Defense for Rook pursed my lips. Then I thought of my mom, and the urge vanished. “Care to tell me what the real reason is why I’m getting even a temporary get out of jail free ticket?”
His chuckle rumbled under his breath. “Fae are star born and sun forged. This notion of peaceful living was a new idea to old minds. Old ones prize novelty as much as they fear the change it brings. It is never a certainty whether curiosity or self-preservation will triumph. We all thought ‘What harm can come of living this way?’ Longevity, stability and wealth were the benefits Black Dog extoled.”
“Faerie thrived under those laws.” Or so the conclave assured us.
“Aye, she did, for a while. Now those laws are poison ink seeping beneath her parchment skin.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The truce was signed with blood, locking us into a forced peace, which causes dissent to ripple beneath the surface of every conversation. This is not a natural state of being. This is not as it should be. Peace is an empty gesture when it must be maintained by force. Your father has exhausted himself for his beliefs, and I admire his dedication, but the old truce was broken when King Moran died.”
“If the truce is broken and everyone wants out,” I wondered, “why bother with any of this?”
“It’s sleight of hand, child. Smoke and mirrors. Present your enemies the face you wish them to see while concealing your true intentions. You are a final hope for your father’s writ. The people will either follow you out of loyalty for him and respect for how you obtained the crown, or they will rebel and blood will fall like rain across the land.” He exhaled. “Truth be told, it would almost be a relief.”
With a mighty sigh, the Huntsman strode toward the Watchers and addressed the consuls.
Diode issued a deep purr, drawing my attention down to him. I got the message. We weren’t leaving any time soon, so I ought to put my hands to good use.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Rook. He stood with his shoulders back and his face wiped of emotion. His eyes, though, burned bright. Anticipation rolled off him until my nerves jittered. Pride. That was what I saw in him. Ambition too. Beneath the obvious I saw the boy he had once described, who must have ached to belong to this backstabbing fae world. He wet his lips, no doubt tasting his elusive acceptance.
Deep wounds only festered if they were left untreated. Rook’s could use a smear of Neosporin.
Looking at him, I hoped I wasn’t staring into my future. I had daddy issues. Hell, I had mommy issues too. Who didn’t? But I had to believe I could let go of my anger where the first was concerned and smooth bumps in the second before it was too late. Rook wasn’t looking to heal. Maybe if I…
No. Rook was not my problem. Smile and wave, grab Mom then burn rubber getting home. That was the plan. No pit stops in Redemptionville. You had to want to be saved. No one could want it for you. Change wouldn’t stick if you built Teflon walls around yourself. Nope. Fixing him was his job.
“Princess.”
I continued chewing my bottom lip.
“Princess?”
Claws pierced the meat of my thigh. I bit down hard to stop the scream trapped in my throat and glared at Diode, who cut his eyes toward the waiting consuls.
Oh. Yeah. Princess.
That would be me.
I corrected my slouch and tried sounding solemn. “Yes?”
“The case made on your behalf has its merits,” Liosliath allowed. “You may be in grave danger. We have granted others temporary pardons from their duties under similar circumstances. Also, we feel that in light of your upbringing, formal training would not go amiss before you ascend to the throne. Your husband can see to that.
“We have decided to grant you one year to prepare yourself for your new position. We will set your coronation date one year from today. During that time, your husband will rule in your stead as Prince Regent of Faerie.”
“Do you find those terms agreeable?” Daibhidh asked with grim resolve.
“I do.” Freedom loomed so close I could taste tomorrow’s breakfast burrito.
“Then we are all in agreement,” the Huntsman boomed.
“I do have one last question.” I kept my voice level. “When will my mother be returned to me?”
The consuls shrugged in unison.
“That is a civil matter,” Liosliath said. Daibhidh agreed. “Your husband has those details.”
The tiny drop of pity I had felt for Rook evaporated. A civil matter, they said. Ask my husband, they said. They didn’t care. Not about Mom’s health or her wellbeing or her happiness. She was a human whose life mattered less to them than the pixies my father kept jarred.
How could I learn to care for this realm or its politics when neither cared anything for me?
Chapter 30
My knees lasted a dozen steps away from the Halls of Summer’s watery portal before collapsing. One minute I was walking with my fingers clutching Diode’s ruff, the next I hit the ground.
Rook tugged me to my feet and slung his arm around my waist. “It’s over.”
“No.” I resented how I leaned against him. “It’s just beginning.”
As much as I wanted to pull away, I wanted to escape from the consuls and their Watchers more. I let him help me into the relative safety of Spring before slipping from his grasp and walking alone.
Diode padded beside me, his thick brow furrowed and his long tail marking time behind him.
No one spoke. Preserving our tentative peace meant keeping our mouths shut.
A trick of time sped our crossing through Spring. Maybe I was too lost in my thoughts to notice until the slap of frigid winds across my cheeks stung me into alertness. We had arrived in Winter. Suddenly, I was glad I hadn’t changed from my protective clothes.
Rook’s icy home was invisible amid the whirling snowflakes until I stumbled over a path leading to its door. The calmness that had insulated me for the past several hours shattered as my fist hit the wood.
Rook caught my wrist. “Stop before you break your hand.”
“Open it,” I snarled.
“I can’t.” He glanced overhead. “The premises are enchanted. I keyed the spell to Bháin before I left. He knows we’re here. Be patient. Give him time to reach the door before you break it down.”
Diode bumped his broad head against my hip. Even in his silence, he was siding with Rook.
Not one minute passed, not two or three. Not even four, but five whole minutes ticked past, counted out by my tapping foot, before Bháin greeted us. Dismissing Rook with a bland smirk, he bowed. To me.
“Princess Thierry.” His voice shivered down my spine. “It is gratifying to see you again.”
I peered up at him. “How did you…?”
“I hear things.” He lifted his hand, and a snowflake danced across his palm. “Word travels fast.”
“What can I say?” I edged past him into the house. “I’m harder to kill than I look.”
He stepped aside as Rook entered, and didn’t blink at Diode. “Can I prepare—?”
“Cut the crap.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Take me to my mother.”
He exchanged a calm glance with Rook.
I stepped between them, though they could see over my head. I snapped my fingers in Bháin’s face. “Now.”
With a formal bow that dripped sarcasm, Bháin turned on his heel. “Follow me.”
He guided me past the fireplace where the elemental leapt to its feet, glowing in cheery welcome. Unfamiliar with elemental courtesies, I smiled on my way past. Bháin sauntered down the winding hall to the right of the foyer. More portraits of death and dismemberment hung on the walls. I wondered what Mom had thought of them. Had she walked these halls? Been carried? Blindfolded?
Try as I might, I couldn’t dredge up the courage to ask.
“Here we are.” He knocked twice. “Agnes?”
“Come in. I’m decent.” With a husky chuckle, she added, “For now.”
&n
bsp; Bháin found anywhere other than at me to look. “You have a visitor.”
“Oh, really?” She tittered. “Giovani, I’m no spring chicken. I can’t keep up with—”
I shoved him aside and opened the door before I tossed my cookies. “Mom.”
There she was, reclining on a lounger with a magazine on her lap and a sunhat on her head. She wore the same yellow and black rose swimsuit, except the top had come undone and the ties were wound around her fingers. Ew. Ew. Ew. I blinked a few times, testing if I had been blinded for life by her nip slip.
Mom was perfectly safe, perfectly sound, and scarring me for life with her pool-boy shenanigans.
“Thierry?” She flattened the magazine against her chest. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
My first step into the room confused the hell out of me.
Gone were the ice-block walls. There were no walls period. I had stepped from ice floors onto the powdery sands of Galveston Island. Blues skies stretched into forever. Waves crashed as gulls cried. I trudged through the sand to her lounger, plopped down and just breathed the briny air for a minute.
“I told you I was going to visit Marcia and Stan for the weekend.” She leaned forward and retied her top. “They’re at the bar getting us drinks. You look flushed. Do you need a bottled water?”
“No.” I scooted closer and rested my head against her side. “I’m fine.”
She pushed the hairs from my eyes and pressed the back of her hand to my forehead. “You don’t feel hot.” She checked the sides of my throat for swelling. “Is your throat sore? Have you been coughing?”
I took her hands in mine. “I’m good, really.”
She sighed. “You never said why you’re here.”
It stung how eager she was to shoo me off and get back to flirting with men who looked half her age but were probably older than the sand under my butt. By all appearances, she was having a blast. She hadn’t even noticed my getup. Maybe that was part of the illusion too.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw the freestanding door a few dunes away from us.
All of this was one complex visual and audial illusion. This beach, that particular couple—who I knew Mom hadn’t spoken to since I killed their daughter Andrea—all the details were pulled straight from her memory. Bháin was powerful if he could create such a vivid false reality and maintain it for days on end. Fondness for him oozed from her voice. He had played along to make her comfortable. Just how comfortable I never wanted to find out.
I didn’t know what to make of this, of any of this. I had pictured her lost and alone and terrified. I envisioned her in the same situation as me. Fear for her had motivated me. Now I felt so…deflated. I almost relished pulling her from this fantasy back to cold reality.
“I got a call from Andy.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. Using Andrea’s nickname hurt. “She needs her room—”
“Did something happen at Baylor?” She sat upright. “Is she all right?”
No, Mom. She’s not. She’s never going to be all right again. “She’s fine.”
“Oh. Well.” Mom settled back into a relaxed position. “I have been here a few days. I can cut my trip short if she’s coming home for a visit.” A sharp frown cut across her face. “I haven’t seen Andrea in a long time. Years it feels like. Her poor parents. Andy’s class schedule must keep her busy.”
Baylor. Class schedule. Apparently, not all of this was pure memory. Andrea hadn’t survived to college age. Part of this illusion was threaded with Mom’s dreams for us and plans Andy and I had made together.
Suddenly, I had to find somewhere else to look. That’s when Rook caught my eye. He stood in the doorway, framed like a chilly memory of winter in summer’s heart. He noticed me watching and stepped out of sight.
How much of this was his doing? How much of the care shown to her was at his request? Bháin had argued with him before we left. Over this? Over her? Which one did I have to thank for keeping her blissfully unaware of her circumstances? Who was my heart softening toward? Rook? Or Bháin?
“Do you mind if I finish my drink first?”
Mom’s voice drew my attention back to her. “No. Go ahead. I’ll go hit the bathroom before we leave.”
While she settled in to wait for a drink I wasn’t sure would come, I crossed the shifting sand and stepped back into the hall. The sudden dimness after the full sunlight made me stagger. Strong hands grasped my upper arms until my eyes adjusted, guiding me until my back hit the wall and I steadied.
Rook loomed over me. I waited for the urge to rip him a new one, but it never showed.
I exhaled through my teeth. “We need to talk about how long this mind warp is going to last.”
His hands slid down to my wrists, fingers brushing fingers. “Forever unless you say otherwise.”
“The memories you pulled—” I began.
He shook his head. “That was Bháin’s doing.”
“Okay, the memories Bháin pulled aren’t good ones.” At his puzzled expression, I added, “She’s in there, thinking she’s on the beach where we used to live, waiting to drink with friends she doesn’t have anymore because I killed their daughter. When she snaps out of it, she’ll know it wasn’t real.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Mom deserved to know the truth. She deserved to know what had happened to us both. She was here because of me, and it was wrong for me to make this decision for her, but I had to make the call. I had to be strong enough for both of us.
“She goes on singles cruises sometimes.” I rubbed my forehead. “She would believe that. They board in Galveston. I think that’s half the reason she takes them, just to have an excuse to fly down.”
“Explain the concept to Bháin, and he will do the rest.”
I shifted so I could keep an eye on Mom. “How are we getting home?”
“I will escort you through the tether.” His voice softened. “Then I must return.”
“You got everything you wanted.” An edge of fresh anger crept into my tone.
His gaze held mine. “Not everything.”
“Word is spreading quickly,” Bháin reminded us. “If Thierry wants to cross realms unmolested, she must leave soon.” He leaned against the door, watching my mother while he spoke to me. “There will be those who seek to do you harm, those who you counted as friends before you chose a side.”
“I haven’t picked a side.” I scowled at him. “I’m the freaking interim Black Dog.”
“The Black Dog is impartial. It was understood you relinquished that title when you accepted your new appointment.” He glanced my way. “Whether you like it or not, you’re the Unseelie princess now.”
I set my jaw. Better to keep quiet than provoke him into lobotomizing my mom.
“You can take a vow of neutrality,” Rook said. “You can keep your position with the conclave, for now.”
“Those vows don’t come with an expiration date.” Once spoken, they were binding. The strange thing was, yes, I had Unseelie ties now, but I didn’t feel loyal to them. I felt faithful to myself, to my beliefs.
I guess I was my father’s daughter after all.
Would the conclave let me continue working or scream conflict of interest? How could I support Mom if I couldn’t work, let alone draw those bonus checks? I would have to give up my apartment with Mai and move back home, which would suck for all of us.
How could I leave Mom in a year when I had no idea how or if she could take care of herself? I mean, she could work, but she was settled into early retirement. She had no contacts in our area related to her old job, no prospects. Nothing but me.
“You are a wealthy woman.” Bháin eyed me with bemusement. “Why work at all?”
“I’m not wealthy.” Sweet as that dream was. “I’m just warming the seat of someone who is.”
He cracked a smile at that.
Rook eased between us. “We should discuss your living
arrangements.”
“I have an apartment. I had an upstairs neighbor once.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “You kind of remind me of him.”
Rook had the grace to flush. “You must be protected.”
“I will go with her.” Diode’s voice carried down the hall. “If you will grant me amnesty.”
The flatness of Rook’s lips led me to believe an argument was on the way.
I headed him off with a genuine smile for my guardian. “I accept.”
“Thierry…” Rook warned.
“I can take care of myself,” I told him calmly, “but I’ll take Diode as a precaution.”
He trailed his fingertips down my cheek. “I don’t want any harm to come to you.”
“I bet.” I stepped out of his reach. “Wouldn’t want to lose your regent status too soon, huh?”
Bháin touched my elbow, and a blast of ice-sharp pain shot up my arm. “We must hurry.”
“He’s right,” Rook agreed. “The longer you wait, the more time we give your enemies to prepare for your arrival. If an attempt is made on your life, it will happen when you cross realms.” Muscles bunched in his jaw. “Delaying your coronation will give you time to adjust, but you are at a greater risk in the mortal realm, where you are outside the protection of Faerie’s laws.” He appeared to debate what he said next. Those words came softly. “Seelie loyalists will stop at nothing to prevent your ascension.”
I wished them luck. “Then you better get started on all those goals you wanted to accomplish.”
A tic developed under his right eye. “Am I not allowed to worry about you?”
“Oh, I know you’ll worry.” I patted his cheek. “You’ll fret every day I’m not under your thumb for you to press when you need some other impossible task completed, but you don’t care about me.” His mouth opened. I slapped my hand over it and scowled. “Don’t go there, Rook. Just don’t, okay?”
Turning to Bháin, I gestured toward Mom. “Let’s do this. I want to go home.”
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