She slowed just enough to glance over her shoulder but didn’t meet his eyes. The outer curve of her gently pointed ears flushed pink.
“I require practical help, not questions,” she replied, then turned and quickened her pace. “Right now, my job is to prepare sleeping chambers for the lord and his men. This will take some time. He has exacting tastes.”
They climbed several sets of stairs and emerged in a hallway Rafe hadn’t yet seen. The walls were white and the floors a light oak. Judging by the view from the window of the stairway landing, they were several floors up. She entered the first doorway on the right, which appeared to be lined with cupboard doors. She opened and closed several before she found the one she wanted. It was stocked floor to ceiling with bed linens.
“Here, take these.” She held out a pile of sheets with one arm and rummaged in the cupboard for more.
As he reached to accept the stack, she grabbed his hand and pushed back his sleeve. There was a red welt where the silver bracelet touched his skin.
“What’s this?” she asked, setting the linens aside so she could take a better look.
He swallowed back a sliver of resentment that she didn’t already know the answer. “Silver irritates a shifter’s skin, especially something this tight.”
“Oh.” A flush crept up her ears. “That’s easily fixed.”
She cupped the right-hand bracelet between her palms. It immediately heated, at first a gentle warmth and then to an almost painful temperature. Rafe drew in his breath to protest, but then the metal shifted away from his flesh. A cool tingling ran all the way to his elbow. When she drew back her hands, the silver band hung ever-so-slightly loose and the skin beneath was whole.
“You should be able to slide your shirtsleeve beneath the bracelet,” she said, then went to work on his other wrist.
“Thank you.” Rafe couldn’t quite feel grateful—he was still bound by magic—but the absence of itching pain was a profound relief.
She stepped back, finished with his other bracelet. “I’m extremely sorry that happened.”
For an instant, Lila seemed plunged into embarrassed confusion. She closed her eyes, sucking in a breath before opening them again with a look of shaky resolve that didn’t convince him one bit. This was not where she wanted to be.
She picked up the sheets again, thrusting them into his arms. “No time to waste.”
“Don’t your servants take care of this?” he asked.
Her face lost all expression. “It is customary for the eldest unmarried daughter of the house to make the beds of the honored guests. I decorate the hall and plan the meal. That is the tradition of our noble houses. To do less is considered an insult.”
“You can’t magic the rooms ready?”
“No. That lacks the required personal touch.”
Rafe considered that. Werewolves were good at hospitality, but no female would tolerate someone around the cubs without sniffing them first. If nothing else, Galeeta seemed just as protective of her family. Something wasn’t adding up.
“What hold does this lord have on your kin?”
At that, Lila dropped a pillowcase and quickly bent to scoop it from the floor. “Nothing.”
“A two-year-old cub could lie better than that.”
“Fae don’t lie,” she retorted.
“Fae detect untruths. Not the same thing.”
With a frown, she placed the pillowcase on top of his load. “Lord Farras is an important ally with the ear of the king and a claim to the throne if the king dies without issue. It would not be wise to offend him.”
Rafe had figured that much out already. “And the soldiers who arrived here at the same time as me?”
The crease between her brows deepened. “Lord Teegar is a captain of the Royal Guard and a political rival of Lord Farras. Before you ask, I do not know his side of the story.”
Fear swirled beneath the studied neutrality of her tone. No wonder she was doing whatever domestic task was asked of her.
“So, that’s why you agreed to play hostess?” He followed her out of the room and down a long hallway to the guest bedrooms.
“It was not my preference, but yes,” she said quietly, raising a hand to indicate which room to enter.