The Fae Queen's Captive: Peculiar Tastes #6 by Sierra Simone

Author:Sierra Simone [Simone, Sierra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bonkers Romance Presents
Published: 2022-10-03T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 9

I wake not in the queen’s bed but in my own, blinking up at a canopy embroidered with black roses and bone-white antlers. The indifferent light of dawn stretches through the window, which means it should be early, but I feel as if I’ve slept an embarrassingly long amount of time. Like I’ve slept the first hard, real sleep I’ve had since jumping feetfirst into the sausage grinder of grad student life.

Even so, when I sit up and swing my feet out of bed, I still feel floaty, bright and aware and hungry.

Not for food, though. Not at all.

But my eagerness to get back to the queen is forestalled when I see the tub in the middle of my room has been replaced with a table. It’s carved and fashioned in the shape of a doe dipping her head to drink, and on her wooden back rests a plate of warm bread and fluffy butter, a bowl of mixed berries and cream, and a steaming cup of tea. A note written in dark red ink is propped against the teacup.

You may not see me until you’ve eaten. Don’t forget salt.

–M

M. It can only be her, which means that can only be her initial. Her name starts with M.

I guess a few possible names as I find the salt—Marian, Margaret, Myrtle—and sprinkle a few grains on each of the breakfast items. Maybe I could get the queen’s name today—or whatever it is she’d like to be called, in light of the fairies’ wariness around true names. I yearn to call her something more intimate than Your Majesty. Even if the whole Your Majesty thing is a little hot.

And the need to see her is like a leash tugging on my neck, and how would she know if I’d eaten anyway? Maybe I could just eat a bite or two, so that it wouldn’t be lying if I said I ate some breakfast, and then I could go find her right away…

I take a bite of bread and butter with salt sprinkled on top, and it’s the best bread I’ve ever eaten, and so I take another bite, and another, and by the time I’ve finished, I feel suddenly more solid. Less floaty. Like I’m sobering up, although I wasn’t even drunk last night.

The world is sober now too. The low fire in my fireplace is a normal fire; the dawn sky outside is beautiful, but the same beauty I’ve known my entire life. And my searing need to see the queen…

Well, it’s still there, but at least I can think other thoughts too. Think logically about things. Does salt help with thinking clearly, along with keeping me ready to go back to the mortal world?

Weird.

The wardrobe provides yet again: thick hose with suede patches inside the knees, a green dress made of a fine wool and split up the skirt for easy riding, and a warm cloak the gold-yellow of birch leaves in autumn.

After I dress, I make use of

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