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“Um . . . are you sure?” Never had I been asked to address someone above my station with such familiarity. I might have done so in my head, but not to their faces.

“Believe me, the titles grow wearing. I prefer Roar.” He smiled. “However, if you must, my lord will do.”

Burning skies. This lord was different.

“Alright, then,” I said slowly. “Well, I’m Neve. No house. No titles. Nothing to my name at all, in fact.” I paused. “Thank you for not returning me to the Blood Court.”

“Did your mother give you that name?” he asked.

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Neve is not a common name in this kingdom, but you’re quite obviously one of us,” Lord Roar said. “No Summer, Spring, nor even an Autumn fae could survive the cold we’ve been experiencing. Especially not wet, as Frode said. But, you’ll soon learn that the fae of Winter’s Realm look out for one another.”

“Ah, no. My old master named me. I don’t know what I was called before I became a slave,” I answered.

“Perhaps one day you’ll choose your own name.” He smirked. “I have to admit, I like a fae with the tenacity to fight for herself. As you escaped the Vampire Court, you certainly have done so.”

Was he genuine? Or was this some twisted form of the truth? I couldn’t see how . . .

“As it so happens, you’ve arrived at a very good time for me. I’ve had a problem I needed solving and your appearance might be the answer. Should you wish to hear my proposition, that is?”

“Excuse me?”

“Come. I’ve promised you food.” He swept a slender-fingered hand to the door. “And if you’re amenable to hear a fae out, I believe we might come to an arrangement that benefits us both.”

Chapter 7

The Warden of the West led me straight into the kitchens. “What would you like?” he asked as three cloven-foot cooks stopped what they were doing and waited; hands clasped behind them.

“Um, whatever you have?”

“We have anything your heart desires.”

My lips parted in shock. All my life, I’d only been able to choose from a few rotating foods on the day’s menu.

For a moment, I allowed myself to dream of what I might actually want to eat, but the possibilities quickly overwhelmed me. Not to mention, I suspected that the food here differed from in the Blood Court. It certainly had to be different from what I’d been given, which had always been nutritious enough to keep a blood slave healthy but never very tasty. I swallowed loudly, starving but at a complete loss for what to say. Noticing the cooks still waited, my cheeks warmed and I pulled Frode’s cloak, which he hadn’t bothered to reclaim, tighter around me.

“Might I offer a suggestion?” the high lord asked softly.

“Please.”

“Last night I had an excellent roast with freshly picked vegetables from the greenhouses. While I wouldn’t normally give a guest leftovers—”

“Actually,” I interrupted, as my stomach growled. Roast was something I knew, something I liked better than most foods, particularly after a drawing. The meat here would likely have salt and flavor too. “That sounds great.”

His eyes twinkled. “I’m of the opinion that the roast my cooks prepare is often better on the second day anyway. Something about the sauces having time to meld. Or so they tell me.” He grinned conspiratorially. As if I would know anything about decadent sauces. “Of course, you’ll want wine from the Summer Isles to pair with it. I have a few of the best bottles in all of Isila. How’s that?”

“That all sounds wonderful,” I replied as my mouth began to water.

“Perfect.” He gave the order to the cooks.

They assured their lord that the roast would be ready within minutes. Pleased, the warden took me by the elbow and guided me out of the kitchen into a smaller room down the hall.

A circular table for four sat near a hearth, already lit. Plush crimson rugs looked so inviting that I wanted to sink my cold toes into them, and landscape paintings lined the walls. The large window overlooked the vast expanse of the castle grounds. Greenhouses dotted the lawn, many more than I would have considered practical.

“It’s how we supply our own vegetables here,” Lord Roar offered when he caught me looking. “It’s often too cold to plant them in the soil, and we sometimes import them, but with the use of greenhouses and fae with earth magic, we make it work.”

“Does everyone have one?” A palace was one thing, but did the common fae have access to vegetables?