Page 37 of Lady Knight and the Thief

“Don’t insult me,” Cypress said, then turned on her heel and left Torren where he stood.

“I mean it, Lass. Don’t cause trouble with my people!”

Cypress merely waved her hand at him as she kept striding away, aimed toward what looked to be the center of the camp. She followed her nose until she came across a large pot of stew, a Small Folk stirring the contents slowly from the top of a very large step ladder.

She only knew the Fair Folk by sight, as they had once been in the Keep. Now that Cypress knew Torren’s suspicions about Caelith, she couldn’t help but feel as if the lack of Fair Folk in and around the Keep was a sign he was right.

“Hello, dearie. Are ye hungry?” The Small Folk asked. She wore a pretty blue cap with a rolled rim and a daisy pinned to the side, and a dusty purple frock beneath a worn and stained apron. Her skin was the color of new grass after the first frost.

“I suppose that depends on what is in the stew,” Cypress countered.

Picky eating habits had been cruelly stamped out in her youth with the persistent threat of starvation. Still, Cypress preferred to at least know what wasinthe food she ate.

“Venison and root vegetables,” the Small Folk said with a smile.

Cypress nodded, having assumed as much by the aroma. “Sure, I’ll take a bowl, please.”

The Small Folk ladled out heaping scoops of the stew into a bowl, handing her a spoon as well. “When you’re done, just drop it over there, we’ll take care of the rest,” She said, pointingtoward a long table with a barrel of water sitting next to it and several clean bowls stacked on the surface.

Cypress accepted the bowl of stew from the Small Folk and nodded her thanks.

Before walking away, Cypress asked one more question. “So you… Do you all follow Torren?”

She couldn’t let the opportunity to learn more about her current companion pass. Anything she learned could be vital information.

“Oh, yes, dearie. Prince Torren will lead Faerie back to life.”

“Back to life? What does that mean?”

The cook shook her head and instead replied, “Go, enjoy your food, child,” while motioning Cypress away with a wave of her hand.

And so, without learning anything worthwhile, Cypress wandered away through the camp while sipping the broth of her stew, eating the finely chopped bits of venison stew meat that were cooked to an incredible softness. The burned, crackly, crisp edges of the meat led Cypress to believe it had been grilled before being added to the broth.

With every draught from the stew, it was almost as if the weariness from the road withered away, sloughing off of Cypress’s body in waves.

She almost wondered if there was magic in the stew. Perhaps being prepared by one of the Small Folk made the stew inherently magical.

As she wandered, Cypress took note of the conditions, how all of the Fair Folk seemed to have their place and had friendships across the camp.

Cypress wondered if anyone ever had toprovetheir loyalty to the Fair Folk Prince, like Caelith was fond of requesting.

While she lingered around the edges of camp, she heard only two more interrogations as other people entered the ringof willow trees, but the questions were different for each, and different from Torren’s.

Begrudgingly, Cypress had to admit that their security measures were quite thorough when it came to entry to the camp. And, Cypress doubted anyone could escape notice when the trees that they walked through were the best sentries for the job.

While she was walking through the camp, taking stock of Torren’s people, Cypress couldn’t help but notice how efficiently these people interacted, forming a cohesive group where every person was helped and respected.

The staff at the Keep, however, were almost like a carnivorous beast, where everyone was as much your adversary as they were a potential ally. Everyone on Caelith’s staff thought that way. The King’s favor was immensely coveted, and just about anyone would bend as far as Caelith wished to get ahead.

Here, Torren’s attention wasn’t coveted in the same fashion, but Cypress could tell his opinions and concerns were of the highest priority for the people of Faerie. Loyalty was born from love here, not from fear.

Cypress’s movements mimicked what she could see of Torren and the one he called Ellisar as they slowly walked through the camp.

Ellisar had an average build, similar to Torren. Though with one marked difference. The male had a set of iridescent wings between his shoulders, and they shimmered lightly in the dappled sunlight as they walked around the camp.

Everywhere the Prince went, he was greeted by smiles, often a clap on his back, and offers from their fires.

Toren wasloved andcherished in a way that neither Caelith nor Cade was.