Little Moon

Chapter One: The Pin

The back hall was wet. It always was.

I carried a basket of wet cloths on my hip. The cloths were for the rich wolves. They did not want to smell like the kitchen. That was my job. Carry clean. Stay small. Keep walking.

Then the air changed.

I heard boots over my head. Too many boots. Then I smelled blood.

Not kitchen blood. The King’s blood.

My wolf sat up inside me. She wanted to run up the stairs. I wanted to run to the wash room. A girl like me did not go to the King’s rooms at night. Girls who did that lost their work. Sometimes they lost more than work.

I went up the stairs anyway.

The little door in his wall was tight. I pushed through it. The big door was full of men in dark clothes. Kenelm Harrow was on one knee in the middle of the room. A knife was in his side. Three men stood close to him. They had oil on their skin. I could barely smell them.

I still smelled one wrong thing under the oil. Flowers. Cold flowers. The kind of smell that never came into the wash room.

“Linnet,” he said.

He said my name like he needed it.

“Hold still,” I said.

I threw a wet cloth over his shoulder. I put my shoulder under his arm. He was tall and heavy. Blood ran into the cloth fast. The wet cloth hid most of his smell. For a short time, a hurt King could smell like washing.

“The tunnel,” I said. “Now.”

He came with me. He was the King. He still listened to me. Hurt men do that.

We fell into the dark hall under the house. I knew that hall. I washed it every morning. The stones were cold. Water dropped somewhere. I pushed him to the wall. I put both hands on the cut.

“Please do not die here,” I said. “This is where I wash the sheets.”

His mouth moved. It looked like a smile, but it hurt him. “I will try.”

“Look at me.”

He looked at me. His eyes were brown with a little gold. His breath was warm on my face. I could smell iron. I could smell him.

“You should not have come,” he said.

“I know.”

“Say my name.”

“Kenelm.”

A fourth man dropped into the mouth of the tunnel. I had seen three in the room. I had missed one. My wolf made a low sound in my chest.

Kenelm moved fast. The hurt did not stop him. His hand found the man’s throat. The knife slid away on the wet floor. Then the tunnel was quiet. It was only us, and the water, and the man on the ground.

That was when I saw the pin.

It was small and silver. It sat on the dead man’s collar. It was shaped like a flower. Not a wild flower. A rich flower. The kind a lady pins on a man she has paid.

Kenelm saw me look at it.

He took the pin off with two fingers. He shut it in his fist. When he looked at me again, he was not only a hurt man. He was the King. He was choosing what people would be allowed to know.

“You saw nothing,” he said.

“I saw her flower.”

“You saw nothing, Linnet.”

He said my name soft. It did something to my legs that I did not like. I kept my hands on his side.

“If I saw nothing,” I said, “why is it in your hand?”

He put his head against my head. The tunnel felt smaller.

“Little moon.” He said it quiet, only for me. “Say you saw nothing.”

“I am not a child.”

“I know you are not.” His thumb left a bit of blood at the side of my mouth. He left it there. “I am trying to keep you alive. That is not the same as treating you like a baby. If you walk out of here and say that name, you may not walk far.”

“And if I keep the secret?”

“Then you go back to your room. You wash. You live.” His eyes went more gold, then back. “Do you want the other job? Do you want to be the girl who can name that pin?”

I hated him a little. I also wanted his mouth. Both things were true.

“I saw nothing,” I said.

He kissed me.

The first part of the kiss was hard. It said thank you. It said do not die. It said I see you. I tasted blood. I should have turned my face away. I did not.

Then the kiss went slow. His hand found the back of my hair. It was damp from work. I made a small sound. I wished I had not. He took the sound into his mouth. For a short time the dark hall was only heat, wet cloth, and the fact that I had climbed those stairs.

He stopped first.

“No one touches you,” he said. “Do you hear me?”

I heard the words. I also saw the pin in his fist.

“Yes, Alpha.”

His eyes flashed. “Kenelm. When we are like this, you say Kenelm.”

“Kenelm.”

He shut his eyes as if my saying it hurt. “Go to your room. Wash your hands. If Dorcas asks, you heard the bell. You hid by the wash pots. You do not talk about a tunnel. You do not talk about a pin.”

“And you?”

“I will find out who sent four men into my room.” He stood off the wall and hissed when the cut woke up. “If I send for you before morning, you come. If I do not, you stay in your room and you stay alive. That is an order from your King.”

“You are welcome,” I said.

His mouth moved again, smaller. “Go, Linnet.”

I went.

The dark hall kept the secret. My dress stuck to my skin. His smell sat on me, under soap I had not used yet. My wolf walked in circles inside me. She would not lie down.

Dorcas would smell him on me. I knew that already. I would tell her the bell story. She would look at my mouth and know I was lying.

I got to my door with the basket still on my arm. It looked silly now. My room was small. A bed. A peg. A bowl of water.

I set the basket down. I listened.

Up in the clean hall, men called his name too late. Under that, I heard a woman laugh. It was a soft laugh. It did not belong on a night with so much blood.

I opened my door a little. I looked toward the better stairs.

Idony Flint stood in the good light. Her hands were empty. Her face was sad in a pretty way. She had silver on her neck. Her hair was pale and neat. She looked like a woman who had only come to watch.

My wolf showed her teeth.

The pin in Kenelm’s hand was her flower. The King who had just kissed me had told me to forget it. I shut the door.

My hands were still red. I poured water on them. The water turned pink. I told myself it was only blood. I told myself I would sleep. I told myself a King did not send for a wash girl before morning.

Sleep did not come.

A boy stopped outside my door before the sky turned grey. He said my name like a call to work.

“Croft. He wants you.”

I looked at my hands. I looked

at my wet dress. I felt his kiss on my mouth.

Then I stood up.

The night had already shown me what happened when I stayed where I was safe.