Chapter 16: Lady Miss SongThe next day, Amber woke slowly, the soft Fey silks a gentle caress against her skin, the lingering scent of the rain still in the air. A knock came at her door; it was rapid and quick. The former barmaid jumps, and began quickly scrambling for her emerald dress.

  “O-one minute!” She hasn't slept like this in a long time, perhaps forever. The freedom of a full moon's rest, and the odd encounter with the Dame and her children had delighted but also exhausted her. The knocking came again more rapidly. “Hold on, hold on!” Amber scrambled to the door barely making sure she's at least modestly dressed enough for the keep’s proper halls. As she swung the door open, Donny stood there in their formal armor, ready to knock again.

  "Good morning, little one," Beldonna purred, her voice a low rumble that vibrated pleasantly in the quiet room. She gnced at Amber, a subtle assessment in her gaze. "You slept well, I trust?"

  Amber nodded, pulling the silks closer. "Like the dead, thank you, Donny." She hesitated, then asked, "What happens now? The Dame... she said she'd find a pce for me."

  Beldonna's expression remained stoic, but her ears twitched almost imperceptibly. "Indeed. You are to meet with Lady Ykizias, the Dame's Counselor. She handles all matters of staff and internal affairs, distinct from Commander Vale, who oversees our small militia. I, however, report directly to the Dame. Her Counsellor is... efficient. Direct. She values honesty and has little patience for pretense. Be forthright, Amber. Tell her what you know, what you wish to avoid. She will find a pce for you." BD offered a small, almost imperceptible nod of encouragement. "I must attend to my own duties now, but I will ensure you are escorted to her office."

  This was a new beginning, she told herself, trying to quell the familiar flutter of anxiety in her stomach. A chance to be something more than just a survivor.

  A quiet, unassuming Fey, a small, mushroom-capped brownie with surprisingly quick steps, led Amber through a byrinth of corridors to Lady Ykizias's office. It was a formal space, meticulously organized, devoid of the vibrant, organic chaos that characterized much of the Keep. Scrolls were neatly stacked, crystalline writing implements gleamed on a polished obsidian desk, and the air smelled faintly of parchment and something sharp, like distilled logic.

  Lady Ykizias sat behind the desk, her posture ramrod straight. She was a Satyr, with polished, dark hooves peeking from beneath impeccably tailored courtly silks, and small, elegant horns that spiraled gracefully from her dark, flowing hair. Her swarthy, coppery skin seemed to absorb the room's soft light, and her dark eyes, though currently focused with intense professionalism, held a depth that hinted at a vibrant, boisterous nature kept firmly in check. This was a being who drew a heavy, unyielding line between "work" and "py."

  "Lady Miss Song," Lady Ykizias stated, her voice crisp and clear, devoid of any preamble. The title, bestowed with a subtle, almost patronizing air, made Amber's ears ftten slightly, but she managed a polite nod. "Lady Beldonna has spoken of your... unique circumstances. And your desire to contribute to the Keep. I require a full accounting of your past experiences, to ascertain where your... talents... might best be utilized."

  Amber swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She began, her voice a little hesitant at first, then gaining a quiet strength as she recounted the stark realities of her life.

  "I was a dock worker," she started, the memory of the biting winds and heavy loads making her shoulders ache. "Nearly died more times than I can count, hauling crates, moving cargo. The work was brutal."

  Lady Ykizias made a precise note on a scroll. "And after that?"

  Amber hesitated. "I... I worked as a dancer." She didn't eborate, but the internal crification was immediate: a prostitute. A brothel, not really a dance hall. She shoved down the memory before she said too much, "Then I uh, I was a maid," she continued, pushing past the discomfort. "Cleaning tavern rooms. Endless grime, thankless bor." She grimaced at the memory. "And finally, a barmaid, I’ve worked for many different bars over a few years, they’re all about the same.”

  “So fickle, can you not stay in one pce for too long?” The counsellor questioned immediately,

  Because I turned into a monster and had to abandon everything over and over. “Human economy is terrible” Amber retorts, “I don’t know how any of them stay in business with how they waste things.”

  Lady Ykizias's pen scratched across the parchment. "And your preferences, Lady Miss Song? What duties would you prefer to avoid? I make no promises, but I’m no sve driver, I won’t force you to handle a bde if you won’t wield it with purpose.” She peered deeply into Amber’s eyes, trying to get a deeper feel of the small Lynanth before her.

  "Anything that involves cleaning, heavy lifting, or serving and preparing food.” Amber said with her words coming out with more force than she intended.

  “Do you have eyes on the court itself?” The satyr said, writing another thing, “Whisperer, courtier, perhaps a handmaiden of sorts? Are you a tailor?” Amber once again shook her head, “Well can you make things with your hands?” I hardly think my neckce counts. Amber once again shook her head, sinking back into the seat.

  Lady Ykizias leaned forward, her gaze sharp, assessing. "I see, may I read my assessment so far? I am not aiming to offend Lady Miss Song.” She waited for Amber’s permission, Ykizias polite even when being blunt as her horns. “You do not have the physique of a warrior, nor the polished mind of a schor. I think you may need a few extra meals before you can lift a modest stone, you look rail thin. You are a far cry from the bright young petal that Lady Beldonna described to me in glowing terms. I truly wonder what has gotten into her. You seem more the introspective curiosity that the Dame herself spoke of this morning. She said you had a unique perspective. A keen eye for observation, honed, perhaps, by your varied experiences." A flicker of an idea crossed the Satyr's face, a subtle shift in her otherwise composed features. "She proposed that you become a Guide within the Moonpetal Cradle."

  Amber's ears twitched. "Wait, what’s the Moonpetal Cradle, and what’s a Guide?” This sounds like a babysitter position.

  “Our keep itself is a small city of folk in and around its walls, and those who swear an Oath to one of the Dames often bring their families for protection into the Keep itself. As with any popuce, we must care for the young ones from any who serve the Dames, and the Court of Wanderlust as a whole. Thus, Moonpetal Cradle is our academy and rearing grounds for the young all who live here, and all who may pass through the North Star Gate.”

  "A... a guide?" she stammered, her profound self-doubt rearing its head. "My Lady, I can barely read, barely count, and know next to nothing about anything important," she might say, her voice tinged with the familiar insecurity. "I'm not sure I'm... enough of an authority for younglings. I doubt myself heavily in so many things. I’ve never even stepped foot in a schoolhouse; my mother home schooled me at our ranch.”

  Lady Ykizias cut her off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Nonsense, Lady Miss Song. Formal education is merely one path to knowledge. We value all perspectives. Your life has provided a different, perhaps uniquely valuable, kind of education." She rose from her desk, her movements swift and decisive, giving Amber no time to voice further objections. "Come. I will take you to the Moonpetal Cradle now. You are to observe the Sparklings. You will catch up quickly.”

  Lady Ykizias led Amber through a maze of corridors, the air growing warmer and sweeter as they approached the Moonpetal Cradle. It was a vibrant, sprawling space humming with the energy of young Fey. Tiny sprites flitted through glowing mobile-like structures, young treants toddled among soft, mossy mounds, and mischievous pixies giggled as they pyed tricks on each other. The air was alive with their ughter and squabbles, a symphony of youthful Ani'cora magic.

  Two other caretakers were present.

  One was a truly enormous Bugbear man, his shaggy fur a deep moss-green, with kind, crinkled eyes that seemed to miss nothing. This was Grandpa Stone, an old, retired adventurer and one of the Dame of Desires' first minions, whose booming voice could still carry across the Cradle, but whose movements were surprisingly gentle. He was currently encouraging a group of young tree-creatures to articute their grievances with the one that was tripping them. He was very well-spoken and clearly encouraged articute communication amongst the young ones.

  The other caretaker was Jay, a slender Fey, their skin like polished river stone and their hair a cascade of shimmering moonlight. Jay was a bard in service of the Dame of Avarice, currently engrossed in a thick, leather-bound tome, occasionally looking up to offer a quiet, insightful comment to a nearby child.

  Lady Ykizias offered a curt, almost imperceptible nod to the two caretakers, a gesture of acknowledgement rather than introduction. "Observe, Lady Miss Song," she murmured to Amber, then turned and departed, leaving Amber standing awkwardly at the edge of this vibrant chaos.

  Amber felt a familiar awkwardness settle over her. She was used to charming patrons, but these were colleagues, and she was clearly a surprise. She decided to start with the most approachable.

  "Hello," Amber purred, her voice soft, a genuine smile touching her muzzle as she approached Grandpa Stone. "I'm Amber. Lady Miss Song, I suppose. Lady Ykizias just...uh, dropped me off. I'm to be a guide here, I suppose?" She offered a small, polite bow, a gesture she'd learned from observing the more refined patrons at the Buck, feeling a little foolish but hoping it conveyed respect.

  Grandpa Stone's kind eyes crinkled further, and a low, rumbling chuckle vibrated through his massive chest. "Ah, Lady Miss Song! A pleasure indeed! Welcome to the Moonpetal Cradle. No warning, eh? Typical of Lady Ykizias's efficiency. She does like to keep us on our toes." He gestured with a rge, gentle hand towards the frolicking children. "Do not let their energy overwhelm you. Patience, and a clear voice, are our greatest tools here. And a willingness to truly listen to their burgeoning thoughts."

  Amber then turned to Jay, who had looked up from their book, their shimmering eyes narrowed slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible tilt of their head. "And you must be Jay," Amber said, trying for a friendly, open tone, though she felt a prickle of unease under their scrutiny. "I'm Amber. I guess Lady Miss Song, now?"

  Jay's gaze swept over Amber, lingering for a moment on her simple Fey silks, then back to their book, a clear dismissal that still felt like a challenge. "That’s for the kids. I’ll call you Amber," they repeated, their voice a soft, melodic hum that held a curious, almost analytical quality, barely looking up. "Yes. I heard... something was coming. A new face. From the mortal realm, I believe. I trust you understand the delicate nature of our Sparklings. They are not human children. Their wonders are far more intricate. Do try not to break anything." Jay's tone was pleasant enough, but the underlying implication was clear: You're an outsider, inexperienced, and likely to cause problems. They then returned their attention to their book, a subtle, yet undeniable, wall erected between them. Not everyone is charmed by me, so it seems. She processed internally.

  Amber, initially hesitant, found herself drawn into the scene. Her past experiences with human children were limited, but her innate empathy and keen observation skills, honed from years of reading people in taverns, kicked in. She noticed the subtle dynamics, the budding personalities, the quiet moments of joy, and the fleeting sparks of conflict.

  Her gaze fell upon a smaller, shyer Sparkling, a nascent flower-fey with petals the color of dawn, huddled near a shimmering fountain. Two boisterous, older Sparklings, young goblins with mischievous grins, were circling her, teasing her about her wilting petals, perhaps even hiding a cherished leaf she had found. It was gentle, childish cruelty, but the little flower-fey's shoulders drooped, and her petals seemed to dim further.

  Without explicit instruction, Amber felt a familiar pang of protectiveness. It was the same feeling she'd had for Vay, for the vulnerable patrons in the tavern, but purer here, untainted by the need to protect herself. She approached the children calmly, her presence unexpected. She didn't scold, but used her gentle demeanor and a pyful distraction. "Hello there, little ones," Amber purred, her voice soft and reassuring. "What's all this excitement about? It looks like our friend here might need a hand with that." She gestured subtly towards the hidden leaf. "I'm Lady Miss Song, by the way. It's a pleasure to meet such... spirited Sparklings."

  The older Sparklings, surprised by this new, gentle adult who didn't immediately scold them, paused their antics, their mischief momentarily forgotten. The smaller flower-fey looked up at Amber with wide, trusting eyes, her petals slowly beginning to unfurl again. The conflict subsided, repced by a quiet curiosity from the younglings.

  A faint scent of expensive jasmine and something sharp, like polished steel, cut through the sweet, earthy air of the Cradle. Amber felt the prickle of eyes on her back and instinctively drew her posture tighter, the warmth of the moment vanishing.

  Hidden slightly in the archway of a side corridor, standing perfectly still, was a tall slender fey form of shifting beauty. Lily, the First Maiden of Desire, was dressed in shimmering silver court silks, her bck hair pulled back so tightly it emphasized the severe beauty of her face, and her eyes—the color of chipped ice—were fixed entirely on Amber. She hadn't seen the conflict or the resolution, only the sight of the Lynanthi woman kneeling on the mossy ground, surrounded by young Fey.

  Lily took a single, deliberate step into the light, her lips curling into a smile that never reached her cold eyes. "Such tenderness, Lady Miss Song," she purred, her voice carrying a brittle, high-court chime that seemed utterly alien in the nursery. "It is truly inspiring to witness such an immediate bond. Mother will be delighted to hear how quickly The Stray is becoming attached to her new purpose."

  The word stray hung in the air, a poisonous barb disguised as a compliment. Lily gave a final, slow assessment of Amber, then turned on her heel and glided away before Amber could respond, the sound of her expensive slippers fading quickly. Amber shivered, the cold sinking into her bones. She hadn't been watched by a colleague; she had been observed by another set of eyes and ears that belonged to the Dame herself. That moment of pure, uncalcuted connection was now a new piece for the Monarch to exploit - she tried her best to shove that thought aside for now.

  Lady Ykizias, who had been observing from a discreet distance, stepped forward. Her sharp eyes assessed Amber's interaction. She found Amber's approach effective and her innate ability to connect with the younglings undeniable. A faint, almost imperceptible shift occurred in her demeanor, a flicker of something beyond pure professionalism, hinting at the charming people-person beneath the stern exterior. (Amber couldn't tell if Ykizias had noticed Lily's brief, condemning presence, which only added to her growing anxiety.)

  "Very well, Lady Miss Song," Lady Ykizias stated, her voice still crisp, but with a subtle underlying warmth. "Your approach to the Sparklings is quite natural, a decent fit for this role. You have proven your keen eye for the delicate bance of young souls. Come with me and we will secure your position with a contract, and with it your quarters.”

  “I’ve got some work to do, but I’ll be back, ok everyone?” Amber said to the group of small fey that had crowded around her. With a little wave she stood up and followed the short, swarthy woman’s clopping hooves down the hall back towards her office. Quickly catching up with Lady Ykizias already scribbling on parchment. “Thank you so much for the opportunity.”

  “I should be thanking you,” the Satyr said as she hops up into her padded chair again. Laying out the contract she finished on the walk back. “Grandpa is slowing down and Jay doesn’t quite have the heart for it anymore. I think you’ll be a refreshing addition to the bouquet. Sign here and you will have a home in Compass Keep, and a purpose of integrity as a Guide.” Purpose, integrity… Those words rang in her head like awful bells of things she felt like she had so little of in her life.

  Taking the Quill, Amber writes what she can manage of her signature, rgely writing the initials ARS in a light fancy script. “I accept. I hardly think I’m the woman for the job but…this feels better than what I’ve ever had a chance to do before.” She pyed with the hem of her dress, fraying it a bit with her cws before addressing Lady Ykizias directly,” So I truly thank you for believing in me, I will do my best.”

  “HUZZAH!” The small swarthy woman shouted out before covering her mouth, “Apologies for that pre-emptive celebration. I shall save that for when my time is my own, thank you Lady Miss Song. I will send an escort after supper to show you to your new quarters. For now, go join your colleagues in the Cradle. Welcome aboard Lady Miss Song.” Amber snickered, seeing a bit of rowdiness come out of that stuff demeanor, she felt as if she will get along with her new superior, for once. With one final shake of the hand, the deal was set, and Deep within, she felt the hole inside of her close a little more, and the beast within that pit of despair crying out for release.