Instead of asking what in the world he meant, Kate turned away and reached for an indistinguishable coffee beverage on the counter that seemed to have no owner. She sipped it, then coughed it back out when she realized it was cold.
Mor hovered for a moment, saying nothing. Finally, he gave up his interrogation and joined the others at the fireplace. They spoke in hushed tones.
Lily slid over a fresh, steaming mug toward Kate to replace the cold one. But she held the drink in place when Kate tried to accept it. “What’s he talking about?” she asked.
Kate’s gaze flickered up to her friend. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m not sure what I feel right now.”
Lily folded her arms. Her tattoos seemed a little tighter than normal.
“Un-real, Kate,” she whispered. “You’ve got eyes for that pushy, entitled, fairy-tale Prince.”
The pulse in Kate’s chest tumbled off beat, and she dropped her eyes to the beverage before her. After a moment of cowering beneath Lily’s expression, Kate took a long, uncomfortable sip. It felt like ages before Lily finally went back to sorting receipts.
30
Prince Cressica and A Healthy Breakfast
The morning was filled with a collection of scents: human bird eggs, herbal teas, and beast milk. Cress tapped a finger on the tabletop as he watched Thelma bring over two plates of it. His brows were tipped in, his forehead was creased, and for the faeborn life of him, he couldn’t seem to shake his scowl. But Thelma didn’t ask about it.
He’d had a miserable sleep in Kate Kole’s bed upstairs.
The old woman said a short prayer, then scooped half her eggs into her mouth in one bite.
“Eat, Cress!” She pointed at his eggs with her spoon. “It’ll get cold. Then you’ll wish you ate fast like me.”
She glugged down a tall glass of beast milk, too. When she was finished, she set it on the table with a light thud. Through his stern face, Cress cracked an ever-so-small smile at the line of white milk left on her upper lip.
“Are you worried about me?” Thelma asked through it. “Is that why you’re here for breakfast again?”
“I suppose that’s part of the reason,” Cress admitted, stealing a glance out the window at the crisp, early morning where light snow drifted from the heavens. He wasn’t hungry, but he scooped a heap of bird eggs into his mouth. “Mmm,” he said dully, so that Thelma wouldn’t demand to know if he liked them.
“There’s orange juice in the fridge—”
“I’m fine,” Cress assured, setting down his utensil. He scrubbed his hair and rubbed his face, then leaned with his elbows on the table like any bad-mannered human, folding his hands with his mouth pressed against them. “What do you do if you like someone, Grandma Lewis?” he asked.
Thelma snorted a laugh. “Any girl would be an idiot not to like back someone as handsome as you.” She shovelled in another mouthful of eggs, and Cress nodded, dropping his hands onto the table.
“Thank you. Queensbane, I’m glad there’s at least one human here who sees it.” He slouched back against his chair and folded his arms. “Iamhandsome,” he mumbled to himself.
Thelma kept eating, and when she was finished, she dabbed her mouth with a cloth, erasing the milk stain.
“But what do you do if you like someone you can’t have?” Cress asked, leaning forward again. He twiddled his thumbs and waited.
Thelma burped.
“Well, who in the world do you like? The Queen of England?” she asked, and Cress’s brows furrowed again. He couldn’t tell if she was making a jest. Truly, he didn’t even know the human realm had queenes.
“No,” he said. “It’s someone else.” He scratched his chin as he thought of a better way to put it. “What if you liking someone may cause them pain and trouble? What do you do then?” he rephrased.
Thelma folded her ever-shaking hands and looked at Cress more seriously now. “You leave them alone, son. If you being with them will hurt them, then you let them be in their happy life—assuming itishappy—and you leave so you’re not temped to do something stupid and take that happy life away from them.”
Cress tapped his finger on the table again. He slung an arm over the back of his chair. “I don’t like that answer.”
Thelma shrugged. “Then go ask someone else.” She went to stand but halted halfway up. Her lashes fluttered and her hand flew against her chest.
Cress’s eyes narrowed as he heard the slight change in her rhythms. The scent of fear filled the air, and a wave of panic followed. The Prince sprang from his seat and caught Thelma Lewis before she could tumble to the floor of her kitchen.
“Queensbane,” he said to her. “Are you ill?”