Chapter 256 What Cookies?

"Firion, is that you?" called his wife, Margaretta.

"Yes, dear. I brought a dinner guest. I hope you don't mind," he called back, shutting the door behind Aella with a small smile.

"Of course, I don't mind! I love it when you bring guests over for supper!" she exclaimed with a wide smile as she came around the corner wearing an apron. Her smile wilted noticeably when she spotted Aella. "Your Majesty!"

Aella teleported over to her, taking the hot baking dish from her as she attempted to bow, saving it from being dumped all over the floor.

"Nice save, Aella," chuckled Firion, turning to hang his coat on the coat rack by the door. "Dear, she came to question me about some things concerning my past. I didn't want to be late to supper, so I invited her to come along."

"Well, I don't see why we can't feed her. It's the polite thing to do. As long as none of the questions are inappropriate in front of our daughter?" she asked, raising an eyebrow towards Firion.

"I'm sure she can keep the questions to an appropriate content," he purred, wrapping his arms around her and making her blush as he kissed her cheek. "Where is our beautiful little flower?"

"She's washing her hands. We were playing with clay and she made quite a mess. Perhaps you could rest in the study while I finish setting the table? It shouldn't take long," she said, sliding out of his arms and hurrying back to the kitchen, not even noticing she left the dish still in Aella's hands.

"You have quite a way with her," said Aella, setting the dish down on the place holder on the table as he motioned for her to follow him into the study.

"I know the right buttons to push and how far to push them," he said quietly, shutting the door behind her as she paused to look around.

"Does Bridgette know you have this many books?" asked Aella, looking around at the bookshelves that stretched to the ceiling.

"She's actually the one who gave them to me," he said smugly, sitting in his chair. "I believe her exact words were, 'These should keep you and your daughter out of trouble with your wife'."

Aella nodded, and moved over to the chair that was obviously for her to sit in and turned to him. "What made you into such a killer?"

"Ah, more questions of that nature? I suppose we should get them out of the way before supper. Well, I believe it had something to do with the fact my father wanted me to become a killer. He hired some rather interesting individuals to train me from a very young age. My mother didn't care for them, but she didn't have a say in the matter for very long. She was my first target."

"That's messed up," said Aella, shaking her head. "I'm sorry you went through that."

"Yes, well, if your apology could undo things, I would appreciate it, however, I rather like the way things have worked out. I have a doting wife who will be having another child soon, a daughter who is already a wonder in her training, and an entire army of assassins to do my bidding, not to mention one of the best houses in the realm to live in."

Aella glanced out the single window in the room to see fish the size of lions swimming in the sky and nodded. He had a point, she just hated that it had to be such a depressing road to get here.

"Your daughter isn't going to have to go through the same training you did, is she?" she asked, as a sudden thought occurred to her.

"You mean, am I going to make her kill her own mother? No. I'm not my father."

"Well, that's a relief," nodded Aella. She didn't think he would stoop to that, but she wanted to make sure. "Does your daughter know that you were once in the pits?"

"She's still pretty young, so she hasn't learned all of the history of her people, but yes, she has heard that I spent time in a bad place. She also knows that you're the reason I have such a wonderful job."

"How old is she?" asked Aella trying to remember how many years had passed.

"She's about to turn 3," said Firion, turning to his left and moving a small table to the side. A tiny girl gazed up at him with a wide grin and crawled out from behind the table. She was dressed in a completely black skin-tight outfit, and had her hair pulled back into a pony-tail.

"How did you know I was there?" she asked, crawling into his lap.

"The door wasn't locked, I could see the table wasn't flush against the wall, and you left your skirt in my chair," he said with a grin, holding up a frilly skirt with large black flowers all over it.

"Oh, I forgot about that," she said, taking the skirt and pulling it on, while still in his lap. Once she had on the skirt, the black outfit didn't seem quite so menacing.

"How did you unlock my door?" he asked, curiously, tugging on her pony tail gently.

"I had Stonso open it for me. He didn't want to, but I told him I saw him, which meant he had to do something for me." She pantomimed pointing her finger at someone and shaking it with each word, as if she had actually done that with this Stonso person.

"That's true. If you see any of the assassins, you get to order them around. Good job. How did you see him?"

"He was peeking on momma in the bath. I knew he wasn't supposed to, so I threw my knife at him. He caught it though." She sighed and pulled out a thin little dagger that was tucked up her sleeve before shoving it back out of sight.

"He was, was he?" mused Firion. "Show me how you threw your knife."

She jumped up from his lap, and scurried over to the middle of the room where she pulled out the knife and flicked it towards the bookshelf. It hid hard against the shelf, but didn't stick. She sighed and went to pick it up. "He caught it though."

"I see why. You will need to practice more if you don't want someone to know you are pulling out a knife. I could hear that all the way over here."

"Really? But how?"

"You rubbed against your shirt with your fingers."

"What?" she looked at her shirt and then at her hand as if it had betrayed her.

"Don't worry about it right now. Put your dagger away before your mother comes, so we can go eat supper."

"Ok. Supper isn't going to be that good, though. She burnt it while in the bath."

"You don't tease your momma about her cooking. She's carrying your sibling inside of her, and those baths are the only time she can relax," said Firion.

The little girl had just slid her knife back up her sleeve when there was a soft knock at the door.

"Firion? Supper's ready. Do you have Bree? I can't find her."

"Yes, she was showing us some of her moves," said Firion, smiling at the little girl.

Bree smiled back at him, striking a pose as her mother opened the door. Aella couldn't believe she could be so good at hiding what was going on from her mother at her age.

"Did you wash your hands?" asked Margaretta, frowning slightly as if she knew something was up, but wasn't sure what.

"Yes, momma. Can I have some pie?" asked the little girl, dancing up to her mother with wide eyes.

"How did you know I was making a pie?" asked her mother, turning to go back to the kitchen.

"I can smell the cherries on you!"

"Cherries?" laughed Margaretta.

"Ah, I almost forgot," Firion said, turning back to Aella as the others disappeared. "The Fairy Queen bids you congratulations on the birth of your daughter. She promises to keep her ninjas away from her, as long as you bring her cookies. What kind of cookies do you think she is wanting?"

Aella froze as she looked at the curious look on Firion's face.

"What do you mean?" she asked softly.

"Well, the queen sent some of her ninjas to investigate things after you were there last with those wonderful kids. I informed her that I had assassins to deal with her ninjas if she caused trouble, and it has developed into a beautiful friendship. Though I do imagine the cost of keeping your daughter safe is pretty low. I would send her more than just cookies to keep her content, though I hear chocolate is a bad idea."

"Don't worry, I'll send her cookies," sighed Aella. She didn't even ask why or how the queen had found out already, not to mention how Firion managed to talk to her. Those fairies were turning out to be quite a headache.