The Lost Fae (The Twisted Crown #3) - A.K. Koonce Page 0,45

the youthful self I remember seeing last night! When before she was in mid to late twenties, she now looks like a young teenager. Her gown is even cinched in closer to her much smaller waist

"You've finally made it for breakfast! Oh good, I was worried you would sleep the entire day away. Please, help yourself to a seat and to our meal." She waves her slight hand at the trays and bowls of food.

I turn to Lincoln, hoping for some sort of reaction. Any recognition that Anastasia doesn't quite look the same. It's the elephant in the room that everyone is already sidestepping. Lincoln places his hand on the small of my back and ushers me forward without a word, all while keeping his cool and confident expression. Though I try, the look of shock and intrigue must be written all over my face.

Close your mouth and sit down. I see it.

There it is. I force my lips back together giving the group a slight smile as I let Lincoln pull out a shaky wooden chair for me. Scanning the food, I find a tray of biscuits, bowls of fruit, a thick pot of oatmeal, and an even larger cut of ham. I have to wonder if the food is safe to eat. The pirates could always be plotting and planning to poison me to keep me from using the knowledge that I have.

I look up as I pull the seat underneath me and look back into Captain Beatrice's dark brown eyes. She doesn't smile back at me, her mouth is pulled in a pressed straight line. Even Johanna, sitting next to her is totally still as she watches me right back. Her hand is bawled into a fist on top the table. If we're not careful, I'm sure the pirates would be more than content with an all-out brawl breaking out right now.

"Is there...I seem to be feeling some tension. Is everything all right?" Anastasia quips.

"Everything is quite fine." Lincoln smiles politely looking between Captain Beatrice's glare and mine with mock confusion. Good job, Ziko. Let them think I've told you nothing. Maybe that will set them at ease. "Everything is good, right?" He adjusts his chair under himself pointing the question at me.

"Yes!" I straighten. "Everything is wonderful. Sorry, I wasn't expecting the full spread for breakfast this morning." I motion to the food on the table and the entirety of the crew crowded in the mismatching chairs.

"Very well. Please, help yourself," the queen repeats.

I lean forward in my seat, reaching for the plate of biscuits. Lincoln moves, intertwining his fingers with my outstretched hand. I pause.

"Allow me." He dips his head.

Reluctantly, I pull my hand away. Maybe he knows what's poisoned...

Or maybe he wants to do something nice for you... Lincoln interjects.

I bite down on my lip and fold my hands patiently into my lap. Or that. I wonder when the day will arrive that I won't be surprised by Lincoln trying to take care of me.

The conversation around us picks up again in a quiet hum of pointed whispers. I'm sure the pirates are well aware that we can hear everything they say, they just don't happen to care. Or the entire point is for us to listen in at every mean insult they hurl at us.

And for a brief moment, I thought we could be friends.

Lincoln sets down my plate, the china just as colorful as the home, the meal a small variety of options. I wait for him to make his plate and sit back into his seat before I pick up my fork and eat. Many of the humans were eating well before we had arrived, and their plates dwindle down to nothing in a matter of minutes.

Anastasia sits at the head of the table, sipping a coffee from her small cup. Her eyes dart between me and Lincoln before she smiles and looks over the rest of the crew. Does she think no one will notice her sudden youth? That we would just accept that she looks years younger overnight?

The question sits on the edge of my tongue, putting pressure behind my lips. I stuff a large bite of biscuit in to discourage the urge. There are too many people milling about. We have to wait for them to leave.

And they do.

One by one as the pirates finish, they leave their plates behind and escort themselves out of the room. Lincoln and I take our time eating, counting down the chairs