Book 4: Replace Her When the Time Comes

Isla

Hestia looks more like a mythical creature than a woman to me–tall and lean with a shallow face that makes her look much older than she is. I can’t deny that she’s one hell of a head housekeeper, but keeping her at arm’s length has seemed appropriate.

Trinity hired her.

Hestia pours tea into a dainty china cup and sets it in front of me in the informal sitting room.

“Cream and sugar?”

“Yes, thank you,” I say, watching the woman’s face as she pours cream into my cup. Her fingers are long and narrow, and I can tell just by her skin that she must have spent time working outside when she was younger.

Strange. Normally head housekeepers come from more affluent backgrounds within their packs, falling in line with ladies maids and private governesses for the royal pups.

“I wanted to begin by thanking you for your service during the battle,” I say, raising the cup to my lips. The tea smells sweet, with a hint of spice, and tast