Trickster's Queen - Weebly

Aly knew she'd get nowhere if she argued. Instead,
keeping an eye on Taybur, she reached out and took
Spot. “It's warm,” she said with surprise, as if she'd
never seen one before. Holding Spot up to her face, she
spoke to it as if she might a very small child as she
asked, “Now, confess, little fellow. What were you
doing in the king's bedroom?”
Spot looked at her, or at least, the position of its
head-blob showed that it looked at her. It remembered
this part of its instructions, that it was to act as if it had
never seen or heard Aly before. “Secret,” it told her.
She looked up at Taybur, still acting the part of an
ordinary maid. “Can't His Majesty keep it? It seems
harmless enough.” She gave him a shy smile.
He grimaced. “Because I work very hard to keep
those rooms like a proper child's home, and because he
deserves a place where he can be himself with harm or
advantage to no one but himself. Because I think
someone should be able to cry himself to sleep in
privacy.”