I was just finished nursing the babies when Perhita, my new maid, entered the room. She looked frantic, and as I handed (child) back to the nanny, Perhita rushed up to my side.
“Lady Ember, I’m so sorry, but I have bad news.”
Bad news wasn’t exactly on my list of things I wanted to hear. The list of things that had already gone wrong since morning was a mile long. Sometimes I just wanted to pack it all up and move back to Seattle. While I had grown to love Annwyn, there were days where I longed for the hustle and bustle of the city streets rather than the clanks and clangs of castle life. Herne had done his best to make his world feel as close to my world as possible, but unfortunately, there were some things impossible to replicate.
“What’s happened now?”
“I’m so sorry, but Lord Rumblebutt is sick.” Perhita looked ready to jump out of the way. I had a hard time understanding the servants and how they feared me—even though they seemed to like working for me—but my advisors had explained it to me this way: I was now a goddess. I could have the servants killed with a flick of one finger. And while the majority of the gods did their best to respect mortals, there were plenty who didn’t. The realization that I held lives so easily in my hands had finally sank in, and I tried my best to remember that fear and act accordingly.
Her news, however, hit me in the gut. Mr. Rumblebutt had been my companion for a number of years, and that he was sick threw me into a cold sweat. Cats might be considered property to some, but he was part of my family, my first child—and while his three sisters were Fae goddesses, that didn’t lessen my love for him.
“Oh no, where is he?” I turned to Perhita, fear making me sweat.
“He’s in your bedroom, m’lady.” Perhita led me down the hall of our private chambers toward the bedroom. As we approached the doors leading into my bedroom—joined by a sitting room to Herne’s quarters—I rushed in front of her and threw open the doors, running over to the bed. There, Sefeil, the castle veterinarian who looked after all the royal animals, was examining my huge floof of a Norwegian Forest cat. As I approached, he looked up.
“Lady Ember, I’m glad you’re here.” He stood. Willowy and tall, he was an Elf, like most of the healers, and he was probably several thousand years old.
“How is he? What’s wrong?” I knelt on the bed beside my beloved cat. Mr. Rumblebutt had been with me for what…over eight years? Even though I’d only been a goddess for about a year, time was already starting to grow a little fuzzy. Herne had warned me it would. It wasn’t like I’d forget my life before, but as the years rolled by and turned into decades and then centuries, events would run together more. Those born to godhood tracked time better than those who shifted over from being mortal.
“He’ll be okay, but he’s definitely under the weather.” Sefeil paused, then added, “May I speak freely, your Ladyship?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“You might want to think about the fact that your furry companion here is mortal, my Lady. One day…” He paused.
I stared at him, the realization dawning on me that cats lived such a short time compared to mortals as it was. Compared to the gods…
“Thank you, Sefeil. I’ll think about it. I might have a few questions for you soon, so don’t go on any extended trips for a while, please.”
“Of course, Lady Ember. I’ll just give Lord Rumblebutt his medicine now, and then I’ll return tonight to give him the rest.” After coaxing Mr. Rumblebutt to lick up the turkey-flavored liquid, Sefeil bowed and left our quarters.
Read Part 2 next month