Chương 53: Subservient Squirt

Squirt kept her posture perfect as she waited for the lord prince's attention. Tonight was her last chance, after all—her last chance to convince him to let her remain out of the castle. He finished the bite of his food, swallowing a healthy glass of wine as he ushered her forward.

"Mystva, come in, come in." Why could none of these fey respect the name Squirt— She approached anyway, trying to find the right opportunity to ask her question without angering the others in the tent. Blathering idiot that he was, he didn't notice anything more than her being "shy." The lord prince spoke before she could find the opportunity, a self-assured smile on his face that killed the last of her hope.

"Alright, we arrive tomorrow. I've had a talking to with the Lady Cirn after some discussion with Lord Everwinter. She'll be giving you more space than at Everwinter Keep, but should you have need of her, she will be there in a heartbeat." Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. She opened her mouth to say something, but a flash of fear kept her from doing so. Yes, he'd been kind, belligerently so. But truthfully, she didn't trust this man.

She hadn't attempted the same kind of pushing of his boundaries as she had on Lord Everwinter because he was never surrounded by any less than five servants in various forms that practically worshipped the ground he walked on. To question him in front of them could be as insulting as blasphemy if they were of the wrong temperament. There were too many unknowns. To many listening ears.

The walls felt like they closed in around her as he blathered on about the plan for her to check in every three days, each detail something he related to something Lord Everwinter said that he then completely misapplied. He gave her a kind smile, completely misreading her expression.

"It's alright, Mystva. I'll make sure you're known as my honored guest, and no one will be fool enough to touch you." Despair struck. She was in the hands of an incompetent idiot. He continued. And there was nothing else she could do except say the expected, "Yes, my lord prince," at the end of his speech. With luck, she would be able to keep her head down, hide, do her duty, and exit without any more fuss. In this, she would not be so lucky. Squirt huddled in her saddle to make herself as small as possible.

She never thought she'd miss Lord Everwinter as much as she had last night. The lord prince was not above forcing her compliance through social manipulation, and she wasn't comfortable enough to fight against him no matter how much her gut churned. He didn't make nearly as much of an effort to see her point of view, and since even attempting to argue the point was almost blasphemy on its own, she didn't risk herself with further attempts. Just prepared for the worst and kept her head down.

Zakam and Anvanil, both sensing her increased tension, rode close enough to her sides for their legs to occasionally bump together. She didn't acknowledge either fey, focusing instead on making herself as small of a target as possible, one hand on the egg at her chest to soothe herself with its steady presence. They rode through the town much as they had ridden through Everwinter, with her right behind the Lord Prince Commander and lady knight, a position of notable importance.

Keeping her hood as low as she could, she still noted the curious looks from the fey in town braving the drizzle that had been going all morning. The town and accompanying keep were bigger than Everwinter, the houses more uniform in their additions, the walls adorned with a fresh coat of whitewash to make the castle itself gleam.

When they passed through the inner walls to the castle courtyard, she reluctantly passed her reins to a stable hand, murmuring the commands needed to Mole and already missing his comforting presence as he was led away. Instead, keeping her head bowed, she wove through the crowd, keeping as hidden as possible before standing behind the lord and lady.

"Welcome! My Lord Prince Commander, well met, indeed!" came a boisterous, proud voice. Squirt glanced up just long enough to note that the current Lady Riverlands was a fire fata wearing a warrior's outfit instead of a courtier's as she greeted the prince fondly.

"Celeste, it's good to see you well," said the prince as they clasped hands.

"What news?" The lady responded tersely, "Our scouts indicated another Skye airship crashed in the Wylds two days ago. I sincerely hope you've brought something more than traps that don't work." They turned to head down the halls, the lady knight just behind and on his left side, Squirt just behind on his right as he followed Lady Riverland into the castle proper.

"Ah yes, well, the good news is that we've made modifications to the traps for Heartsford just north of here. They're testing them out and will let us know, but the early signs are good."

"Hm. I'll believe that when I see it."

"Anything else?"

"Bandits and thieves. It's like Skye is dumping its villains in the mountains and directing them our way. Nothing overt. They're trying to weaken us to be ripe for picking next year."

"If we're lucky, that is. If not, they may try sooner."

"Any word yet from the spies over the mountains?" They continued discussing the impending war as they passed by more castle residents clearly trying to catch glimpses of the exciting visitors they had. Squirt kept her hood up and eyes down as expected of a demure servant, hoping none of them noticed her color. Lady Riverland then led them to a guest wing, opening up a door for the suite and leading them into a waiting group of attendants. She nodded to them, her chest puffed up in pride.

"Lady Hawthorne is my Seneschal. She's taken my youngest under her wing, and my daughter has become an attendant I can be proud of." The lord prince was unperturbed as the attendants rose from their kneel, one very pretty one with silver hair and eyes of a winter fey taking his cloak.

"They'll get you and your…" the lady trailed off as her eyes narrowed on Squirt.

"… you and your people cleaned and pressed of the road filth." The lord prince allowed them to begin to undress him with a mild, "I suppose Lady Hawthorne runs a tight household?" Lady Riverland snorted.

"Naturally. Lunch will be served when you are presentable in the solar, and we'll discuss what Riverland needs then." She turned on her heel and left the room, closing it behind her. Squirt was notably elbowed out of the way by eager attendants wanting to serve, stepping back and doing her best to fade into the back corner. Lady Cirn was given the same treatment as the prince as they undressed them both and led them to baths waiting for them.

Once they were gone, Lady Hawthorne studied Squirt with a sniff of dismissal.

"Do you have a clean uniform, servant?" The hair on the back of Squirt's neck stood up. She bowed and intoned, "I am lacking, my lady." She sniffed dismissively.

"Jens, find an appropriate uniform for the servant. It won't be tailored, but I won't have her attending the prince in my house dressed like that." She then ordered, "And remove the hood. A servant of the prince, wearing a hood—not in my house." Stolen novel; please report. The blood drained from Squirt's face. It wasn't the order itself. It was the way the woman spoke. She was a strict adherent to the ancient ways. Carefully, she pushed back the hood, keeping her eyes low and bracing herself.

Those few still in the room came to a standstill. One badly stifled a snort, another a disbelieving giggle.

"Lady Hawthorne, do you have—" came the voice of the silver haired daughter of Lady Riverland. In disgusted disbelief, she said, "… he has a greenling as a servant?"

"It appears so. I'll have no trouble, servant, not from you. You know how to wash yourself?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Good. There's a servant's privy down the hall. Towels in the cabinet." An attendant held out a uniform in regal golds and creams, dropping it before Squirt was ready. She caught it, but the intention was clear. She told the lord this was a bad idea. A greenling serving a prince was too far above her station.

"Well? Go on then." Squirt turned back towards the door when the woman said in exasperation, "Not that way. Gods. You must be slow of mind. Through the servant's door." Squirt bowed in apology and headed in the direction the lady pointed, cursing all titled fey. Damnit all, she should've stayed in the gods damned woods. Twice, Lady Hawthorne sent Squirt back to the privy before she was considered "tolerable" in her state. First, her hair was too messy from trying to wash it in the sink and the somewhat uneven cut.

Second because there was water on the uniform. Finally, clearly annoyed at her existence, she allowed Squirt into the room to take up a spot against the wall while the lord and ladies dined, the lord prince and Lady Riverland deep in discussion. None of the other attendants acknowledged her, though several shot her nasty looks. They weren't full of murderous intent, but they clearly weren't that far above it. That was fine.

As long as the lord didn't pay her any attention— Halfway through the meal, he glanced around and spotted her against the wall.

"Mystva, there you are. Come here." She obeyed promptly, her eyes down before dropping into a low bow by his side and waiting.

"Here—have you been fed yet?" Gods, no, please. There was no stopping his hands as he plated her food himself. It was an act that, with another fey, would show favor. Had he done this with Anvanil, for example, it would show he highly valued him, and he was a trusted member of his retinue. Squirt? Now she was damned if she did, damned if she didn't. If she accepted the plate, it would be against basic propriety for her to eat alongside him.

The servants, currently dismissive and annoyed at her existence, would turn murderous. If she didn't accept the plate, it was a slight against the prince that was punishable by lashes at the very least. It took every ounce of her self-control to not drop in utter terror at the casual and blatant disregard this man was showing for her station. And the worst part? He was clearly trying to be kind. He thought he was doing a great job at stating what he was trying to state.

"Here we are. A plate for you. Come, take a seat." Lady Hawthorne cut in, "My lord prince, I promise that she'll be well fed after your meal along with the rest of us." The prince exhaled sharply, clearly not a fan of this development. Squirt stayed bowed, praying silently that he listened to the lady. Finally, he sighed.

"Alright. Make sure of it, Lady Hawthorne. I'll leave her in your capable hands. Treat her well." Squirt kept her face completely blank and her eyes down. Only once the lord prince returned to his conversation did she bow a touch lower and slowly slink backwards towards the wall, conscious of the eyes on her. Later, she'd wring his stupid royal neck, because now they were under the impression that he was bedding her. Meaning he was open to mistresses outside of his mate circle. Gods, she hated titled fey.

Lady Hawthorne stared down her nose at Squirt's perfectly subservient posture and sniffed.

"You are to be gone on work for the prince, then?"

"Yes, my lady." She sniffed.

"And I suppose you'll get back on one of those filthy animals to do it." Squirt kept her posture perfect.

"… well, whatever his… proclivities may be, you will remember this is my house. I want no trouble from you, no matter whose bed you're in." She didn't respond. Couldn't, really, not without a direct question. Another derisive sniff.

"Go out the servant's way to the stable. When you return, you'll come back that way back to my office here before you disgrace his lordship with your rough appearance, no matter how urgent the message is. If it's an emergency, you pass that message along to any of the others to bring him before you sully my halls. Understood?"

"Yes, my lady." The woman waited. Squirt had played these games before with the Sia-bitch. She was likely hoping for Squirt to make a single mistake to punish her and replace her with one of her own attendants—likely Lady Riverland's daughter, with how the woman was pushing her tits up before serving the lord prince his wine all night long.

"Very well. Be gone." Squirt bowed an inch lower before backing up and exiting the room, then freezing at the four attendants waiting in the hall with their arms crossed and sneering at her.

"Gods, it's true, he does have a—""—gross—""—maybe she's good at sucking cock. Wanna get on your knees for me, darlin'?" Squirt bowed her head to them, forced by propriety to answer with all due decorum.

"My apologies, but I am sent on an errand and am not to delay."

"Fine. Begone then."

"Sooner she's gone, the sooner we can replace her."

"Things aren't that desperate in the Capital, are they?" The group continued to talk amongst themselves as they shot her dirty looks, and she waited until they were far enough away before slipping into the first closet she could find and putting her armor back on. The gold and cream uniform couldn't disappear, and she couldn't risk another gods damned one of them stopping her and deciding she didn't need to leave on that errand. Or worse, asking what the errand was, since she didn't actually have one.

They seemed to be under the impression she was riding around and bringing messages to important people for the lord, and she did nothing to challenge that assumption as it worked well enough for her needs. And not one of them had even considered the fact that she'd been wearing the uniform of the Guard with leather armor and a short sword — Whatever. Stupid fucking prisshats, she couldn't wait to be out of here.

Keeping her hood pulled low and using the cloak to hide herself in the shadows against the walls whenever anyone came near, she managed to avoid detection all the way to the stables. She'd never been more relieved to see an animal in her life as she was to see Mole. He perked up immediately, chewing on the grain they'd given him. Squirt scowled at the heated mash, sniffing the air. Gods damn fey had given her steed a better meal than they'd given her.

At least they had fed her, though it was clearly because Lady Hawthorne had promised his lordship to feed her and not because it was the right thing to do. She wasn't even allowed into the damn servant's mess—not that she would've risked it, anyway—and just handed stale bread and water by one of the attendants reluctantly before the lady summoned her to her office. Glancing around, she had to climb up the stall door to reach the lock and look around for her saddle.

"Oh miss?" She froze, practically falling to the ground as her attention snapped to the friendly looking stablehand. A brownie, her face lined with brown fur and dappled with pinks, her eyes a hazel blend of brown and pink. She gave Squirt a tentative smile.

"That there your beast?" Squirt eyed her warily and bowed.

"Yes, madame."

"Oh! Oh, I'm just an assistant, um… you can call me Steva instead of madame." Squirt lifted her gaze to eye the brownie, but there was a genuineness to her that reminded Squirt of Tobias.

"Oh, let me go get his saddle for you. It was the most interesting thing—was it custom made?" Brownies were almost as small as pixies, and she disappeared into a closet briefly before grunting and coming out carrying Mole's saddle, his bridle draped over the top.

"Give me a minute and I'll saddle him for you. I've gotta say, he's so well trained. Did you train him yourself?" Squirt answered carefully, "No. He was trained by someone else."

"Well, whoever it was, he's a dream. Stood so well for me, isn't that right, boy?" Mole snorted and stood a little taller at the praise. The happy brownie then hopped up on top of a stool, setting the tack down and gesturing with her hand. The stall door unlatched itself and she clucked her tongue. Mole trotted over to her happily, standing perfectly still as she began setting up the saddle.

"You must be something special to have a custom saddle and such a well-trained beast by your side. And you treat him well, too. He really loves you." Must be more beast tamer magic. Squirt shifted as her cheeks flushed at the praise, her eyes down and away as she bit her lip. The brownie continued to chat aimlessly, clearly used to filling the empty space between fey with a constant stream of words.

The chatter was oddly soothing after the stress of the last few hours, and Squirt found herself relaxing as she listened to the little brownie.

"All set. You'll be safe, right? It'll be dark in a few hours." Squirt snorted. She'd be safer in the woods than she was in the castle by far.

"You're a hunter, right? I guess. I mean, based on the weapons and his specialties and this saddle and all." Squirt's lips twitched. The only fey to notice something besides her coloring in this whole damn castle.

"Well good luck and may the Hunt bless your bow." Squirt found herself softening as she nodded to the brownie in appreciation. Without another word, she gave the command to follow and started trotting out of the castle, keeping to alleyways and shaded spots. The guards at the castle gate and keep gate both gave her derisive glances, but waved her through, and once she was free of the walls, she broke out into a run, whistling and leaping onto Mole's back as they took off for the forest.

She had never thought she'd be so glad to see a redcap and shadowfell in her life.