To Squirt’s surprise, all five of her self-proclaimed “trainees” were eager students. Except for the púca, named Samuan, they all failed to sneak well enough to not scare off the feybeasts. Instead, they took over the maintenance of traps, using the trapped feybeasts to practice component collection. She estimated they lost her over half of all the possible components, but that was better than Havort ever did back home.

  By the second day, she was able to retreat and leave the management of traps to them. Instead, she went deeper into the forest away from the castle, cataloging the creatures and their numbers as she hunted, and after the incident with the fire fata, she also started marking off areas of different plants she could use for either medicinal or offensive purposes, gathering some along the way to preserve in her precious storage shed or grow in the greenhouse.

  Tobias became her self-proclaimed “right-hand wolf” and managed the majority of the trainee’s work for her. In the evening, she returned to the clearing and went over what she’d gathered, how she gathered it, and what it was used for, making a few healing poultices and salves as she did. They weren’t nearly as effective as anything anyone with even a touch of healing magic could whip up, but they were basic things for coagulation and antiseptics that would, at least, stabilize a fey if necessary. At their insistence, she also led them in some exercises as they learned to lighten their steps.

  Then it was time to report back. The trainees remained behind to continue making the rounds on the traps as Tobias followed Squirt back to the castle, including through the secret tunnel to Quint instead of trying to go through the town. Squirt expected to do her report, collect more supplies, and be on her way, only for Lady Kenna to greet her brightly as soon as she entered the quartermaster’s domain.

  Quint, meanwhile, gave Tobias a dark glare.

  He held his hands up placatingly and whispered, “Nice dragon.”

  She snorted.

  Squirt hesitated before ducking under the counter to stand by Lady Kenna, bowing to her respectfully. “Lady Kenna.”

  She giggled, the sound light and airy and feminine. “I already told you to do away with those formalities, didn’t I?”

  Squirt slowly lifted her head to eye the lady warily. Technically, she had by addressing her superior first but decided not to mention it. “Is there something you need from me, Lady Kenna?”

  She hummed, nodding and crossing her arms. “Mm. Yes. That cloak fits you perfectly.”

  Squirt’s scowl deepened.

  She shrugged and smiled. “His lordship asked to see you today.”

  Not good. It was never good when a titled fey asked for her by name.

  She smiled brightly. “And he had the chef make poundcake with icing.”

  Squirt froze. “… poundcake?”

  “And rose berry tea.”

  Scowling, she muttered, “As you wish.”

  “Excellent.” Turning on her heel, she elegantly strode off as she practically glided across the floor. “Come along, Tobias.”

  He sighed. “Yeah, yeah.”

  To her immense irritation, his lordship’s office was less than a five-minute walk away. Damnit all.

  Much like Tobias, Lady Kenna simply let herself into his space with a bright smile, not even bothering to knock. “Hey, I brought her.”

  It seemed she, much like both the lord and Tobias, was refusing to use the name Squirt.

  Her expression flattened.

  The lord, as before, was writing at his desk. Gods. A title holder. Working. Again.

  Unlike before, there were only three other people in the room—his attendant, Telos, and a bookish, shy-looking young fey with large, round glasses slipping down his nose. He might have been a shifter or púca by the look of him as he was too short to be a fata, and while his features were delicate and his frame lithe and small, he was too tall to be a pixie. His hair was the soft pink of spring, his eyes too downcast to note their color.

  Regardless, the door shut, and the lord gestured to the couches, the deep resonance of his voice commanding the same attention and respect that she’d envied before. “Please. Have a seat. I’ll be done in a moment.”

  Stiff and wary of those in the room, she eyed her options. There was the couch with Telos, the couch with the unnamed fey, and two chairs opposite the lord by his desk. None of them were the kinds of seating offered to a fey like herself, and she found herself balking at the idea of sullying them with her presence.

  She also couldn’t directly disobey his command, bargain or no.

  Tobias and Lady Kenna were not helping matters by standing behind her, waiting for her to make a choice.

  Fists clenched at her side, she bowed politely to each of those in the room, then kneeled at the end of the carpet in front of the low table placed between the couches.

  The lord glanced up with a frown. She met his gaze, daring him to disparage her.

  Tobias chuckled as he easily took a seat next to her, sitting cross legged on the ground. “Going for cozy today, huh, Braveheart?”

  She scowled at him lowering himself to be at her side instead of the fancy couch where he belonged.

  Stretching with a groan, the lady sat on her other side, briefly stupefying Squirt and tucking her neatly between the two shifters. “It certainly feels less formal this way. I know why we got the couches, but it’s nice to remember how we used to do things.”

  The lord returned to his paperwork with a grunt.

  Lady Kenna waved over the attendant, who served them tea and the poundcake that had been promised. Squirt eyed it, only for the attendant to place a packaged loaf in front of her, murmuring, “For you to take home.”

  Glaring at the package like it had offended her personally, much to the amusement of the rest in the room, she eventually shifted it carefully into her pouch, never once softening the glare at it despite her tender, gentle touch.

  The lord finished whatever work he’d been doing just as she took her first sip of tea. Rather than addressing her, he stood and walked around his desk. Heaving a sigh, he took a seat opposite her on the ground, making Telos’s brows raise and the meek fey squeak out a startled gasp.

  Squirt frankly agreed with them. That was the right reaction of a reasonable fey to a lord choosing to sit on the same level as a gods damned greenling.

  The lord paid them no mind. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows casually on his knees. “I’d like to inquire about the schematics for your traps, and how viable they might be in other parts of the kingdom.”

  She studied the man for a long time before responding. His dark skin had gone slightly ashen, likely from exhaustion, and there were tired lines around his eyes. Still, nothing dampened the sincerity as he looked at her, not taking offense no matter how rude she was being.

  Her eyes flickered to Telos, who had made her the cabin she now lived in. He seemed relaxed, but there was a tension to the way he held himself. Flickering her eyes over the other, unnamed fey, he was clearly waiting on tenterhooks, his burgundy eyes large and pleading on his freckled face. Pleading. Asking for her to agree, not angry she hadn’t responded yet.

  Gods. There were more of them.

  Dropping her guard, she wrinkled her nose, running her fingers through her hair and dropping her head with a sigh. “… depends on the location and the trap, my lord. Feybeasts are a rather varied group.”

  He nodded solemnly. “What about the traps you used in the dungeon exercise?”

  She lifted her narrowed gaze. “… you want to use my traps on fey, not feybeasts?”

  He sighed. “We are on the verge of war with Skye Kingdom. We are mustering our strength, but we will take any advantage we can get.”

  Fuck.

  Things just got a whole lot bigger.

  She exhaled sharply out her nose. “… yeah, I can give you the schematics. They’re simple things, anyway.”

  His entire expression brightened. “Truly?”

  She snapped, “It’s not like I’m giving you my damn name. Honestly. In another few weeks, Tobias could give you schematics as easily as I could, so don’t think this is a favor or anything.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  None of her words even slightly dampened the radiant joy on his face. “Name your price, and I’ll gladly pay it.”

  She rolled her eyes, shifting her focus to Telos. “Would this make us square?”

  He nodded eagerly, just as excited as the lord was, though the lord had a confused furrow to his brow as he glanced between them.

  She crossed her arms, returning her gaze to him and glowering. “With this, I owe you nothing for my house.”

  He blinked, then frowned. “You already owe me nothing for your accommodations—”

  She snapped, “Don’t fucking lie to me. You sent a damn archmagis to build a house for me.”

  Telos’s eyes went wide. “Shit. How’d you know?”

  She gave him a hard stare.

  He winced. “… that obvious, huh?”

  She returned to glowering at the lord, finding herself even more irritated at his amused expression. He shrugged. “Telos had the spare time and magic. He’ll be leaving tomorrow to visit all of the villages to reenchant their defenses.” He paused, considering her. “… originally, we were hoping to send you with him to scout out the rest of our lands, but I worry the problem in this area alone is too much. Instead, I’m hoping you can teach Anvanil here how to craft the traps for feybeasts.”

  The meek fey ducked his head.

  She considered his point. Dropping her gaze to the table, her mind raced ahead, considering the broader implications. The future of that nameless village with Stalf. The future of war.

  Gods damned titled fey never thought of the weakest of them.

  Anger surged, giving her more bravery than usual, a plan forming in her mind. “… the area around the castle is rich in magic, so it has a higher level of feybeasts than some of the surrounding towns and villages. But with the… personnel you’ve sent my way, the population will be more stable so long as they continue to check the traps daily and reset them as necessary. I have more concern about the wider forests, which would be deeper than a party traveling to the villages would go.” She eyed Telos. “Carriages won’t be able to reach the heart of the forests.”

  Telos groaned. “Gods. Are you going to make me traipse around in the underbrush again?”

  She snorted. “No.” Eyeing the lord, she said, “I’ll give you my trap schematics. Those training to hunt feybeasts need practice, and that’s not something I can give them. They’ll be self-sufficient for the next week. Instead, let Tobias handle the next check-in so I can scout the larger territory.”

  A flash of amber in the lord’s eyes was followed by the telltale rough edge of a growl to his voice. “No. It’s too dangerous.”

  She raised a brow. His calm had been broken not by her rudeness, but by the thought of her in danger, giving her just a dash more courage. “You’re the one who said we’re at war. I can catalogue the feybeast populations and problem areas for your knights to sweep through while gathering ingredients for traps. I’m not stupid. I know the Skye Kingdom is on the other side of the mountains. It wouldn’t be the easiest vector for them to attack, but it would be one, and if they’re aware of our previous lord and his consistent failures, it would be one they’d consider.”

  Telos blinked. “I didn’t think you’d be knowledgeable in the strategy of war.”

  Rage surfaced as she answered flatly, “It’s not war strategy, it’s basic common knowledge.” She shook her head, her disgust clear as she said patronizingly, “Believe it or not, it’s the border villages who suffer in times of war, not Capital prisshats like yourself. And amazingly enough, they talk to each other, especially when pressed together for a month during the depths of winter, when the snow drifts are so high many can’t leave their homes.”

  Then she braced herself as he stiffened in anger, his cheeks pink. She choked on the air as his natural dominance rose, glaring at him for all she was worth even when her vision began to darken. For once, she used the precious, tiny bit of magic she had to shield her vital organs, letting him crush the rest of her.

  If war was on the horizon… this wasn’t just about her anymore. They were listening to her, they cared about her safety for some gods damned reason, and she needed them to understand what was at stake. Her life, the lives of everyone who had taken her in when she showed up on Stalf’s doorstep bloodied and beaten, those were the ones in danger. That was what was at stake.

  “Enough!” barked out the lord, the growl of his inner beast making his singular word almost unintelligible it was so rough.

  She fell forward, covering her mouth with her shirt as she coughed up blood. Even the friendliest seeming fey could turn on a dime if she sullied their space, and the habit was so ingrained she didn’t even think on it. Tobias handed her a handkerchief, rubbing her back as he murmured, “Yeesh, Braveheart, why didn’t you say something? I bet he didn’t even realize you couldn’t brea—”

  He froze as she straightened, wiping the last of the blood from her mouth and finishing taking inventory of her body, her eyes low on the table in weary submission. Her point had been made, and she only hoped it’d be enough. Her voice as ragged as her breaths, she croaked out, “I can… take care… of myself.” She shook her head, frustrated that she was fighting tears from the pain. More than likely, with how blessed he was with magic, he hadn’t even realized how much that fucking hurt. “I owe them.” Lifting her gaze to glare back at the lord in challenge, she said, “I’ll give you the schematics so long as you swear to use them to keep these people safe. The weak and small and remote. And then I’ll leave for ten days to gather ingredients, and there’s not a gods damned thing you can do to stop me.”

  The silence that followed was punctuated only by the sounds of her wheezing and coughing, holding a rib that was either bruised or cracked, it was hard to know in that moment.

  Then Telos suddenly burst into motion as he fell to his knees, his eyes wide and panicked. “Shit, sorry, I—it was an accident, here, let me scan you.”

  Off-put by the movement and sincere horror in his eyes, she simply stared at him, wide-eyed, as his magic washed over her in a scan spell. It finished, and the man was so horrified she began to worry he was about to hurl. “Shit, fuck, I—” he murmured a dimensional box spell, reaching into space and pulling out a healing potion. “Here, please—” he said as he uncapped it, thus activating the potion, “—drink this.”

  She stared blankly at the vial. He’d uncapped it. He hadn’t just offered. He’d made it basically impossible for her to refuse without wasting a gods damned healing potion.

  More than any other action, this was proof of their quality as fey.

  Damn it all. They weren’t growing on her. They weren’t.

  Tobias ripped it from Telos with an animalistic growl that made the latter’s heart visibly break. The wolf then tried to feed it to her, and she snapped, “Fuck off,” as she swiped it from him. “This is so stupid,” she muttered before downing the thing. Finished, she gently placed the vial back down despite the visible rage in every line of her body as she snapped, “Happy, now, you fucking fleabag?”

  Tobias wilted and his wolf disappeared back into himself.

  Turning her ire on the lord next, she snapped, “Well? Bargain or no bargain?”

  It was only then that she noticed his eyes were also the amber of his animal, despite the deceptively calm expression on his face. His voice rough with his wolf, he asked lowly, “Why didn’t you bow?”

  She stared at him for a long time before saying quietly, “It was too important not to.” The last of her aches faded as the potion finished working its way through her system, and with a grunt she crossed her arms and said, “Well?”

  He exhaled sharply, his eyes still amber, just a hint of anger in the lines around them. “… you undervalue your skills, Athereon.”

  Squirt gave the man a hard stare. “… did you just…”

  His eyes faded back to his normal hues as he smirked just slightly. “Fits, doesn’t it?”

  Tobias said, “I don’t get it. Is it a reference?”

  She didn’t answer Tobias, too busy trying to figure out what the fuck this guy’s angle was. Athereon was an archaic name for The Goddess of the Hunt’s Bow, a metaphorical representation of her divine will, often seen as a priest, a divinely enchanted bow, or white stag. It guided hunters to prosperous lands, whether that be as a fey wielding a magic bow on a great hunt or a mythical stag showing the way.

  Did he know how much that name would mean to her? One whom owed the Hunt her life? Or was it accidental? Was it a manipulation, meant to gift her a name he could later use to bind her with?

  But…

  His eyes…

  They were soft.

  The smirk was there. Was sincere. Yet the softness of his eyes added a warmth to the expression. A gentle one as soft as his eyes. Teasing her to invite her into the fold, not to exclude her.

  He smirked a touch wider. “You like it?”

  “No,” she answered far too quickly, and from the gleam in his eyes they both knew it. She scowled and turned her head so she could blink her tears away, demanding they not make another damn appearance. It was just a gods damned nickname. Damn him. Why couldn’t he be hateful?

  Scowling, she took a careful sip of tea and muttered, “Well?”

  He huffed again, though the sound was lighter this time. “You have yet to request adequate payment. I cannot start the precedent of a bad bargain between us.”

  Her cheeks reddened in fury as she realized he was willing to walk away without the damn schematics. “Are you serious?”

  He gave her a wolfish grin. “Deadly.”

  She chewed her bottom lip. “In… in exchange…” Shit, what was the scale here? If gifts of the sugary variety are anything to go by, he was loaded. He could quite literally set her up for life. In fact, he’d already promised to, and already was setting her up. She’d gotten brand new gear, a brand-new home better than any home she’d ever had before bar none, was getting a seat at the table, and apparently, a monthly salary that outweighed any previous yearly salary. Yeah, having to train people was kind of annoying, but they were earnest in their studies.

  She… she had everything she had wanted not two months ago. Was there… anything else, really?

  … did… did she dare hope?

  In a ghostly whisper, she said, “Books.”

  He leaned forward. “Books?”

  She hesitated. A genuine flash of fear crossed her face before she repeated in almost a plea. “Books on the subjects taught in the university. Magical theory, transmutation…” she licked her lips before she kept going, “… I don’t have to keep them. Just read them. I can borrow just one at a time, keeping them in my pouch to keep them safe and—”

  He lifted a hand placatingly. Then lean forward on his elbows. “There is a shelf behind you with a thin black statue. Pull it.”

  She obeyed without question. The stones groaned off to the right, and a small passageway opened up, short enough his lordship would have to squat to walk through it.

  He nodded to it. “Go.”

  Realizing she had gone too far and he was dismissing her, she withdrew, bowing politely and missing the frustration in his eyes. Turning on her heel, she strode down a short hallway—

  To a library.

  She stared at it. Fighting the instinctual terror from the dismissal, she crept around the room, only to realize that no one else was there.

  Pausing, she turned and trotted back through the hallway to the office, noting the visibly relieved faces of Lady Kenna and Tobias. Her eyes flickered back to the lord, who breathed out his own tired sigh and said, “That wasn’t intended as a dismissal, Athereon. No. I am offering you the use of my library through my office every time you come by. You’ll have my permission to enter my office at any point to access it. You can take whichever books you’d like, and once I have a better understanding of what subjects, I will work on getting some ordered for you. I am owed enough favors to borrow directly from the Grand Central Library. So long as it is within my power to procure, whether as a copy or on loan, I will swear to provide any book you desire.”

  Dazedly, she said, “As long as I work for you, I assume?”

  He stared at her in consideration for several long seconds before he smirked. “No.”

  She frowned. “No?”

  He shrugged. “Not so long as you work for me.”

  Wary now, she asked, “What’s the timeframe then?”

  His smirk grew wicked. “Until I am dead or ordered to break it.”

  She gave him a hard stare, crossing her arms. “… until you are ordered to break it. Not Lord Everwinter. But you?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Are you insane?”

  He shrugged. “I will not always be Lord Everwinter.”

  She glowered at him. “… you intend to take me with you.”

  His dual-colored eyes flashed as he grinned. “I won’t deny the possibility, but more realistically it is so I can guarantee you always have access to books for as long as I live.”

  She growled. Her fists clenched at her sides before she crossed her arms. “Fine. Is that good enough for you?”

  He hummed in thought. “No.”

  “Fuck, then what do you want from me?”

  Chuckling, he said, “You deserve patents for your inventions. I’ll secure them.”

  The blood drained from her face. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

  His silence was thoughtful again as he nodded. “Understood.” Then he gestured at the table. “Take a seat.”

  Grumbling about no good, titled lords, she sat down with a flop onto the ground ready to get this bargain over with.