The kitchen was quieter when Keira returned, but only slightly. The fires still burned, the smell of herbs and smoke still clung to the walls, and pots clanged in the distance. She rubbed her arms, the chill of the prince's dining hall still sitting under her skin.
Yvaine looked up from where she was stacking jars on a shelf and immediately frowned. "You look like you've just walked through a ghost."
Keira gave her a tired look. "I might have."
Yvaine stepped closer, squinting at her face. "You're pale. Paler than usual. What happened?"
"I ran into someone."
"Didn't Tarin just ask you to deliver food to the prince? Who could you have ran into?"
"He said he was the prince's younger brother."
Yvaine dropped the jar she was holding. It hit the ground with a muffled thud but didn't break. She slowly turned toward Keira, her brows pulled together. "Wait, you what?"
Keira shifted her weight. "He had blond hair. He smiled too much. He was full of jokes, a jester."
"Cael." Yvaine sighed.
"Is that really…?"
"Yes," Yvaine said flatly. "That's Cael. Prince Riven's brother. And yes, his actual brother. It is not a joke. Not a trick. It is not some Fae prank to loosen your grip on reality."
Keira opened her mouth, closed it, and then looked away. "…I see."
Yvaine rolled her eyes. "Humans. You people think the weirdest things are impossible and then walk into a talking mirror and act normal."
"I just wasn't expecting…"
"You shouldn't expect anything here," Yvaine muttered. "Now come along. We've got to check on the stables."
"Stables?"
"Yes. His Highness is partial to horses. They're cleaner than people and complain less. You should learn about the prince's interests if you are to remain as his servant."
Keira bit her lip, cursing the prince in her mind.
She followed her out through a side passage, past an ivy-wrapped archway and down a stone path that led out into the eastern fields. The morning fog was thick, curling around their ankles like smoke.
The stables were massive. The roof arched high above, beams crisscrossed like ribs. Inside, the scent of hay, earth, and something sharper clung to the air.
Keira paused at the entrance, in awe of the place.
Yvaine grinned. The humans were always stunned whenever they visited the stables. "Come on, don't get dreamy-eyed. You're here to clean."
There were at least two dozen stalls, but it didn't take long to notice the ones that held the more… noble creatures. A few horses were small, skittish, their coats a mottled brown. Others were sleek, silver-gray or gold-tinged, watching them with cool indifference.
And then there was that one.
Massive. Jet-black. Muscles like boulders rippling beneath its hide. It stood in the far corner, smoke curling from its nostrils as it pawed the ground with an agitated hoof.
It didn't look like it belonged in a stable. It looked like it belonged in a war.
Yvaine jerked her chin toward it. "That one's his favorite. Shadowmare. Likes to throw anyone who gets too close. Here." She handed Keira a scoop of feed. "Go on. Let's see if you can manage."
Keira hesitated. "You want me to walk up to that thing?"
Yvaine shrugged. "Trial by fire."
Keira inched forward, clutching the feed with both hands. The horse, Shadowmare, apparently, snorted. Steam jetted from its nostrils. Its eyes gleamed red for half a second.
She raised a hand.
And it screamed.
Not a neigh. A scream, high-pitched, furious, sharp enough to rattle the beams overhead.
Keira dropped the scoop and stumbled back.
"Gods!"
Yvaine grabbed her elbow and yanked her to the side as the horse lunged forward, teeth bared. The enchanted reins held, but just barely.
Keira gasped. "I am not doing that again."
"Well done," a calm voice said from behind them. "You almost lost your fingers."
They turned.
A Fae with sharp, emerald eyes and midnight hair leaned against the stable's central post. His tunic was dark green, stitched with gold leaves. He was handsome in a too-perfect way, like someone carved from marble, or from memory.
Beside him stood a human girl, Renna. She had a braid down her back and dust on her cheeks, a broom slung over one shoulder.
Renna gave Keira a sympathetic smile. "He's always like that. Shadowmare doesn't trust easily."
"He doesn't trust at all," the Fae added, brushing a bit of hay off his sleeve. "Unruly beast. A force of chaos, just like his master."
"Who are you?" Keira asked.
He gave her a slow smile. "You can call me Fenric. And you must be the girl they're whispering about in the East Wing. The Prince's pet project."
Yvaine narrowed her eyes. "That's enough."
Fenric raised his hands in mock innocence. "I'm only curious. They say you were assigned to serve the Crown directly. That's quite the honor."
Keira said nothing. She wasn't sure what she was allowed to say, or if this was another game.
Yvaine stepped between them. "We're here to clean, not speak of foolish things. Let's get on with it."
"By all means," Fenric said with a smile. "Just be careful. Shadowmare bites. And not just with his teeth."
He vanished down the corridor, whistling something strange and sharp that made the horses shift nervously in their stalls.
Renna rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. He's always like that."
Keira let out a shaky breath. Her heart was still hammering.
"I really don't like this place," she muttered.
Yvaine slapped a broom into her hand. "You don't say, human. It doesn't have to like you either."
Keira looked down the row of stalls, each one holding something more fantastical, and more unnerving, than the last. The smell of magic and earth filled her nose. Somewhere in the far corner, Shadowmare snorted again, its breath coiling like smoke.
She exhaled.
If the horse didn't kill her, the Fae might. Or maybe the castle itself.