Chương 93: Sudden Squirt Dependents

Squirt narrowed her eyes at her fellow greenling when a blast of magic radiated out from the lord, the entire castle shaking as an effect of his rage. She was shielded by Pakos, the vampire lord prince only a split second behind her hound in shielding Dusty. She whipped her head around, catching sight of the murderous rage in the lord's eyes. Shit. Kenna moved while Squirt was still staring in slack jawed awe at the visible color of his magic filling the room, so thick was his aura.

The she-wolf threw her arms around his neck, baring her own for him in the same movement. His arms caught her, and she murmured something in soothing tones in his ear, stroking the back of his head as the maelstrom of magic slowly eased into a pulse of barely restrained power. Once Squirt could breathe again without the aid of a shield, she shifted her eyes back towards the other greenling. His eyes were wide in fright, but his lips were pressed in a firm, determined line as he stared her down.

It was Zhadin who spoke next.

"Why is Annabelle sending her more danger?" Squirt blinked a few times. That was what set the lord off? Pakos oh so helpfully supplied, It's enough to make me blush, from his position on the furs. Belly up, legs sprawled, the hound looked like he hadn't a care in the world. Meanwhile, the lord was struggling to retain control over his body. Squirt shot the hound an accusatory glare. Normally he was the one up in arms and ready to defend her against her wishes, why was he now just silently observing?

Represent well, mother. Motherfuck— Dusty's tenor voice spoke up, a wary edge to it.

"She isn't. This is greenling business." It took Squirt half a second to remember the "she" was the fucking queen. Squirt narrowed her eyes. Pakos had called her a representative for greenling kind not an hour ago. Even as he rolled to his stomach, looking slightly more alert, he remained calm. Unobtrusive. There was no posturing from the hound, no anticipation. Nothing that would suggest he was even remotely curious about the circumstances that brought more greenlings here. A stone formed in her gut. Shit. Fuck.

Was the Hunt involved somehow? Why? For what purpose? Ignoring the premonition of impending disaster, Squirt shifted her eyes to Dusty, the glare softening just slightly to consideration. Studying the youth to his face, the gleam of stubborn resolve, even the way his shoulders were not hunched but squared off even in unfamiliar company. In an instant, the two silently gauged each other's level of trust with those in the room. Weighing. Measuring.

Satisfied with his silent response, Squirt bit out in greenling, "What kind of greenling business involves a damn lord prince?" He answered back in greenling, his voice quiet but serious.

"The kind with deadly consequences." Squirt pressed her lips into a firm line.

"And why should I help you?" Despite the trust exercise, Dusty eyed the others behind her warily before responding. His eyes lingered on Lord Everwinter before he spoke, this time in Common.

"In exchange, we will help hide you from prying eyes." Kenna and Lord Everwinter perked up immediately, their eyes alight with interest. Squirt didn't notice as she scoffed, answering him back in Common.

"Right. Hide me. From what, exactly?"

"By making you disappear amidst the other greenlings. By giving you the option of a greenling death." The others exchanged glances. Squirt's temper rose. Dusty clearly noted her look, his eyes scanning the room once more before he spoke again, quieter.

"I may not know you directly, Lord Everwinter, but An—Queen Annabelle speaks highly of your character." His eyes returned to Squirt.

"To be in their den willingly, I assume you trust them even if they aren't your fey?" Squirt went still. Her fey. Shit. They thought she was one of them still. Did he even know the Sia-bitch was dead? Dusty took her silence as a yes, nodding once before he continued.

"It's a half-baked plan, I'd admit. I wasn't the one to come up with it, but with the cooperation of Lord Everwinter—" he bowed politely to the lord before straightening and fixing his eyes back on Squirt, "—we can at least make it more difficult to find you, specifically."

"How?" she bit out incredulously.

"By dressing ourselves as you." Dead silence. Stunned, Squirt failed to break it, her mind reeling too quickly for words to be the priority. Dress as her? Dress as her? Were they stupid? The point of a greenling death was to simply replace someone's position with a new greenling and announce the previous one had died. No one ever questioned it. Why would they? Tasks were completed as expected, and they didn't have to deal with the paperwork or hassle of finding a replacement when one simply appeared.

What he was implying wasn't a fucking greenling death. It wasn't removing the target from the targeting fey's sphere of influence, it was deliberately making themselves all targets. To even make it work, they'd need a huge number of… of greenlings. Shit. How many were there? Her eyes focused back on his face. Gods, he looked dead serious about this. They genuinely thought this was a good idea, but why?

They'd have to have more than a few dozen at least to make it even remotely effective, and the idea of that many willingly braving the Outskirts, the supposed last fucking resort for greenlings—at least according to the elders—was nigh laughable. They would be risking their lives constantly, daily, with none of the allies protecting them that she'd grown to rely on, in an unfamiliar place that required violence to survive.

The greenling code was for passivism and running from danger, not— If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. Then again, this time of year they'd be relatively safe from the feybeasts, at least— But even then, for her? She couldn't even be one of them anymore, not really. Why else had she never tried? She had never been culled. But she would have been, had they known.

Did the queen allow this idiot to come here without telling him about the Sia-bitch's demise? Did he think that the code didn't apply if it was someone else's hand? The only reason that it was someone else's was that the bitch had a habit of being too stubborn to die. Her wings. Gods. Her wings. None of them knew, and— The silence stretched uncomfortably long before Squirt finally replied with the most succinct thing she could.

"Are you insane?" Kenna asked innocently, "What is a greenling death?" Dusty gave her a polite bow before answering like a fucking traitor.

"It's a safety thing, my lady. Should a greenling run into trouble in their usual places, they are replaced. If anyone asks, they have perished." He straightened, considering her before saying, "This won't be quite the same, my lady, but we greenlings have little to offer beyond our existence. We hope to buy our place in Everwinter until spring with this offer." Squirt snapped, "I don't need any fucking help."

Lord Everwinter's voice rumbled a little with the growl of his wolf, still clearly on edge, his arms still wrapped around Kenna's waist.

"You realize what a risk this is to your people." Squirt's attention snapped to the lord. There was a reluctant equation happening in his eyes, and she could tell he was weighing the merits even of the sides he didn't like. Her eyes flickered to Kenna, noting the analytical glint in her eyes and stubborn tilt to her chin. Shit. They were genuinely considering this. Slackjawed, Squirt stared at them while Dusty answered, "We know that the bounty on her head is to bring her alive.

Accidents can happen but," he shrugged, "we've accepted the risk, my lord. All of us." Faltering slightly, Squirt asked, "Why would you risk yourself for me?" Dusty gave her an odd look then. He shifted his gaze to the others in the room meaningfully, then returned his eyes to her pointedly. Squirt opened her mouth to say something, only no sound came out. No argument. No insult. Nothing. More quietly in greenling, Dusty murmured, "We have a chance for the first time in living memory to change our fates.

You're worth the risk. All for one." Terror and rage seized her lungs. She wasn't even one of them. Not anymore. To attempt to end the life of one's fey was the highest offense a greenling could commit, a cullable offense, and she'd committed it twice before the pest finally finished the job. Lord Everwinter studied her conflicted expression before saying quietly, "I will accept the greenlings as citizens without the need for such dire measures." Squirt's eyes drifted up to his serious expression. He held her gaze.

"But we will keep the option open." Squirt went to argue, only for her eyes to flicker to Kenna's and the words to catch in her throat. Three assassination attempts in the last two weeks on Bartos alone. Kenna's relief at Zhadin acting as her shadow guard played on repeat in her mind. The tinge of exhaustion in her eyes. The silent ask from the woman. Pleading with Squirt to at least consider the option. Fuck that. Squirt's fists balled at her sides as she growled quietly. This was bullshit.

Lord Everwinter returned his eyes to Dusty appraisingly.

"What else did our Queen have to say?" Dusty spoke cautiously, but there was an optimistic look to his eyes.

"She has suggested that you would be amenable to enacting bargains with us, policies we're hoping to apply to the country as a whole." The country… as a whole? Wait… it couldn't be… The color drained from Squirt's face as she remarkably only now put together two and two— Shit, had the queen mated this prick? Was this the one that had spoken to Lord Prince Ranin when he questioned her after the shadowfell incident? Policies, what policies?

Surely, they couldn't—they weren't expecting—change on that scale was impossible, so why— Why was Pakos silent? If anything, the bond between them was filled with nothing but silent reassurances, all of which did anything but. Dusty said, "She's written you a letter with updates and an explanation, Lord Everwinter." The vampire said blandly, "Oh, that's right," before he fished in his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment with a wax seal on it.

Lord Everwinter accepted it with one hand, his other still wrapped around Kenna's waist, the action somehow possessive and unconscious. Squirt spared a thought wondering whether or not the lord had pulled his head out of his ass and realized he had two perfectly wonderful fey pining after him yet.

The letter in Lord Everwinter's hand unfolded itself, the seal neatly cut by the smallest blade of water without the lord even gesturing, the action so ingrained he didn't shift beyond his eyes as they scanned over the page. It was enough to make Squirt furious. Well. More furious, anyway. Her right hand was twitching over her blade even if she didn't have a target. Dusty might make a good target. Shit, but not if he'd mated the queen — Did he realize what he'd done?

Lord Everwinter interrupted her thoughts as he asked, "How many of you are there?" Dusty answered, "Just over a hundred, milord." Squirt went white so fast the world spun. Tendrils wrapped around her wrists, tugging her gently back against the wall before her knees gave out. Zhadin's voice was soft as they murmured, "Breathe for me." When they inhaled, she did as well, her shoulders instinctively relaxing into them as she exhaled. One hundred? One hundred? Pakos said nothing.

If anything, he mentally retreated from her, becoming nothing more than a silent observer. Her wide eyes shifted to the hound in disbelief. The queen had sent a third of the greenling population to Everwinter, to her specifically. Pakos remained strangely silent while Lord Everwinter and Dusty discussed one hundred greenlings dressing as she did, as members of the Everwinter Guard. Greenlings.

Those raised on ideas of absolute pacifism as responses to even the worst treatment, sent to live in the Outskirts specifically to be where she was, when Everwinter's food supplies were already tight. The Whims didn't care about greenlings. Neither did the gods. Only the Hunt had ever responded to a single prayer of Squirt's. Pakos had called her a representative for greenling kind. Did that mean the Hunt… Was it not just Squirt? This was too much. She hadn't asked for this.

She hadn't asked for anyone to come here and risk themselves — Fuck it. She needed out. She couldn't think. Not here. Not like this. With that, she wiggled out of Zhadin's arms. Falling back on her standard defense of anger, she hissed out, "You're all idiots," before she darted out of the room without a backwards glance. Decoded by Lord Everwinter using the Dex'at cipher. Dear Lord Everwinter, It seems I am once again barred from doing what is right in favor of what is possible. First, your update.

While I have cleared out the two Families that have challenged my rule directly, I'm struggling to eradicate this damnable cult that seems to have its grubby paws in every coin purse in the Capital. The only way to do so would be to infringe on the freedoms of the many in order to capture the few, and I will not compromise my morals so early into my rule without absolute assurance it is worth it. Progress is being made, but it is slower than I'd like.

The Skyian King refuses to wage war as is tradition, instead continuing to choose guerilla tactics that weaken us. I'm not unfamiliar with these tactics, but it took far longer than I'd like to admit to get my war council to consider the possibility that this is not a traditional fey war on a traditional fey battlefield. We now have patrols along all of our more traditional mountain passes, thank the gods, for we've stopped several incursions already.

The cloaks from Athereon have done wonders for our troops in this. The war council is singing her praises once more. The promise of those cloaks was the only reason they agreed to my demands for countermeasures in the first place, and now it is paying off handsomely. I may have " lost" more than a few of my belongings, but it was either them or taking it out on the council, and I refuse to do as my grandfather did and smite those who disagree just because they disagree. Even if it is incredibly tempting.

On that note, I'd appreciate it if you could lend me your furniture maker in the Capital. Things over the mountains remain at an impasse. Though we expect war to be officially declared next spring, it's clear the Skyian King has no intention of letting us build our strength in the meantime, even if he claims innocence to the Allied Council. This brings me to my ask of you, though I know my debts keep piling up. I am sending you extra supplies, my newest mate, and a group of greenlings. Circumstances have changed.

I cannot change course to help such a small population at this time, but neither can I turn a blind eye. I know you will do well by them. I intend to use Everwinter as an example from which to build future policy. Athereon has done much more for her people than anyone could have ever expected, and we must capitalize on that while public favor in Everwinter could be swayed. Work with my mate to draft and enact policies. We will use this as a template for the future to come.

I recognize I have asked much of both you and Athereon as of late. I expect I will have to ask for more before the year is out. All I can say is that it will be worth the struggle in the end. Sincerely, Queen Annabelle