Present Time
Yelena gritted her teeth and set out to hunt down the Fae. A great number were in the main hall before the fire, regarding the tables and bench seating as if both were unknown to them. She saw one touch the tabletop.
“It is sticky,” the woman remarked with a snigger in High Fae.
“Beeswax,” Yelena said crisply, startling them. “Yes,” Yelena smiled savagely. “I speak Fae, all five dialects. Where is your leader, Diersen?”
“My Lady,” the man to who the woman’s snide comment had been delivered bowed low. “He took his aide to the study.”
“F-k,” Yelena muttered as she turned. She strode across the hall and to the left. The door to her father’s study stood open, and Diersen had lit the beeswax candles. She blew them out as she entered, causing him and his aide to loo
