She was on her feet with Eamon far enough behind her that she, or maybe he, was out of reach. Her tricolored eyes sparked like lightning behind gray clouds. The storm isn’t overhead, but it’s coming.
“I will not be laughed at, Meredith, not by anyone.” Her voice had crawled down into that low purr that should have meant sex but usually meant torment for someone.
I managed to say, “You are the least vanilla person I know, Auntie Andais; you are anti-vanilla, Auntie Vanilla, get it?”
Rhys gave a small snort as he tried not to laugh. Even Mistral made a small noise; only Doyle stayed impervious to my dangerous silliness.
“No,” she said coldly, “I do not ‘get it.’”
Guards spilled into the room, some sidhe and some Red Caps. They had begun to train together, working on battle strategies that played to their mixed strengths. The goblins had fought like shock troops for the Unseelie sidhe for centuries, but never shoulder to shoulder with them. Goblins had been used as cannon fodder, never truly as another warrior to fight beside. Now they spread out in front of us, sidhe and goblin, side by side. They stacked themselves around us in a move that was obviously practiced, making themselves a shield of flesh between their “queen” and her “kings.” I hated that they might have to sacrifice themselves for us, but that was what it meant to be bodyguards, especially royal guards. Once it had been Doyle and the rest who were the sacrifice for Andais, and the female guards in front of me scattered among the men had been expected to do the same for Prince Cel.
“I allowed you to flee to the Western Lands and my niece’s more tender care, but do not let it go to your heads, my guards. None of you are would-be kings. If I call you back to the court, you are oath-bound to answer and return to me.” I couldn’t see her through the bodies of our guards, but hearing the tone was enough to steal away the last bit of my laughter, even with happy tears still wet on my face.
Galen took my hand in his; he looked grim. Doyle, Mistral, and Rhys had all moved up around my chair, but they were still behind the wall of guards. In a real battle we might lead from the front, but in moments like this princes and kings did not stand in front of their bodyguards. I had spent months learning this lesson as I watched the men I loved risk themselves again and again to keep me and the unborn children safe. Now, they were having to learn the lesson. I looked at my three warriors standing so certain, so ready, and hidden from the threat. I knew that it would chafe on them more than it had on me, because a year ago they would have stood between the danger and Queen Andais; now they stood beside me.
A voice even lower than Doyle’s came from that tall wall of guards. “We are goblin; you cannot call us back to your side, Queen Andais, for that has never been our place.” It was Jonty, the leader of the Red Caps. He was smallish for his people, only a little over eight feet tall; some of the men in the line were closer to thirteen feet, like small giants, or average-sized ogres. Their skin color ranged through every shade of gray, yellow, and two golds that were almost brown. The sidhe warriors, so tall and commanding, looked small interspersed between them.
“You are Kurag the Goblin King’s problem, not mine, but the men and women you stand beside—they are mine.” Her voice went down another note to a purring, sexual depth, but it didn’t excite any of us who were sidhe, because we knew that it promised violence, not sex, at least for us. I’d begun to realize that violence was a kind of sex for my aunt. She was truly like one of those sexual predators who are wired so that images of violence hit the same centers of the brain that “normal” sex does for the rest of us.
I projected my voice to be heard. It would have been more impressive if I hadn’t been hiding behind my guards, but it would have to do, because Andais wasn’t the most stable person, and I wouldn’t risk myself betting that, one, she couldn’t do magic through the mirror, and two, she would remember that she valued my fertile womb, if nothing else.
“They are not yours, Aunt Andais, not anymore.”
“Do not let your fertility go to your head, Meredith. It may keep you and your lovers safe, but the rest are on loan, nothing more. Until you sit on my throne, the Unseelie sidhe are mine.”
“They are oathed to me now, Aunt Andais.”
“They cannot be oathed twice, niece. That would make them foresworn.”
“The Cranes, my father’s female guards, were never asked to make oath to Prince Cel; you just ordered them to guard him, so they were free to make oath where they will.”
“They were oathed to my son,” she said.
“No, they were not,” I said. I would have liked to see her face, but I trusted the guards to do their job and stared at their broad backs, Galen’s hand still in mine.
“Cel gave them a choice and they swore oath to him.”
“Who told you that?” This was from Cathbodua, who stood at the end of the line that shielded us.
“Cel and the captain of the Cranes, Siobhan.”
“They lied, then,” Cathbodua said.
“Why would they have lied about that?”
“His reasons were his own, always, Queen Andais, but I swear to you that no one standing here today ever took oath to Prince Cel.”
“I neglected much where my son was concerned, and I regret that.”
Cathbodua went to one knee. “I am honored to hear you say that, Queen Andais.”
One guard taking a knee was often a sign for all, but no one else knelt, and after a time Cathbodua got to her feet and joined her fellow guards again.
“I will grant that the female guards are free to be with you, Princess Meredith, but the men are mine.”
“They took oath to me, as well, Aunt Andais,” I said.
“Yes, remind me of our blood ties, Meredith, because you do grow tiresome so quickly.”
“As do these moments between us, for me, auntie.”
“Do not call me auntie.”
“As you wish,” I said. My voice was as neutral as I could make it.
“I will call all my Ravens home to roost, Meredith, and they will come.”
“No, we won’t.” This from Usna, who stood beside Cathbodua. His normal joking voice, as if nothing were really serious, was missing. It was a very grim cat that stepped from the line.
“How dare you tell me ‘no’ and ‘won’t.’ I will carve those words into your flesh.”
“We all made oath to Merry; we are no longer your Ravens. You cannot call us home, and we are no longer yours to torture at your will,” he said, and his voice sounded sad now. I realized that he did not believe that anything would keep him safe from Andais. Usna spoke bravely, but he didn’t believe in that safety.
“Then you are all foresworn.” She almost yelled it.
I spoke then, standing up as if that would help. Galen squeezed my hand tight as if afraid of what I would do. “They are oathed to me, which does make them foresworn.”
“Then they will be punished for breaking their oath,” she said.
“By exile from faerie? Isn’t that the usual punishment for being foresworn?” I said.
“No!” She yelled it.
“Yes,” I said, clearly, calmly.
“You can’t all have chosen exile from faerie,” she said, and her voice held shock.
“We are exiled from the Unseelie Court,” Usna said, “but we are not exiled from faerie, for wherever Princess Meredith goes, faerie follows.”
“That is not possible,” Andais said.
“You have seen it yourself, Queen Andais,” Cathbodua said. “She brought the gardens of the Unseelie Court back to life. Faerie is alive and spreading for the first time in over a thousand years.”
Doyle spoke then. “The night itself must have told you that faerie is alive again.”
“My power has whispered rumors to me,” she said, and her voice was growing calmer. That could be a good thing or a bad thing; one can never tell with psychopaths.
“Then you know that faerie has come to the Western Lands and we are no long
er exiles, but pioneers on the frontier of new fairylands,” Doyle said.
“I cannot let anyone defy me like this, Darkness; you know that I am only as powerful as my threat.”
“I am sorry for that, my queen.”
“I must call one home and make his punishment terrible enough to prevent any others from joining your quiet rebellion.”
“I do not know what to say to that, my queen; it is almost reasonable, and for you very reasonable.”
“Send Usna to me, and I will leave the rest in place,” she said.
I watched Usna reach out and take Cathbodua’s hand. I was about to say something in their defense, but she spoke first. “I am pregnant with Usna’s child.”
“You are lying to save him,” Andais said, voice certain.
“The little stick says I am with child, and the only man I have lain with is Usna.”
“Little stick, what little stick can tell you you are pregnant?”
I said, “Cathbodua, do you mean a home pregnancy test?”
She looked behind to find me, and nodded.
“When did you find out?” I asked.
“Just before this meeting.”
I’d had enough. I stepped forward with Galen’s hand in mine. The Red Caps and sidhe in front of us glanced at each other, and then the sidhe looked to Doyle, and the Red Caps looked to me. Whatever they saw on both our faces, it made them move aside so we could come forward and face Andais.
“We have another fertile couple among the sidhe; it is something to celebrate, Aunt Andais, not punish.”
She stared at me, and there was a look on her face that I couldn’t understand, but it looked almost pained. On anyone else, I might have said it looked afraid, but Andais feared no one, least of all me.
“It is love that has made them fertile,” Galen said. I glanced up at him, but he looked only at the queen. He looked handsome, commanding standing there, as if something had stripped away the last bits of childhood and brought him into the man he was always meant to be.
“The crow and the cat do not love each other; it is lust that has made a child.” Her voice was thick with disdain.
“I didn’t mean their love for one another, but Meredith’s love for them.”
“Are you saying they, too, are her lovers? Is no one safe from your lusts, Meredith?”
Rhys stepped forward. “Meredith loves them as a ruler is supposed to love her subjects.”
“You cannot rule by love,” she said, and her beautiful face was creased with angry lines, as if the monster inside her were starting to peer out.
Galen said, “But they oathed themselves to Meredith because she has shown them love and caring, the way Prince Essus did to his guards.”
“Do not wave my brother’s memory at me and think it will make me relent. Meredith has brought it up too often of late.”
Doyle came to stand on the other side of Galen. “Prince Essus stood between you and those you would harm more than once. I don’t think any of us understood what a good and strong influence he was on you until we lost him.”
“I would allow Essus liberties that no one else dared.”
“You loved your brother,” Doyle said.
“Yes, yes, I loved my brother, but he is dead and gone.”
“But his daughter stands before you; his grandchildren are in the other room waiting to see their great-aunt Andais. Meredith is truly NicEssus, the daughter of Essus, for she has shown the same nobility, kindness, intelligence, and love that he did. He would have made a fine and generous king.”
Her eyes were wide, and I realized that the shine in them now wasn’t magic, but unshed tears. “But for a few years of time he would have been eldest and king.”
“Yes, King Essus,” Doyle said.
One lone tear trailed from her eye. “You have made me cry twice, Meredith, daughter of my brother, mother of my nieces and nephew, bringer of life to the sidhe, creator of new fairylands, and they tell me you do all this by love. Is that true, niece of mine? Are you all sunshine and love? Are you all Seelie sidhe and there is none of the Unseelie’s blackness inside you?”
“I do my best to rule through fairness and love, but I am also the wielder of flesh and blood; those are not Seelie powers, my queen.”
“I saw what your hand of blood can do when you killed my son.”
“I did not flinch when Cel tried to kill me; that was my father’s mistake. If he had not loved Cel, he would not have hesitated in his own defense and my father would be here to see his grandchildren.”
“Do you not think I have thought of that, Meredith, since I learned of my son’s treachery?”
“You ask if I am all sunshine and love, and I tell you this, aunt, I do not rule by love and fairness alone.”
“What then, kindness?” She made it an insult.
“Ruthlessness. I am more ruthless than my father. You can take credit for that, Aunt Andais, for you allowed sidhe after sidhe to challenge me to duels when I had no magic to defend myself. I had to become ruthless to survive, because you would not protect me. You would not acknowledge that the duels were attempts to assassinate me, attempts done either on Cel’s orders or to curry favor from him. If you had only reached out to me, protected me, if not for myself, then for your brother’s memory, but you did not. Essus taught me kindness, honor, love, fairness, justice, but you, dear aunt, you taught me ruthlessness—and hate.”
She smiled then, and nothing she could have done in that moment would have frightened me more. It caught my breath in my throat and made my skin run cold. Galen moved closer to me, folding me in his arms.
“Then perhaps Essus and I have forged a fit ruler for the sidhe, at last. Perhaps it is Taranis who should fear you, Meredith.”
“I do not understand, Aunt Andais.”
“I will let it be known that my Ravens, and Cel’s Cranes, have oathed to you out of love and loyalty the way rulers gathered followers thousands of years ago. I will let it be known that sidhe among your guards that have not been in your bed are with child. I will make certain that the Seelie know we have a new goddess of love and ruthlessness, for it was not only I who taught you that last lesson, Meredith. Your mother’s neglect and Taranis’s madness helped forge you into the ruler you are today.”
I hugged Galen closer and nodded. “I will agree with that, Aunt Andais.”
“I will make certain Taranis knows that.” She gave a short, abrupt laugh. “You may be right after all, Galen Greenknight; perhaps love is frightening enough all on its own without any torture needed.”
She laughed again, and then just walked out of sight of the mirror. It was Eamon who came forward, reaching to blank the glass. He spoke to me before he did it. “Princess Meredith, Prince Galen.” And we were staring at our own startled reflections before I could give him his title in return.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
MAEVE REED STALKED around the main bedroom in a pair of cream slacks, cut wide so they swung enough to give glimpses of the pale taupe stiletto boots underneath. The boots matched her tailored suit jacket, the dress shirt buttoned up to her neck was almost pure white, and her thin man-style tie was metallic gold and cream to pick up the gold of her chain-link belt. The chain was tied into a loose knot to trail across her hip, swinging to cross her groin as she moved, more like jewelry for the waist than an actual belt.
“You look wonderful in this outfit,” I said.
She stopped stalking the white carpet and turned to look at me. “You think so?” She trailed long, slender hands down the chain links, which drew the eye down to her groin again. It wasn’t accidental, but it wasn’t exactly flirting with me either. Maeve had made her living in Hollywood for decades; sex appeal had been one of the commodities that had helped her stay at the top, especially back in the fifties, when she’d have been considered too tall, too thin, and not curvy enough to be a sex symbol. Now she was very chic and very in, but then Maeve Reed, the Golden Goddess of Hollywood, had been one o
f the reasons the fashion had changed from curvy to a thinness that was almost impossible for a human woman to duplicate without starving herself. The sidhe were built differently, like fashion models with a bit more body fat so they still had breasts and ass, but they could eat a Thanksgiving feast every day and not gain weight. Humans couldn’t, and yet they tried.
“I had to go into the studio today. I’m a movie star; people expect an effort.”
“You don’t have to explain it to me. You could have just dressed to be around the house. It’s your clothes, your house, wear what you want.”
She looked at me, blue eyes narrowing. She was using glamour to appear more human, hiding her very inhuman eyes with their tricolor blue and copper and gold lines that went out like miniature lightning bolts, changing her golden skin to a human tan, and even making her straight waist-length hair more yellow than her natural white-blond. I never understood why she darkened her hair; it was within human bounds either way. The skin and eyes she’d had to make more human, but the hair could have stayed.
“Why do you make your hair more yellow-blond than it is naturally? Humans have hair both colors.”
“The yellow-blond looks better on camera,” she said.
“Oh, that makes sense.” I sat on the edge of the bed, swinging my feet, because I was far too short to sit and reach the ground. I was still wearing the purple dress, though I’d changed to a pair of black low-heeled pumps. I might get back into the stilettos in a few weeks, but right now having to fight my body on heels that high and thin just took too much effort. I’d lost most of my weight in an almost magically short time, but I still wasn’t quite myself. The extra cup size in my breasts alone made me feel unbalanced. I’d been generously endowed before, but now it was a true embarrassment of riches.
“I’m sorry that you disagree about hiring lesser fey to work in the house, Meredith, but I just don’t see the point in it. There are plenty of humans in L. A. needing jobs. If we hire only fey, then the media will accuse us of racism.”
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