She sat, shaking her head in disbelief. “No,” she said quietly, but no one paid any attention. Munro could feel her anger rising, gurgling inside her. No, she thought, and the room froze, everyone having heard it. “I will not force Griogair into another loveless, political marriage because it is convenient for us. I will not…” Then she stopped whatever she was going to say and stood. “I will not,” she repeated.
Relief washed over Munro. He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.
“You would not have to force me,” Griogair said, and every eye turned to him. He stood facing Eilidh, and he bowed to her. “It would be an honour.”
Oron stood beside Eilidh and put his arm around her. “Of course no one would force anyone to do anything. It’s a lot to take in. It’s been a long day. Don’t worry. We will take care of everything.”
She started to argue, but Munro took her hand. “Eilidh, let’s get some air. Oron is right. You need food and rest.” His heart was pounding and his thoughts reeling, just like hers were, but he kept himself steady for her. To Oron he said, “I’ll take her to the druids’ house.”
Oron barely seemed to notice their departure, but Prince Griogair slipped out after them. As they stepped hand-in-hand to the side gate, he said, “Milady, I would have a private word with you, if you will. These things should not be decided in committee, but sadly, they often are, when one is a head of state.”
She glanced at Munro. “Where I go, my druid goes. Anything to be said to me can be said to him.”
Griogair hesitated, then nodded. “As you wish.” He followed them silently to the house. The other druids were nowhere about, so the three sat in the front room. When they got comfortable, he said, “This was not my plan.”
Eilidh inclined her head. “I know. This seems very much an idea that was conceived at a moment’s notice. It is not well considered. I don’t know what the conclave is thinking, trying to raise me, of all the azuri fae, as their queen.”
“No, that I understand. You are young, but powerful. You can mind-speak, which you demonstrated very nicely to all of us. You told Cadhla that was a rare talent only the most powerful can employ, did you not? Almost unheard of for one your age?”
“I don’t have power. I have potential.”
“That’s the most we can ask for in a young queen. Cadhla was as young and inexperienced as you when she took the throne. But it’s more than your potential power. Your popularity in the kingdom helps. They see you as self-sacrificing, where Cadhla has become a horror. Oh, she will try to contain the rumours as she always has, but with my whispers and those of my network of friends, she won’t find it so easy this time.”
“But—”
“I can, just with my word, make you noble. I can’t, however, make you royal, give you legitimacy in the Halls of Mist. Only taking me as your mate, or someone like me, would accomplish that. Is there another you think would be more suitable? The queen of Prow has a son.” Griogair sat back, thinking. “And they would be a powerful ally. They have restricted their azuri, but not been as harsh with them as Cadhla has. They may consider it. Then there’s the queen of Saldire. She has an elder brother. Yes, that might work. I know him. I can get a message to him. It might take some time since we have to go down to the Andenan gates to contact my messengers. Or maybe the sea fae would carry our request for parley to the Halls of Mist.”
“Sea…? Griogair. No. I won’t take any of them. Yes, I would be accepted as a royal, but they couldn’t bring me the hearts of the Caledonians the way you can.”
Munro remained quiet, watching the two of them talk. Was she actually considering this?
“What about Tràth?” she asked gently.
“Tràth?” Griogair said thoughtfully. “Yes. It could work. He is younger, and perhaps not strong right now, but he will heal in time, and I would be on hand to advise you, if that’s what you wanted. Although Cadhla disowned him when she sent the death order, many would accept him as the legitimate heir.”
“What? No.” She shook her head. “I don’t mean I want to take Tràth as my mate. By faith, Griogair, he’s been unconscious half the day, and even then, the kingdom might be nervous if both the queen and her consort had unprecedented talents in the Path of Stars. He needs guidance, teaching and care. What I meant was what about his feelings? Yes, fine, we can sketch out a plan, but we aren’t the only ones we’re affecting. Your son needs a father who can care for him, not one tied to an infant queen, a substitute mother even younger than he. I understand you would sacrifice your own desires for your people, and I admire that, but I love Quinton.” She didn’t look at Munro, but he could feel the swell of emotion as she kept her eyes on Griogair. “So, you see, I can’t do this.”
The prince met Eilidh’s eyes. “You must. Yes, Tràth will need help, but he always has. With you on the throne, he would receive that help. I wouldn’t have to fear for his life. You speak about the feelings of others, but what about your father? If you take me as your mate, you could ensure he was never harmed or threatened again. Him and hundreds of others. You could save others like Tràth, get them the training they need before they lose control.”
“Hey,” Munro interrupted. “That’s not fair.”
“No,” Griogair agreed. “It isn’t fair, but it is the truth.”
Munro stood. “Eilidh is tired, and she needs to sleep. Can you find your way back to Oron’s, or shall I walk you back?”
The prince looked from Munro to Eilidh. “Think about what I have said. I know you have endured a lot in your life. I share some of the responsibility for that. I didn’t fight Cadhla to try and convince her to accept those who follow the Path of Stars.”
Eilidh shook her head. “She wouldn’t have listened. If she would kill her own son, she was beyond redemption.”
Munro spoke up. “You said if I saved your son, you would do anything I asked in return.”
Griogair’s face froze. “I did. Is this what you ask? That I abandon my people in their most difficult hour? That I refuse the conclave’s request to become Eilidh’s consort? You are human.” He waved away the protest building in Munro’s chest that must have been evident on his face. “You are an important human, I see that, but I say this to remind you that you don’t understand our people as well as you will in a few centuries. I can see the winds blowing, druid. Eilidh will be queen at nightfall. She doesn’t belong to you. She belongs to her people. She will never be your housebound wife in a wee cottage in the heather. I gave you my word, and you gave me my son, but please don’t ask me to abandon my honour.”
Munro looked down. He had always known he and Eilidh would never be a typical couple, but he couldn’t see how he could give her up to another man.
Eilidh stood. “Good day, Griogair. Thank you for your counsel. I value your thoughts and your experience. No matter what I decide, I hope I can count on your support.” She smiled graciously, but Munro knew it to be a false smile.
“When you are crowned, my knee will be the first to bend. I made a promise to you as well. It’s the least I can do for the life of my only child.” He left without another word, closing the front door softly behind him.
Eilidh held out her hand to Munro, and he took it tentatively. “What are you going to do?” he asked.
“Ask me that at dusk. As Griogair said, I’ll be queen tonight. The conclave has made up their minds about that much, and I know I have little choice if I want to remain part of this community. All that remains is to argue over the details. My only choice would be to go back into exile, to abandon them and my father forever. I can’t do that.” A tear slid down her cheek. “For now, can we hold one another? Can we forget our worries, the things that will come, and spend the last daylight hours pretending we’re two young, carefree lovers?” She drew close and kissed him, but he could feel her sadness and desperation.
He returned her kiss, swept her into his arms, and carried her to bed. He did his best to distract her from her burdens and to i
gnore the weight he could sense in her mind.
Chapter 18
Munro lay next to Eilidh and watched her sleep. Her pale eyelashes fluttered as she dreamed. She murmured once in a while, and he could sense her disquiet, so he brushed his hand softly along her bare arm and whispered, “It’s all right. Shhh.” He placed a small kiss on her forehead.
“Te’drecht,” she muttered and nuzzled into his arms, but her thoughts grew calmer.
After a moment, Munro extricated himself from her embrace and stood, all the while trying not to swing the bed so much it would wake her. He paused briefly to take in the view of her perfect skin, the curve of her hips, the crooked smile that suddenly played across her lips. He tried to bury the grief he felt, knowing that if things went the way he feared and she married Griogair, this was likely the last time they would make love.
Sorting through the clothing they’d tossed on the floor, he found his jeans and slipped them on before making his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of berry juice from the fridge and thought about how adaptable the fae on Skye had been, learning to cope with human technology while preserving their own culture. They combined the best of both worlds. He had hoped that he and Eilidh would be able to do the same. Now she was set to be a queen and was considering marrying someone he wasn’t even sure he liked. He leaned against the counter and squeezed his eyes shut.
Could he go back to Perth? He hadn’t yet put his house up for sale, and Hallward hadn’t let him quit his job, so Munro didn’t have to worry about looking for work. Since Eilidh learned to shut off their emotional connection, perhaps she could maintain that. He would always feel her presence, but at least he wouldn’t have to endure feeling her so intimately within his mind. His chest got tighter as he thought about leaving her, but he didn’t see how he could stay and watch her make her life with another man. Surely that would be too much to ask.
The front door opened, and Aaron, Phillip, and Rory’s voices, lifted in good-natured banter, echoed through the house. They came into the kitchen, setting down bags from the supermarket. Apparently they’d decided to supplement the faerie cuisine with Jaffa Cakes and Irn Bru, an orange-coloured Scottish soft drink that was as much a part of the national identity as haggis and stovies.
“Douglas still with Tràth?” Aaron asked.
Munro nodded. “Last I saw, yeah. What happened? I wasn’t really watching Douglas in Auchterarder, and then the next thing I know, nobody can budge him from Tràth’s bedside.”
“I’m not sure,” Phillip replied. He gathered up the empty plastic bags from their shopping trip and, not finding a recycle bin, stuffed them into a drawer. “They drove with Eilidh and Prince Griogair. They got a bit ahead of us on the road though, and by the time we realised they’d gone to Oron’s instead of coming here, we were told the prince couldn’t be disturbed.”
“If the prince is bonding with Douglas,” Aaron said, “he’s already disturbed.” The others chuckled.
“So what’s going on?” Phillip asked. “There was some big pow-wow at Oron’s, but we couldn’t get past the crowd.”
“Looks like it might be war,” Munro said. He explained that some of Queen Cadhla’s people had attacked the island while their group was in Auchterarder. “They’re thinking about whether to counter-attack and try to take on the kingdom, or to defend and stay independent but argue for recognition from the Halls of Mist. Either way, they’re going to raise a queen. Eilidh.”
The three other druids just stared at Munro for a moment. “Wow,” Phillip said. “A queen?”
“Tonight, probably. So, their focus on getting you three bonded will take a back seat while they sort all of this out. But it might be a good thing. You can be around, meet more of them, and maybe it’ll happen more naturally that way, you know? Without them trying to force pairings for political reasons.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice.
“Is that it? Do you think they coerced Douglas into bonding with Tràth because he’s a prince?”
Munro chuckled. “Tràth is the last person they wanted any of you to bond with. And it still might not happen. Tràth seemed pretty unstable, according to Eilidh, and she doesn’t know what the bonding might do. And if Tràth dies, well, Douglas could never bond with anyone else. So, nobody wants to say it, but they don’t want Douglas wasted.”
“That’s pretty cheap,” Rory muttered. “The kid didn’t look that bad to me. Could he really die?”
“I don’t know,” Munro said.
“What aren’t you telling us?” Phillip asked.
Munro set his cup on the counter. “It doesn’t really have anything to do with you guys. It’s Eilidh. After she’s made queen, they want her to marry Griogair. It’ll give her status with the Halls of Mist, and I think the elders are hoping it’ll bring some support in the Caledonian kingdom. He’s been the prince-consort there for hundreds of years.”
“Crikey,” Rory said. “He doesn’t look that old.”
“Shut up, you moron,” Phillip muttered, shoving Rory lightly. To Munro he said, “But she’s not going through with it, right? I mean, everybody knows Eilidh and you are an item.”
“She might not have a choice.” Or none she could live with.
Aaron clapped his hand on Munro’s back. “I’m sorry, man. That really sucks. Want us to take him out? He’s no big cheese here, where he can’t touch his earth magic, right? We could take him,” he assured Munro with a grin. “You probably know all kinds of ways to dispose of a body, being a cop and all.”
Munro rolled his eyes. “Don’t tempt me.”
Phillip chuckled. “We could just break his knees then, or maybe that pretty nose of his. Nobody should be that good looking anyway.”
Munro couldn’t help but laugh, and he was grateful for the guys knowing just what he wanted to hear. “I think Eilidh might object, but I’ll keep the offer in mind.”
“That explains why he’s loitering around then,” Rory said.
“What?” Munro asked. “Where?”
“I saw him outside, kind of, when we came in.”
“Kind of? Jesus, Rory. You might have mentioned it,” Munro said. “He’s probably waiting for Eilidh. She’s sleeping in my room. I’ll go talk to him.”
“You sure you don’t want us to come?” Aaron drew his finger across his own neck.
Munro grinned. “I got this. But thanks.” His smile faded as he grabbed his shirt from the bedroom and slipped it over his head. Eilidh still slept, and this was possibly his last chance to talk to Griogair before the conclave made its final decisions.
The druids’ house sat on a hill with trees and high grass all around. If Rory had seen Griogair, though, he must have been on the front side of the house. Munro didn’t see the prince right away, so he walked down the road, not realising until he stepped on a sharp stone that he had come outside barefoot. In January. He wasn’t even cold. Suddenly, his fantasies of returning to his old life didn’t seem reasonable. With his glowing eyes and pointy ears, he’d have quite a time explaining himself. He could maybe take to wearing sunglasses at night to hide his eyes. It seemed ridiculous, but the idea of watching Eilidh marry this guy seemed that unbearable.
Half way down the long country driveway, Munro saw Griogair sitting in a small clearing under a large tree. “I was waiting for you,” Griogair said. “I thought you would seek me out, demand a duel for your lady’s hand. Isn’t that what humans do?”
“Not for a couple hundred years.” Munro sat on the grass across from the prince. “I really do love her.”
“I know,” Griogair said. “I saw the two of you together. I’ve had many lovers, but never love. I envy you.”
“You are about to marry the woman I want, and you envy me?”
“She’s agreed to it?” Griogair sat up straighter and looked Munro in the eye. “I saw the way she looked at you, and I thought she wouldn’t have the strength.”
“If she wasn’t planning to go through with it, she wouldn�
�t be so sad. You’d be surprised how strong she is.” Munro toyed with a long blade of grass. “God dammit,” he muttered. “There’s no other way?” He realised how strange it was, asking Griogair if he could find a way not to marry Eilidh, but who else would listen?
Griogair shrugged. “She could try to stand on her own as queen, but even if the Halls of Mist accepted her, which I’m not sure they would, there would be difficulties. Nearly every kingdom has passed some form of law in the past millennia restricting the use of the Path of Stars, if not outright banning it. But you must understand, even if she does not take me as her mate, she will eventually have to make a political union. If she avoided that somehow, and I very much doubt she could find a way to do so, a queen could never have a human mate. Not even a druid. At least by creating a union with a faerie of royal lineage, it would take away concerns about her relationship with you. If she stood alone, many would question how much influence you had on the kingdom, and that would be a grave concern to either conclave.”
Azuri Fae - Urban Fantasy (Caledonia Fae) Page 18