[center]Bodil winced a bit at the echo of her voice. After all who knew what ghastly things were standing guard in the shadows of this place. Not that this particular monarch looked like he needed much protecting. Heck, people probably needing guarding [i]from[/i] him. He made a motion for her to follow and so she did, more with worry about what could happen should she fall behind. Who knew what was lurking about. After all, it wasn't as if she were particularly obedient, as was previously established. Her actions stemmed more from her gut instincts and emotions, rather than logic and reasoning. 

The silver clasp holding the king's hair winked at her ominously, drawing her from her contemplations. 'Be of use' what did that even mean? She wasn't going to 'be of use' to anyone, especially not Fox and most certainly not even King. A bit suspicious, Bodil wrapped her arms around herself as she followed him three paces behind. Not too close, not too far away. She might have touched the Fox on accident, letting her guard down enough to mistake him for fractionally human-like, but she wasn't going to give her self even the slightest hint of chance around this king. Touching him probably turned humans into stone or ash or shadows or fall leaves or something.  

"Ah, 'burdensome tasks'..." she scoffed under her breath, mumbling like a rebellious adolescent on a school trip, "So 'burdensome' to drink, make merry, and torment humans all day..." He probably heard it, but she could have said worse. If anything, she at least didn't interrupt. She was too wary of him to be overtly rude or ostentatious. She watched the odd firefly-like orb lights that glowed like faint heartbeats in the walls. 

He said he didn't need to make an example of her. Small mercies. Not that she let her hopes up. Something equal awful was probably in store for her. A dance in white hot iron shoes to entertain Fae, a nightly dream date of torture from a Fox with a grudge, or even being handed to Fae kitchens to place some hint of order on a messy and disastrous cooking area. The list went on and on in her head. Each more horrible than the last. After all, these Fae didn't seem to do much work at all. At least not any she had seen. The reconstruction of the ruins was as fruitful as trying to fist fight the ocean. 

Bodil decided it probably wise not to comment on the fox bit of information to his grand dasterly's sentences. She had enough common sense to hold her tongue for the king of horrors at least. Instead, she continued to look around, following three paces behind him, glancing at him warily from time to time. Each room that passed was as odd and alien as the last. A gothic bedroom littered with shining weaponry, some of which she couldn't even name. A dressing room with gems and jewels and silks and finery messily slumped and forgot in piles on every surface. A room of just curtains hiding who knew what. Odder and odder it all got. Crystal decor with ruby and diamond eyes inside blinking about. Feathers of all kind of birds that couldn't possibly exist, like purple and black peacocks' feathers or yellow and red-spotted owls' feathers. Ribbons that weren't ribbons, connecting from one solid surface through the other, like glimmering wires or vines that just ghostly pasted through soild stone. It was all beautiful yet very odd. And very, very messy. Didn't they have maids in this place? Honestly, there was no way anyone would ever be able to find anything at all in a magical fantasy-object slopheap like these rooms. 

Following the Falk up a spiral walking-way, they entered a library. Bodil watched as the dark king sauntered through the still room, dust swirling like silk tresses behind him. Even the library was a mess. She didn't dare touch anything, lest it fall apart or have tiny alien crawly-things skitter out from it. Not to mention, she'd never stop sneezing if she ever got started in a place like this. Though much like the other rooms she had seen glimpses of, this one had an otherworldly beauty to it too. There was so much to look at. The multicolored covers the glowed in the soft living light. The sheen of the desk as it huddled away in its alcove, papers and jewel-feathered quills littering its surface. The slouching furniture, of exquisite craftsmanship, lazing about. The clamor of ages came to a disjointed pinnacle in this too-still room. Strange music haunted about as Bodil frowned in confusion. It was all lovely yes, sure, but why were they here? And where was a dust rag when you needed it? Whoever the maids were they were doing a horrible job. Probably just Fae work ethic.

"Looking for anything in particular?" she asked a bit confused but still as softly bristled and suspicious as ever. Maybe a magic book to make her mute or a summoning alarm to ward her with so she couldn't ever run away. Though she was still a bit unclear on whether she was valuable or worthless in this world (she was betting on worthless), the Fae seemed to do plenty of unnecessary things no matter the worth of the object. Kill one human, save the other. Bodil rubbed her forehead and looked around again, watching for creep-crawlies and any shadwos big enough to hide beastly torture guards.[/center]