Spinning away from Jesh, I fought a snort as my hair whacked him in the chest again before I strode toward the kitchen.
The fae would probably turn me down when I asked them to teach me, but it couldn’t hurt to ask, could it? Namir was the king, and whether or not he was a miserable bastard, he wouldn’t let them attack me. And even if they did, my shadowed monster would fight back, harder.
There seemed to be some kind of a line to get food, so I fell into place at the back of it, waiting until the line moved closer to the fae. I didn’t grab a plate for myself—I wanted to cook food on my own, not eat theirs.
“Excuse me?” I called out, as I neared one of the fae cooking. The man glanced up at me, his expression one of surprise. “Excuse me,” I called again, remaining in place even as the rest of the line continued moving.
He pointed to himself, and I nodded vigorously.
Setting down the huge bowl he was stirring something in, he crossed the distance between us and stopped behind the countertop separating us, resting his large hands on the marbled stone.
“Can you teach me to cook?” I asked him.
He blinked.
Shit.
He didn’t want to teach me.
I shouldn’t have asked.
My stomach clenched a bit. “It’s alright if you can’t. I know my magic’s not well controlled, and most people are probably a bit afraid of me. I… uh…” I stepped back. “Sorry.”
The room grew silent, everyone stilling.
Stars.
They were all staring at me, weren’t they?
My magic gathered in my stomach, and I tried frantically to shove it down, to calm it.
I should never have—
“What the fuck is going on here?” Namir’s snarl made me jump, but his hand landed on my shoulder, and my magic dissolved in my abdomen. He had my damned shadows practically trained.
“Nothing,” I said stiffly.
“You left me in bed alone, for nothing?” His growl made my throat swell a bit.
What was I supposed to say?
Everyone was still staring at us.
“Do you even have food?” He turned, and must’ve noticed Jesh sitting nearby, because he snarled at his friend, “Why has she not been fed?”
I scowled at the way he spoke about me like I was incapable of taking care of myself.
“She didn’t come looking for food. She wants to learn how to cook,” Jesh drawled.
There was a beat of silence.
Namir finally sighed, “Dammit. Sorry, everyone. I’ll work on controlling my temper.”
Snorts went around the room; apparently it was common knowledge that the king was a grumpy asshole in the morning.
He tugged me backward just a bit, and the food line resumed its motion as he spun me around to face him.
I glared at him. “I was handling it.”