Page 41 of Crown of Briars
“I’m so terribly sorry!” Sybelle said. “Please, let me help you clean this up.”
In Agnarrish, a servant said hastily, “No, no, don’t trouble yourself, my lady. Please return to your rooms. We will send someone to see to your needs.”
I suppressed a groan. What the hell was she doing in the kitchens, of all places?
“I just need…” Sybelle broke off with a noise of frustration. Curious, I edged closer to the next room, careful not to reveal my presence. From the corridor that led to the dining hall, I remained in the shadows as I peered around the corner.
Sybelle was in the medicine room, surrounded by broken glass, as servants scrambled around her trying to clean up her mess. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were wide with panic. Her wavy chestnut hair hung loose and frayed around her, and she wore a simple blue dress that was stained with various potion ingredients.
My scowl deepened. What was she doing poking around our medicine room?
Then, she said something that made me freeze.
“Gerra modi. Do you have any? I needgerra modi.”
The servants around her stilled as well, recognition dawning on their faces. One of them nodded and started shuffling through the mess of jars.
She was asking for birch root, which was a medicinal herb for the fae beasts who had cracked talons or split claws. It helped numb the area so the healer could mend the creature. It was the only thing strong enough to affect the toughened flesh of unseelie beasts.
Why did this weak, fragile human need such a thing?
And how did she know the word for it in my language?
Suspicion crept through me, and I silently thanked the castle for leading me here. Perhaps there were more secrets to my human bride than I originally thought.
I remained hidden in the corridor as Sybelle clumsily helped the servants clean up. When a kitchen maid appeared with a jar of birch root, Sybelle accepted it and murmured, “Garsha.”
Thank you.
Now that I was focused on it, I realized her accent and pronunciation were flawless. She uttered the word like a native.
The staff began ushering her from the room, eager to have her removed from the kitchens. Sybelle stumbled over more apologies and thanks as she hurried from the room. I followed her down the corridor, keeping a safe distance as she made her way up the spiral staircase that led to the ground level of the castle.
I smirked. She didn’t realize there was a door waiting for her at the top of the stairs. Any number of unseelie fae would know all they needed to do was open a door—any door. She should have merely strode down the hall of the kitchens and opened the same door I’d come through.
But of course she didn’t know any better.
And if the castle was still in a mischievous mood, it might take advantage of her ignorance.
When Sybelle reached the top of the stairs, she uttered a soft, “Shit.”
I had to refrain from chuckling.
The door creaked open, and blinding sunlight illuminated the darkened stairwell. I shrank against the walls, afraid the brilliant light would alert her to the beast lurking behind her. She lifted a hand, shielding her eyes as she slammed the door shut. With another whispered curse, she shook her hands two times, then tried again.
More sunlight. The smell of oak trees and fresh grass filled my nose.
The training yard. The castle was trying to send her to the training yard.
I wanted to laugh.
Sybelle groaned and shut the door. “Could you take me to my rooms? Please?”
She opened the door again, but nothing changed.
“What about the library? You tried so hard to get me there the other night.”
She opened it again, and it was still the training yard.
