Page 47 of The Wolf Queen’s Curse

Everyone turns to Kenric, who only stands there, listening and saying nothing until Julius prods with “Is this what you remember?”

“I haven’t been here since I was a boy.”

I think he’s going to stop there, but after a moment of silence, he continues.

“Perhaps, because I was a boy on holiday with my father, it was like…” Kenric shrugs. “Going anywhere on holiday. You don’t expect it to be the same as home.”

Another pause, and then he adds, “This feels very different than I remember, but it might be because I’m here with an envoy and not as a visiting child.”

“Is your cousin happy here?” I ask.

“We haven’t spoken in years. Our fathers were close, and I like my cousin well enough, but there was no need to stay in touch.”

Bishop clears his throat. “Every Pack operates their own way, and every Alpha guides that. The Albion Pack didn’t expect wolves to work daily, like common laborers, and we would never have kept the house for the inner circle only, but since we’re looking for an alliance—rather than a Pack to join—these differences are none of our business.”

“I don’t like the fact Hamish isn’t even greeting us until dinner,” Julius says.

“Nor do I. It tells me that he is being very clear on our relative positions. He has been polite and respectful—sending all three sons—but to him, I am still a supplicant.”

“About the sons,” I say. “When I heard he hadn’t chosen an heir, we pictured a King Lear situation, all the children vying for position, but I don’t get that impression. Did you?”

“Dennis made his comment about taking power,” Julius says. “But it didn’t seem a snide jab at the other brothers. Excellent point, Cordelia. They are not in obvious competition, and yet they are also clearly unhappy with the situation.”

“Especially if they aren’t allowed to have sons,” I say. “I noticed how Edwin worded it. That Hamish decided they can’t. Edwin doesn’t like that.”

“He does not, and I don’t blame him. Whether one wants children or not, no one wants to be forbidden to have them. Edwin must be at least forty, and his window is quickly closing if he hopes to be a young father enjoying rambunctious sons.”

“It’s fucking cruel,” Rufus says.

Julius claps his hands. “All right. So don’t try to play the sons against each other. They’re presenting a united front.”

“Against their father,” I say. “Discreetly in Edwin’s case, less so in Angus’s, and not at all in Dennis’s. They’re restless and dissatisfied with a situation that they don’t see ending soon. My father wanted grandsons to secure his legacy. That was our value to him. Hamish’s three sons are in a similar position. They’re stuck waiting in the wings until Hamish picks one to succeed him.”

“He’s playing games,” Julius says, “and his sons are sick of it.”

“Useful,” Bishop murmurs. “Let me think this through. The next step will be touring the grounds. I suggest we split up for that. Cordelia will go with me, Julius will go with Rufus. Kenric? You seem happier on your own. See what you can find out.”

“Do we split the territory?” Julius asks. “For the tours?”

“No, that might seem odd. As if we are more interested in snooping than touring. Go wherever they wish to take us. Feel free to ask about other places of interest, but if they balk, only note it.”

“Because that’s where they’re keeping the bodies?” Julius lifts a hand. “I jest. If they kept the bodies in the keep, we’d smell them.”

Bishop rolls his eyes. “I don’t suspect them of anything nefarious. I simply think this is a very different Pack, and all that matters is how we can use that. Either to our advantage or to avoid making a faux pas.” He waves to the food. “Eat, and then we ring for the pages.”

Bishop is right, of course. The Caledonian Pack is only “creepy” because it’s so far removed from what the Albions are accustomed to. The castle might seem empty, but on our tour, we meet the controller, who is hard at work in an office, and then we meet five wolves taking the place of domestic staff. Three are in the kitchen, preparing meals, and two are cleaning.

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a man wielding a dustcloth, and the fact that it seems so odd gives me pause. I’ve seen women doing traditionally male tasks, and I do notice that, but only in passing. My reaction to seeing men as housemaids makes me realize just how strictly some jobs are “women’s work” and, as such, they’re actually seen as demeaning, in a way one would never consider for women doing men’s work.

I personally don’t see a problem with men dusting. It’s certainly far better than the current practice of the Albion Pack, which Bishop plans to abolish. The Pack hired supernatural women—mostly former brothel workers—who performed the household tasks and, if they chose, slept with the wolves. Under my father, the women had become indentured servants, unable to leave and also forbidden to use their powers.

So when Edwin sneered about the Albion Pack and their “whores,” he wasn’t wrong. What they have here is better except …

Well, except for the fact that the wolves are embarrassed to be found doing women’s work. They duck out of the rooms as we enter. They’re so quick to dodge Bishop’s attention that they never even seem to notice me. One kitchen worker pauses, but only to study Bishop, his head tilting this way and that, as if trying to figure out how a wolf of his own age could be an Alpha.

Once we head outside, Bishop asks our guide about the staffing situation. He explains that he wants to institute reforms with the Albions, and this model seems interesting. Do the wolves volunteer for the positions? While Bishop’s tone is perfectly even, I can pick up enough to know he’s sure “volunteer” isn’t the answer. And he’s right.

“Ha!” says our guide. “I can’t imagine any man would volunteer for women’s work.”