Yet beneath her calm exterior lay an unspoken challenge: "Yes, I poisoned her. And if you don't like it, you can choke on it."
Morven stared deeply into her eyes.
"My lady," he said, "you have truly earned my respect."
To wield poison so silently, so perfectly, undetected.
Lady Wilhelmina never suspected it was Zyra.
Otherwise, she wouldn't have fled in such a panic instead of retaliating immediately.
The courage, the means, it was a world away from the fragile beauty he once knew.
Zyra thought to herself, From now on, I'll make you see me in a whole new light.
She was a creature of few words, a taciturn soul with a slight difficulty in expressing herself. Only when facing Morven did she make the effort to speak more than a few sentences.
In the two days since they met, she had spoken more to him than she had in a decade spent isolated in the hills.
As an advisor to the crown, she could not be a mute.
She was practicing, pushing through her barriers.
Looking up, she saw Rabbit Thorn return. Though small, no more than a foot in length, the creature was deft and nimble. It stood upright on its hind legs, carrying a plate in each paw, and balanced another atop its head as it proudly approached the table.
Morven's eyes widened in surprise.
There were three freshly cooked dishes: a platter of sautéed hare with wild mushrooms, a bowl of spiced crustaceans braised in rich broth, and a steaming dish of fragrant dumplings.
The aroma was intoxicating, rich and inviting.
Morven, who was usually indifferent to lavish meals, found his appetite unexpectedly stirred. Compared to the fare at Lady Elara's tavern, these dishes were in an entirely different league.
"Try some," Zyra said, having already dismissed the leftovers from the previous banquet and invited him to sit and eat.
Morven took a dumpling and bit into it; his expression shifted subtly.
Delicious.
He wondered if even the fare of the fabled realm's nobles could compare.
Though not hungry before, his appetite was now fully awakened.
Having traveled widely and commanded many enterprises, including taverns and kitchens staffed by renowned chefs of the realm, he had tasted the best. Yet these dishes outshone them all.
"Is that… a spirit chef?" he asked as he ate.
At that moment, Rabbit Thorn returned with a bowl of violet broth and a bowl of rice.
"In a manner of speaking," Zyra replied thoughtfully.
A spirit chef among the fae was akin to a master cook among humans.
Morven sipped the broth, immediately captivated. The simple soup brought out the pure essence of the violet shoots, infused with a faint, otherworldly energy, a true delicacy.
"A rabbit spirit?" he inquired.
Ordinary rabbits did not cook, much less walk upright like a human.
Before Zyra could answer, Morven added, "No, it cannot be. There's no trace of spirit energy on it."
The hatred between humans and fae was deep-rooted in the kingdom.
Any malevolent fae bore a heavy aura, a stench of evil.
But this cooking rabbit was as pure as fresh snow, no trace of bloodthirst or malice.
Zyra said nothing, though inside she was tense, carefully observing Morven's every move and expression.
The realm loathed fae; how would he feel about her true nature?
After all, she was a fae herself, the very queen of all fae.
If Morven despised fae, she would need to guard her secret with utmost care.
If he did not, that would be even better.
Morven finished the soup and rice, having eaten more than half the dishes. Satisfied, he put down his chopsticks.
"Since it's not, then let it be," he said softly.
Zyra lowered her lashes, her pale eyes flickering with a quiet light.
Those words carried a second meaning.
If it were truly fae, she would have cast it away.