same moment he pushes open the door…into Wonderland.
My heart skips beats as the quiet, lavish scene hits me. At first glance, the hall is an oversize garden with roses and daisies as large as cars filling the space. At second glance, moss climbs the walls, great woven blades of grass creating entire tapestries upon it. Glass windows in the ceiling rain sunlight down upon everything. It’s inside, but it’s also breathing. More than that, it’s gentle. Like the world after snow. A hall encapsulated in quiet. And maybe that’s why people lie curled up in the centers of one or two open flowers, eyes closed, pollen speckling their noses and cheeks.
“What are they doing?” I whisper.
“Napping.”
I press my lips together and plaster myself to Ollie’s side. “Why?”
“Because they’re tired. Are you tired? I prefer the roses. You crawl inside, and the petals mute sound.” His eyes narrow. “Some of these jokers snore.”
“You can just nap in the palace hallways in Faerie?”
“Within Cael’s domain, you definitely can.” Ollie turns me down the plush lane. “And thus begins the culture shock.”
I straighten as we pass a man with a long tail ending in a wee tuft of fur. He’s hugging an entire helmet. He’s wearing armor. I point and stammer, “He…that…a guard?”
“He’s working.”
My mind might be having a slight conniption. “Wh— No, he’s sl—”
“Shh. He’s working. What good is a knight if he’s tired? All these people know what’s expected of them if they’ve taken permanent or semi-permanent palace positions. They want to do well. So they are taking care of what they need in order to achieve that. The second his skills are recquired, he will be wide awake, refreshed, and ready.” Ollie curls his arm behind my back, protectively guiding me through the hall. “People who aren’t thriving don’t produce adequate results. Part of Cael’s principles include fitting the systems to the people, not the people to the systems. If you’re tired, sleep. If you’re hungry, eat. If you’re overwhelmed, curl up inside a rose for a bit. If you’re underwhelmed, there are other places to deal with that.”
“How? How come things don’t disintegrate into chaos?”
