Page 19 of The Endless Dance

I groan but relent, slumping onto the nearest couch. Typical that Draekoh would murder one of my only friends in this place if I were to, God forbid, make my own damn coffee.

I watch the chittering brownies as they stumble about, cleaning this and removing dust sheets from that, all the while listening to the coffee machine being brought to life and smelling its delicious aroma.

Faarshayal waddles over at some point during the hissing of the coffee machine and sets a plate of sweet biscuits and tarts in front of me. I grab a slice at random, not really hungry but aching for something to do. I barely register the sweet, buttery delight as it melts on my tongue.

When Frieda sets the mug down in front of me, I snatch it up and lift it to my nose. I close my eyes and inhale. Gods, I was so damn lucky Faezgard had coffee.

* * *

I must have fallen asleep, even after demolishing the very generous cappuccino Frieda had made for me, because one minute I’m groggily watching the brownies and my handmaids work, and the next I am waking up to silence and an empty room.

I sit up, and the blanket someone had settled over me falls from my shoulders. I blink blearily, wondering what the time was and how long I had been out. My urgent bladder told me it had been many hours.

I get to my feet and tiptoe to the door I hadn’t ventured through yet. It opens soundlessly, and I peek my head through, feeling as if I were doing something wrong, before my body follows through.

The room is fucking ridiculous. It is far more spacious than it needs to be. I mean, all you really need space for in a bedroom is a bed and a wardrobe. This room had more.

The bed, at least a king, though it could very well be larger, was going to swallow me whole when I inevitably used it. It had dozens of pillows, and the doona was the softest freaking thing I had ever seen.

The wardrobe must be through one of the three other doors I could see, because there certainly wasn’t one in here.

There were two desks, which I thought odd until I realised the mirrored one was likely the makeup station, and the other was for more practical uses.

A wide glass door set against the far wall looked to lead onto a private balcony, but I would have to admire that later. My bladder was only going to hold on for so much longer.

I dash to the closest door. The door stood apart from the others on the opposite side of the room, but it was otherwise nondescript.

Locked.

I frown. Why would someone leave a door locked in a room that is supposed to be mine?

Later, I tell myself furiously. I turn and dash to the other side of the room. Thankfully, the first door I open leads to a bathroom. I don’t even roll my eyes at the extravagance of the bath big enough for multiple people to enjoy, nor the long vanity already stocked with vials of perfume and personal hygiene products.

Thankfully, the loo is the same as on Earth. I suppose even the fae didn’t need anything deluxe to shit in.

Afterwards, as I was washing my hands, I eye the well-stocked vanity. Half of this shit I would never use. I would have to go through it all with my handmaids and remove what I didn’t need later. I did, however, spy an assortment of scrunchies in a glass bowl. I grab one at random and tie my hair into a messy bun.

Walking back out into the bedroom, I intend to search behind the next door or perhaps the balcony, but instead find myself jumping like a startled panda when a voice cuts through the silence.

“How do you like your rooms?”

“Motherfucker!” I screech, one hand holding the door frame to steady myself while the other presses against my chest, as if I could slow my suddenly pounding heart. And then my eyes land on him. “Get off my bed, you creep!”

The High Lord lounges with his hands behind his head, propped up on a pillow as he watches me with a lazy smirk.

“Please, we have already shared a bed, have we not, Little Bird?”

“Not by choice!” I seethe. “What are you doing in my room?”

Instead of waiting for a reply, I turn and open the door next to the bathroom, as I had intended on doing anyway. Fuck Draekoh. He wanted my attention? I would not give it to him.

“Just checking on how you are settling in.”

I ignore him, flicking on the light switch and finding myself in my “wardrobe”. This thing was an entire room on its own! Already stocked with gowns hanging from every hook in a multitude of colours, though I quickly realise not a single garment is dark in shade. They really take the whole Light and Dark Court shit seriously. I walk to a set of drawers and pull them open. I slam it closed after barely a peek. Lingerie.

I open the next one, but when I find the same result, I close it and head to the next set of drawers. This one has real clothes in it, thank fuck. Shorts, leggings, loose-fitting pants, singlets, shirts, shawls, and even bathers.

I close this one and move on to the wall of shoes. Gods, Rihana and Waverly would ovulate on the spot if they were suddenly in possession of this many shoes. Heels, flats, simple sandals, and even a couple of sneakers. Perfect. I could do with a run.