Wind Wielder

Chapter 44 - A Servants Promenade

The next morning Zara was bustling down the corridors, chin downcast and hands chalk full of Eris' dirty laundry which he had left for her in his empty room on the floor in a clump by the secret door. 

A note with hastily scribbled jot notes was left on top. Perhaps it was a hastily assembled cover story for her sudden appearance, or perhaps it was Eris's recollection of a piss poor trip he'd experienced on the colorful mushrooms native only to the Autumn Court wildest edges– Zara couldn't tell. Either way, she'd read the loopy cursive writing and promptly chucked it in Eris's fireplace, scowling all the while.

The Heir of Autumn hadn't told her where to go to eat food, or how to get to the laundry rooms, so Zara had been up until nearly Dawn, listening to the winds bustling about the halls, eavesdropping on the voices of maids and servants working through the night.

Of course, that was only half the reason she had been unable to fall asleep last night, pacing the limited floor space of her new quarters.

Eris had practically handed Beron's life over to her on a silver plate.

Of course, there would be complications. She'd still need to break through wards and find long lost passages and deceive the entire serving staff of Beron's inner Court, but she was sure she could manage. The real trouble to enact her revenge, was the political fallout as an honorary member of the Night Court and an ex member of the Dawn court that Zara was certain would get her, and at least two Courts into serious trouble when she took her revenge. But now with Autumns future High Lord Eris endorsing her, encouraging her, she was able to do as she damn well pleased.

She could send a message. She'd use Berons bloodied, decapitated head as a message for anyone who wished to hunt her down, for anyone who wished to turn her into game as her mother had been hunted. And maybe, she'd even use Berons rotting skull as a beacon of hope for anyone else out there in the world like her... if there was any... if the artefact from Day Court had somehow, hopefully been wrong...

A shadow curled around Zara's ankle and stayed there. Azriel.

Shortly after arriving in her room last night, Zara had sent her winds to him as she had promised. As they returned to her, they came with a companion, her little shadow.

Zara was only seventy percent sure she was approaching the correct door with her great heaping pile of bedding. She rested her pile between one arm and her knee to quickly knock on the door, feeling the itchy fabric of her uniform scratch her knee on the way down as she returned her arm to holding Eris's sheets.

The arched doorway opened, and to her complete shock, a bright magenta red face greeted her. Complete with spikes on the cheeks and yellow eyes and everything.

A fire nymph.

Zara blinked, before curtsying low, as well as she could with her arms stuffed full. "Hello, I'm Penelope." Zara greeted, keeping her eyes slightly downcast out of respect. "I'm the new maid transferred from Lord Eris' estates. I don't mean to–"

"Oh heavens YES!" The fireling greeted in relief, and extended a scaled, talon tipped hand that was painfully hot to wrap around Zara's wrist and drag her through the doorway. "Thank the mother, they finally listened to us. I've been telling them to send more laundress aid! Especially with Berons tempers recently we've been a bit short staffed. Sorry– not to say that he's a bad boss– he just incinerates people when he's lost his temper. Oops! No sorry, I don't mean that.. well I suppose it is true–but not to worry! You're just a laundress like me so we're the relatively safe ones, I'd say." The fire nymph rambled, leading Zara through the doorway into a painfully tight hallway that reeked of damp earth and vines, like the one Eris had led her through last night.