Dark Swan Bundle

by Richelle Mead

  Shaya and Rurik exchanged glances once more—did they honestly think I didn’t notice each time?—and then followed my lead with the tequila. Rurik took his down stoically, but Shaya choked on hers.

  “What…what is this?” she asked, once she was able to speak.

  “God’s favorite liquor. I should have had Volusian run to the grocery store and get some margarita mix while he was out.” I paused, laughing at the thought. I poured another shot. “It’s made from a kind of cactus, you know.”

  Shaya eyed the bottle askance. “Truly?”

  “Yup. Huh. I wonder if we could manufacture this stuff. I’ve seen agave around. I bet we could set up some serious trade with it.”

  “I’m not so certain,” she said.

  Rurik was pouring another glass. “I don’t know. It might appeal to some.”

  “Ah, Rurik. I knew we were kindred spirits.” I held up my empty shot glass, studying the way the half-moon’s light shone on it. My head was regaining its pleasant buzz again. “Do you think Maiwenn’s going to have a boy or a girl?”

  “I don’t know,” said Shaya after several moments of silence. “There are those who can magically determine such things. But I haven’t heard of the Willow Queen doing that.”

  “Probably not.” Kiyo would have told me. Or would he have? Maybe he would have held on to that news, keeping it as a special secret between him and Maiwenn. I poured another shot but didn’t drink it yet. Shitfaced was one thing; sick was another. “Back in my world, they would have known its gender a long time ago. They also would have been able to tell all sorts of things—its size, if it had any diseases, even if it was twins or triplets. There’s this machine we’ve got. You run a paddle over the mother’s stomach, and then you can see the baby up on this screen. Or, sometimes, even earlier, they can take a needle and suck up amniotic fluid to find out the same things.”

  Rurik and Shaya were staring at me wide-eyed. It was a common expression amongst Otherworldly denizens whenever I began talking about human technology.

  “I wonder sometimes if there’s any mystery or wonder left in your world at all.”

  I glanced over and saw Ysabel’s form silhouetted in the doorway to the castle.

  “Oh, sure. Plenty of it.” I gestured her over. “Come have a drink. I’m pretty sure I’m too drunk to kill anyone tonight.”

  Ysabel hesitated a few seconds and then slowly walked over, sitting near Rurik and Shaya, as far from me as she could respectfully go. She grimaced slightly at the tiles as she tucked her flowing silk skirts underneath her. No doubt being on the ground went against her fastidious nature. Rurik cheerfully handed her a tequila shot. She sniffed it, and her scowl returned.

  My mind was still on babies. “Seems like ultrasounds would be useful to you guys. I mean, what with the trouble you have having kids.”

  There was a good chance, I knew, that Maiwenn might not even survive the delivery. Or that her child wouldn’t. It was common among the gentry, sort of the cost for their long and healthy lives. I didn’t know how I felt about that. I didn’t wish death on either of them…and yet, how much simpler would things be if there was no Maiwenn and no baby? Even now, I could picture Kiyo by her side, holding her hand. His handsome face would be lined with worry as he spoke words of encouragement. Surely, with his human blood, their baby would be healthy and strong. And Maiwenn was a healer…. would that be useful to herself? Maybe. Everything would go well, I was certain, and they’d undoubtedly have a beautiful baby, one that would create a bond between them forever, a bond I could never be a part of….

  I drank my next shot and noticed that Ysabel had manfully downed hers. “Nice work,” I said. “You want another?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t consider it ladylike to drown oneself in excess, losing hold of inhibitions and all sense of decorum.”

  “Of course you don’t,” I said.

  “I believe,” she added primly, “that the Willow Queen shares my views.”

  I smiled, spinning my cup on the ground, watching in fascination as it turned in smaller and smaller circles before coming to a stop. With Maiwenn’s baby consuming my thoughts, Ysabel’s baiting seemed insignificant tonight.

  We continued on for a while, Rurik keeping up with me in shots, with Shaya only occasionally indulging. Ysabel seemed to have lost her fear of me and continued her running commentary of barbed remarks. I think knowing I was in a fragile state over Maiwenn’s labor had emboldened her. In fact, she was in the middle of some anecdote about how Kiyo and Maiwenn had first gotten involved when her words came to a halt, and her features lit up with surprise.

  “My lord!” she cried, springing up just as one of my servants began announcing, “His royal majesty, King Dorian, of the House of Arkady, caller of earth—”

  Dorian strode forward into the courtyard without waiting for his titles to finish. Ysabel fell to her knees before him, face radiant. “My lord!”

  He gave her a brief nod of acknowledgment and then swept on past her toward me. I don’t think anyone except me saw the devastation that filled her face over the slight. Shaya and Rurik began to rise out of courtesy, but Dorian quickly motioned them down. Unfastening his cloak—it appeared to be navy in the moonlight—he spread it on the ground and sat beside me.

  “Well, well, a party, and no one invited me.”

  “It was kind of impromptu,” I said, reaching over to pour him a shot. My hand trembled as I held the bottle.

  Dorian took it from me and finished pouring. He eyed me carefully. “And yet, it appears to have been going on for some time.”

  “Yes. We’re toasting the birth of the next king or queen of the Willow Land.”

  “So I’ve heard, which is why I came to see how the news was received here.” Dorian tossed back the tequila. His eyebrows rose in surprise at the taste, but it didn’t stop him from pouring another. “And don’t presume her child will inherit. It all depends on strength and power.”

  His words reminded me distantly of Leith’s own inheritance problems, which then reminded me of Leith’s declaration of love. Ugh. I’d probably killed our one chance at engineering help. Well, that was a concern for another day. “How’d you get here so fast?” I asked Dorian.

  “Not that fast. I heard hours ago.”

  Hours ago. Dorian had found out before I had. Probably everyone had. Who was I, after all? Certainly no one who was connected to this birth. I was just another monarch who’d be expected to send jewels or tapestries when the baby was born. I poured another shot, but Shaya reached for it.

  “May I have another?” She wasn’t a fan of this stuff, but I had a feeling she wanted to stop me from drinking any more. Oh, well. There appeared to be about one more shot in the bottle—though Dorian beat me to that one too.

  “You’ll make yourself sick,” I warned, reaching for the bottle. Only a few drops poured into my cup.

  “I’ll take my chances. This is a fascinating substance.”

  “It comes from cacti,” I said helpfully, hoping it might deter him from that last shot. It didn’t.

  “Intriguing,” he said after downing it. “You should try producing it here. I’m certain a number of people would trade for it.”

  I couldn’t be certain in the near-darkness, but it looked like Shaya rolled her eyes.

  Part of me resented Dorian’s presence, though I had to admit that he did a good job in keeping the subject away from Maiwenn and Kiyo. That didn’t stop me from thinking about them, of course, but I couldn’t help but smile as he entertained the others. Whether it was part of being a king or just something inherently Dorian, he had a powerful charisma about him that could make everyone laugh and stay captivated. With my social reticence, his were skills I admired—and occasionally envied.

  As the night wore on, though, I could feel the tequila’s effects lessening a little. That wasn’t to say I still wasn’t drunk as hell; I’d taken down half that bottle myself. But, I wanted to go to bed while I was still in that
delirious haze. It didn’t stop me from feeling down over Kiyo, but I had to imagine being sober would be worse.

  Everyone stood up when I did, and I felt my legs struggle for balance. “Let me assist you,” said Shaya, reaching toward me. Dorian intervened before she could help.

  “No, no. Allow me to guide the Thorn Queen to her room. I’d like a few words.” Ysabel’s face darkened at this, and he gave her a chastising look. “Oh, stop it. I’ll come to you shortly—provided Eugenie will allow me to stay overnight in her castle.”

  “Sure, sure,” I said. “Come on over. Make yourself at home. Pick out curtains.”

  He extended his arm to me, and I decided the indignity of letting Dorian guide me was less than that of me falling over in front of my servants. Ysabel’s eyes followed us furiously, and I couldn’t blame her. If my boyfriend were taking a drunk woman to her bedroom, I’d be pissed too.

  “It was very high-handed of you to think I needed your moral support,” I told him once we were out of earshot of the others.

  “Right. You only need the moral support of a bottle,” he teased. “Be honest, Eugenie. Your lover’s at the side of a former lover, eagerly awaiting the birth of their child. I’d be distressed as well.”

  “Nothing distresses you,” I grumbled. We reached my room, and he followed me in without invitation.

  “Plenty of things do,” he said. He frowned, ever so slightly, and it occurred to me he was none too sober himself.

  I let go of his arm and walked over to the full-length mirror that stood on one side of the room, edged in gold. I’d pinned up my hair earlier and let it down now, wondering if I wanted to bother with sending Nia for a nightgown or if I’d just sleep in my clothes. Standing there, I stared at my body, thinking again of my mother’s claims that I was too skinny. I always argued it was an athletic build. Running my hands over the sides of my stomach and down to my hips, I studied my figure. Whatever you wanted to call it, it was slim.

  “I can never do that for him,” I said in a small voice. “I can never give him a baby like she can.”

  Dorian strolled over and stood behind me, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “Do you want to?”

  “I don’t know. Kids were never on my radar…it was always a ‘maybe someday’ kind of thing. But now…knowing I can’t…” My hips and stomach suddenly seemed as unhealthily skinny as my mother had always said. They would remain untouched and infertile, never filling out with the kind of life Maiwenn’s had. I would never share that with Kiyo.

  I flinched as Dorian reached from behind and placed his hands on the narrowest part of my waist. He rested his head on my shoulder, and I was too weary to shoo him away.

  “You speak like someone who’s been condemned with infertility or like you’ve passed your prime.”

  “I might as well be.”

  “That’s not true. You’re young. You radiate health and fertility. You could have a dozen children.”

  I shook my head slowly. “I can’t,” I said sadly. “I won’t. You know I won’t, no matter how much you and every other Otherworldly creature want me to.”

  “Maybe you’d have a daughter.”

  “I can’t take the risk.” I knew I’d never be confiding in him sober. “And what if Kiyo decides he doesn’t want that—to be with someone who’s always going to be childless? What if he wants more kids? Maybe this baby…Maybe he’ll go back to Maiwenn. Maybe…maybe he’ll leave me….” I could feel tears forming in my eyes and hated myself for the weakness.

  Dorian tightened his grip on my waist. “He’d be a fool. And you’d be a fool to mourn him if he did. You’re more than a childbearing vessel.”

  “Not the way everyone talks. Not the way you talk.”

  To my shock, Dorian spun me around. Still gripping me, he pressed his forehead to mine so that only an inch was between us. I could smell the tequila on his breath, no doubt mirroring my own.

  “Eugenie, you’re a woman without equal, and no matter how much you annoy the hell out of me and no matter how much I try to get you out of my head—and believe me, both occur regularly—I can’t stay away from you. Even if you were barren, I’d take you as my consort in an instant and spend the rest of my life with you—childless, so long as it meant you’d be by my side. I would gladly bring you to my bed with no other thoughts than taking joy from your body. It would be enough.”

  I swallowed. “But you’re with…I mean, what about…what about Ysabel? She can have kids….”

  “Ysabel,” he said dismissively, “is nothing. A pale imitation of you—and not even a good one at that.”

  That was harsh of him, but it filled me with something warm and loved and special. I realized then that no matter the bantering, sexual tension, and many schemes, Dorian really was my friend. I also realized that I wanted so badly then for him to kiss me, to crush his body against mine and run his hands along my bare skin. I wanted to have sex with him against the wall, on the bed, on the floor…it honestly didn’t matter, so long as our bodies were joined, and I could feel him in me….

  Whoa. I jerked away, my heart racing, barely stopping myself from doing something I’d regret. Deciding he was my friend was one thing; jumping into bed was another. I knew it was the tequila and my worry over Kiyo causing this. I didn’t want to be with Dorian again; I couldn’t be. Even if he claimed it would be for love and pleasure, I knew it could never be that simple. There would always be politics and schemes….

  And so, I did the most unsexy thing I could. I summoned Volusian.

  The icy, dark presence of my minion caught even Dorian by surprise, and he took a step back. It was the Otherworldly equivalent of a cold shower. Volusian’s eyes flicked to him and then turned back to me.

  “My mistress requires more intoxication,” he said.

  “No.” My magical hold on him trembled ever so slightly. It was nowhere near enough for me to lose control, but the alcohol messed with my power a bit. “I wanted you to go to the Willow Land and see if there’s any news.”

  “More romantic errands.”

  “Just go,” I snapped, trying to sound as harsh and commanding as I could.

  As soon as Volusian was gone, Dorian strode angrily to me, all traces of sensuality gone. “That was stupid, Eugenie. You shouldn’t have summoned him after drinking so much.”

  I turned away from him. “I need to find out what’s going on.”

  “You need to banish him. You’re going to regret keeping him someday.”

  “He’s useful,” I protested. “I don’t need any lectures. You should go to Ysabel now. I don’t need any more declarations of love today.”

  “Oh?” His light tone returned. “Had a few of those today?”

  “Leith,” I admitted. “He came by tonight to profess his undying devotion and see if he had a chance with me.”

  Dorian’s green eyes watched me carefully. “And?”

  “And, of course not. I had to tell him no a few times before he finally got it.”

  Dorian didn’t bother hiding his satisfaction. “You’ve broken the poor boy’s heart. And his mother’s, no doubt. There’ll be no ball now. Would you like me to throw one instead?”

  “No.” My sadness was turning into irritability. “I want you to leave. Go to Ysabel and paint her or tie her up or whatever it is you do together. I’m tired and want to go to bed. Alone.”

  To my surprise, Dorian didn’t protest. Much. “As you wish. If you need me, you know where I’ll be.”

  “It would take a lot for me to interrupt you,” I said dryly.

  Dorian gave me one of his knowing, sly smiles and then left without another word. The thought of him going to Ysabel’s bed troubled me more than I would have liked. He’d barely been gone a few minutes when Volusian returned.

  “Well?” I asked. My stomach was queasy. I didn’t know what I wanted to hear.

  If it was in Volusian’s nature to smile, I swear, he would have. “The servants of the Willow Land report joyfully that their que
en has given birth to a daughter. All are healthy and well.”

  My body went perfect still, and for a moment, I saw nothing in the room except those glowing red eyes. Finally, I snapped back to myself. “Thank you, Volusian.”

  “Does my mistress require me to learn anything else about this joyous occasion?” There was a sneer in his voice.

  “No. Go back to Jasmine. Now.”

  He obeyed, leaving me alone. I sat on the bed for several minutes, thinking of everything and nothing. I felt numb. I felt every emotion in the world. And when I suddenly ripped the air from the room and used it to smash a vase against the wall, I couldn’t say if it was because of Dorian or Kiyo.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I tossed and turned that night, surprised I didn’t lapse into the alcohol-induced coma I’d kind of hoped for. I finally woke up with the sunrise and decided to leave before too many people noticed. Only a few servants were up and around, for which I was grateful. I didn’t want to see Shaya’s concerned look or listen to Dorian and Ysabel flirt over breakfast. I didn’t want to think about what the two of them had done last night—or why it bothered me so much. I was Dorian’s friend. That was enough.

  Before leaving, I stuck my head downstairs in the prison. The night shift of guards was still awake and alert, and Volusian kept his emotionless watch in the cell’s corner. Jasmine was curled up in a ball, fast asleep, though I could see dried tears on her cheeks. Unguarded in sleep, she seemed very young.

  I transitioned back to Tucson, bearing one of the worst hangovers of my life. Despite the fact that it was later in the morning there, my house was as still as the castle had been. Considering the way the cats and dogs watched me expectantly, I had to assume Tim hadn’t gotten up to feed them yet. I let the dogs out in the backyard and told the cats they’d have to wait. As for me, I downed two glasses of water and half a bottle of aspirin practically, before collapsing in my room. My own bed provided the comfort the castle’s couldn’t, and I slept heavily for two hours.

  I felt a lot better when I got up, and a shower improved things further. The smells of French toast wafted out to me, and my tormented stomach welcomed the thought of food. I headed out to the kitchen to tell Tim to serve up a double helping and found that he wasn’t alone. A girl in her twenties sat at the table, giggling and wearing his Homeland Security T-shirt. Tim stood at the stove with the aforementioned French toast, bare-chested in sweatpants and several beaded necklaces.