Page 28 of The Blood Queen

I upset her.

My stomach turns, but I fight to compartmentalize it.

“Security,” she says curtly. “Same as us trying to get into the palace at first. Keeps us from wandering.”

I frown at the brownie. “We can’t be free to leave?”

He harrumphs. “You are. Just not unaccompanied. Until the prince decides you are trustworthy.”

“Alyth is trustworthy.”

The brownie’s nose curls. “Alyth, yes. You, not so much, hm?” He flicks his wrist at the door closest to him before I can retort again. “This room is for you, Miss Alyth. And that one”—he juts his chin behind him—“is for your… Him. You’ll find the supplies you requested inside.”

“Thank you,” Alyth tells him, tired. She rubs at her temple before dropping her hand. “The Mugdock portal was unguarded.”

The brownie, who had started to turn away, stops and cocks his head at her. “Hm?”

“The Mugdock portal,” Alyth repeats, her voice thinning. “It was unguarded. I closed it, but we need to be sure all the other live portals are guarded.”

For a beat, I think the brownie might be foolish enough to dismiss her. Again.

But he bobs his head halfway between a nod and a bow. “I’ll see it done, Miss Alyth.”

“And—” Alyth holds out a hand, staying the brownie. “I know you can communicate with any brownie in either realm. I have nothing to offer you for this favor, but…”

The brownie cocks his head.

“In Stirling Castle,” Alyth continues, “I… I care about the brownies there. And the people and others. But with all this happening, could you check in on them? Give them warning of what’s happening?”

My eyes widen and flick from Alyth’s face to the brownie.

His stoic mask slips, and the faintest flash of surprise pulses across him. He blinks quickly, but it lingers, and a smile creases his face. “I can, Lady Alyth.”

“There’s one in particular. I call her Kitty. Could you make sure she’s safe?”

The brownie bows to Alyth, respect shining on his face. “I will,” he promises, then vanishes in a blink.

“He’s not used to compassion,” I note.

Alyth shrugs like it’s no matter. It’s a huge matter, and I don’t know how she doesn’t see that. Same way she doesn’t see how much power she wields in just being her.

We’re alone in the hall, but Alyth still doesn’t turn to me. She’s not looked at me or spoken to me since I snapped at her, and another layer of guilt wends itself around my stomach.

My eyes flutter shut, bracing, before I look down at her. “Let me help bandage your wounds. Please.”

No reaction for a moment.

Then a stiff nod.

She pushes into her room, and I trail after her, shutting the door behind us.

The room is just as fine as the rest of the palace. A massive four-poster bed dominates the space, with a blanket that looks like moss laid across it and bedposts made of wood taken straight from a tree, branches intact and even leaves dangling from the boughs. The bed’s set across from a roaring fireplace that pleasantly warms the room, and a table and chairs sit near it, the table spread half with food, half with bandages and small bottles that must be ointments.

We take seats at the table. I pull my chair closer to Alyth, reaching for a bandage, but she waves it away and plucks a small glass vial from the assortment. When she opens it, an herbal smell makes my nose tingle.

“A healing tincture,” she says. “It’ll mend shallow wounds in a few minutes.”

“A few—a few minutes?” My brows pop. “Damn. Where’s this been on the other side?”