‘I believe that would be an accurate anthropological assessment,’ Twill replied in a rather resigned tone. ‘Happily, since I’m getting married tomorrow and there are threats to my life, I can decline any of the undoubtedly delightful offers I’ll be getting tonight.’
‘If Mis…’ Ishifa began and then stopped and started again. ‘If Ceridwyn can take you back to their rooms, Mistress, I’ll go down to the servants’ quarters and get myself ready.’
‘I think we can manage,’ Twill replied. Ishifa smiled and padded out across the thick carpet. ‘She’ll probably enjoy this evening more too,’ Twill added when they heard the door closed. ‘She’s good looking and of low rank. She would likely end up being passed around the guests and she’s in no position to decline them.’
‘But now she can say she has duties?’
‘Indeed, but someone will try it on. Keep an eye out for her, if you would.’
‘Of course. Fae wine doesn’t affect fairies, does it?’
Twill laughed, starting toward the door. ‘No, it doesn’t, aside from the normal way. She’ll likely be good about indulging herself though, she’s a dutiful sort of girl.’
‘How old is she?’ Ceri followed after her, prepping her spell to get down through the castle.
‘Uh… seventy-three. She came into service last year. Her family has a farm out on the edge of the estate. She’s the youngest of five and they didn’t need her on the land. I believe it was thought she could gain a proper education, and perhaps advance the family, by going into service.’
‘You know, I’ve spent the last several months in what could be considered as “feudal” societies, with Lily wandering around as my slave, and I still can’t get used to this whole servants and social distinctions business.’
‘It isn’t as if there are no social classes on Earth, dear. Being a servant here pays quite well. I believe Ishifa sends money home to her family. Mother likes people to be able to read and write, which is not always the case. If they get sufficiently good at the fae languages, she even has them learn English or Irish.’
‘So your mother isn’t all bad then?’
‘No,’ Twill replied, ‘but then again it does make them more useful when spying on guests.’
~~~
Lily had admired Twill’s paint job, but had waited until Ishifa turned up before declaring that this was a wonderful custom and why had no one told her going to the celebrations naked was an option? When Twill had shown her the drawer full of paint pots, however, she had just grinned.
‘That’s okay, I have a less messy alternative.’ Then she had looked between Twill’s design and Ishifa’s. The maid had a less complex design, more abstract, with swirls of purple and black replacing the leaves. The basic concept was the same, however; swirls highlighting the breasts and genitals. Her eyes narrowed. ‘Have you rouged your nipples, Ishifa?’ The maid squirmed a little. ‘And your labia?’ Ishifa went scarlet. ‘Naughty girl,’ Lily said, grinning, and then her skin changed.
It was another effect of having her demonic nature bolstered in the Demon Realm. True succubi were able to change their shape to match an ideal form for attracting their victims. Lily did not have the full power a succubus had; for one thing she could not change sex. However, she could manage skin pigmentation changes and a few more gross anatomical changes, like manifesting a tail. Now a pattern of roses began to grow up her legs, twining up over her hips, across her back and stomach, circling around her breasts and twining down her arms. In keeping with the other thematic structure, a pair of roses curled down on either side of the rune tattooed above her pubic mound.
‘Beautiful, Lily,’ Twill commented as the half-succubus gave a little twirl.
‘You’ve a tattoo too,’ Ishifa said. ‘Does that one signify something?’
‘That I belong to Ceri,’ Lily replied happily. ‘It’s her personal rune. When a demon gives their loyalty to a Lord, it’s common practice for them to be marked with the Lord’s sigil, and demonologists used to do it with bound demons. I had this put on me to show that I’m hers.’
Ishifa let out a huge sigh, her hands clasped in front of her. ‘That is so romantic.’
Lily giggled. ‘You are so cute. How long until the party starts?’
‘About an hour,’ Ishifa told her.
Ceri glanced at Michael, now dressed in the shirt they had found earlier and a pair of tight, black britches, and some rather nice black boots with studs pressed into the leather. ‘I’d better get dressed then. I think I should put on some make-up as well.’
‘I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you in make-up,’ Michael commented.
‘Because I don’t usually wear any. For the outfit Twill’s got me wearing, however, I think something suitably moody would be appropriate.’
~~~
The conversation dropped in volume, not quite dying away, but definitely quieting down as the bride’s party walked into the Great Hall, heading for the table at the end. The place had filled up as the sun started to set. There were a lot of Sidhe sat on the long benches beside the tables, and a lot of sprites and fairies sitting on the tables or on boxes on the benches. There was also food on the tables, a lot of meat and fruit, and what looked like plates of insects of various sorts laid out for the smaller fae. It was mostly the larger fae who were going quiet, but Ceri noticed that the conversation at the High Table was dropping away as they got closer.
She was sure that the Sidhe were going quiet because of her and Lily. Beautiful, naked, painted half-succubi often had that effect; no big surprise. From the looks Ceri had got from Michael and Lily, she suspected that she was looking pretty good too. Her dress covered the essential areas, but she was naked down both sides apart from three belts. It came with a long, fingerless glove for the left arm, and a short glove and armband for the right. She had added low-heeled, leather boots, and make-up. Her eyelids were shaded with kohl and her lips were painted a dark red. Around her brow was Gorefguhadget’s iron crown. Twill had told her she looked every bit the seductress-witch character she was supposed to be. Even without heels, her hips were swinging enough to make her skirt swish. Ceri felt good.
As for the High Table, that was a tossup between the advancing pair of women and the werewolf leading the way with Ishifa and Twill riding on his shoulders. Aderiel looked somewhat disapproving, perhaps because Ishifa was getting the same treatment as her daughter. The male fairy sitting beside her, resplendent in a paint design of white flowers, did not look so concerned. Actually, he was looking at Lily rather thoughtfully. Twill had said her father was keen on the girls, but Lily was probably a little too large for him.
‘Mother, Father,’ Twill said as they arrived, ‘I would like to introduce my bearers. Ceridwyn Brent, Lily Carpenter, Michael, and Ishifa Bushbottom.’ Ceri thought she heard a stifled squeak from Ishifa at being named as one of the sheelvhori. ‘Bearers, I’d like you to meet Thoranil and Aderiel Wintergreen, my parents.’
Lily dropped a precise curtsey, Michael bowed his head since anything else risked dislodging fairies, and Ceri decided that a bow was more appropriate under the circumstances. Aderiel appeared to be about to speak, but Thoranil bounced up to his feet. He was obviously a little older than his wife, there were more lines on his brow, but he looked as though he probably had no trouble in persuading young fairies to join him in bed still.
‘Welcome. Please join us.’ He spread an arm to indicate the vacant seats to his left.
Aderiel was not going to be stopped, however. ‘It’s sunset, dear. We were hoping one of our guests from such distant parts would light the hearth fire.’
Ceri smiled. Sure, get the trained monkeys to light the fire. ‘Of course. Lil, would you do the honours?’
Lily smiled as well. ‘Of course,’ she said, looking around at the large fireplace with its stack of logs. Lily was nowhere near the magician Ceri was, but her abilities had been enhanced by Barnes and the local magic field made it easier anyway. It took a few seconds of conce
ntration, then the tinder under the wood caught and flames began to rise up. Lily gave a little giggle and then followed the others around to sit at the table.
Ceri turned and smiled at Aderiel. ‘She loves lighting fires. I usually only do funeral pyres.’
Aderiel’s eyebrows went up at that, but she had other business to attend to. As the family matriarch, it was her duty to officially start the celebrations. She stood up and turned to the room. ‘Gentles all, we are gathered together to celebrate the coming of Spring and, tomorrow, the wedding of Joshia Darksun to my daughter, Gloriandel. The sun is set, the fires are alight. Let the festival commence!’
There was a cheer from the assembled fae and the eating and drinking began in earnest. There were, Ceri noticed, no servants tonight. It seemed that the entire population of the castle, staff, family, and guests, were sat at the tables. For tonight there was little distinction between the various social classes, though the family was at the High Table and the guests occupied one of the long tables. There was no real mixing, but everyone was involved.
Ceri took the opportunity to take a proper look at their hosts and what guests she could see. If you included Twill, sat with her bearers at one end of the table, all ten of the Wintergreen children were there. So were four fairies who were married to them, one woman and three men. They all seemed happy enough, though the three husbands appeared to be sucking up to Aderiel and Thoranil quite a lot. The suspicion that they had married into money and needed to cement their hold on it was quite strong.
There was one of the children who seemed more interested in Twill and her friends then the others. She was introduced as Oleander, the eldest daughter of the family. She was still unmarried and had an outlook more like Twill’s than that of their mother. Ceri caught her looking sadly at Twill a couple of times during the evening, as though she felt sorry for her younger sister.
Down at the other end of the table, the Darksun’s were getting into the celebration of Spring quite enthusiastically. All except for Joshia and one of his older brothers who Ceri guessed was Briarin. Joshia actually looked quite depressed, definitely not like someone getting married the following day. Briarin seemed tense, annoyed at times. Despite the fact that Briarin was supposed to be one of Joshia’s bearers the two never seemed to speak to each other.
Over on the long table, the Summerglens seemed quite obvious; they were the ones looking daggers at the Wintergreens. Still, they had been given a place at the nearest end of the table, which either indicated that the Wintergreens did not consider them a threat or that they were putting on a show of defiance. Or maybe that they wanted to keep an eye on them.
Then again it appeared that the table had been organised such that the Seelie occupied one end and the Unseelie the other. In the middle was Ophelia, chatting with three other fae who Ceri guessed also belonged to House Silvershield. It appeared that they were there to act as a buffer between the Seelie fae and the more militant Unseelie. Considering that Lily had described Ophelia as a “murderous bitch” and the woman had more or less admitted to disposing of her last husband, it gave a rather poor impression of the others.
Closest to the door were a group of four Sidhe dressed in black leather which could have been armour. Even from the other end of the room Ceri could make out the black corruption twisting around the Chakral Median of one of them. The man was heavily in the debt of some demon. The others looked clean from where she was sitting; maybe Sheerans, Twill had said they were the warrior side of the partnership.
‘So, you really never knew who my sister really was?’ The question came out of nowhere and Ceri blinked, looking down to see Oleander looking up at her. ‘You never even suspected?’
‘We knew she was hiding from something. She had her secrets, but we respected her privacy. I knew if we needed to know she would tell us. I suppose I should have worked it out when I found out that “Gloriandel Wintergreen” had given us her protection, but we just had the name of some mysterious fae.’
Oleander nodded. ‘She gave up a lot for you.’
Ceri nodded in turn. ‘I know. If there was any way I could change that, I would.’
‘She told you not to, didn’t she?’ Oleander clearly knew her sister quite well.
‘She… asked us not to do anything in a very assertive manner, yes.’
There was a tinkle of wind chimes and Oleander gave a small smile. ‘She was always strong willed. Never afraid to speak her mind. Of course, that’s why she ran away.’ The smile turned into a smirk. ‘I heard you calling her “Twill” earlier?’
‘Uh-huh. That’s what she introduced herself as. We’ve been calling her that for five years.’
‘Twill was the name of a firefly she had as a pet when she was a child.’
‘I loved that bug,’ Twill called out. It would have been cute if she was not holding half of some sort of hard-shelled insect and a small, spoon-like fork which she was using to scoop out the meat.
‘Well,’ Oleander said, ‘I’m only going to start calling you Twill when your bottom lights up.’
Wind chimes and laughter filled the air. It was a party, there was supposed to be laughter, but Ceri caught a disapproving look from Aderiel. Beyond her Joshia sat, not eating, and looked on with sadness in his eyes.
~~~
With most of the food gone, the people started to mix more. Ceri noticed the Silvershield diplomats moving through the crowd making sure that no one got into any arguments, but mostly it seemed that this was the time where assignations were made for later. The pixies were out and about doing their best to snag a fairy for the evening’s entertainment, and they were concentrating mostly on the Wintergreen staff. While the males seemed more forward, the females were flirting and teasing almost as much. Ishifa was sticking close to Michael and Twill, and the ploy seemed to be working since few of the sprites were willing to come near the werewolf.
There were relatively few fae the size of Master Loram, and they were gathered together in one corner. Twill had mentioned that fairies were the smallest trooping fae. Most of the smaller fae were solitary, so it made sense that they would stick to their own kind.
The Sidhe were acting pretty much like humans at a dinner party. Maybe a swinger party, Ceri thought, rather than a more genteel affair. There was more, and more obvious, flirting, but they seemed to be avoiding the little group around Twill, which suited Ceri fine. The Unseelie looked a little over-eager, and the Seelie were too up their own arses. Actually, the Unseelie looked more pleasant than the Seelie, though the only ones Ceri might have considered entertaining where the Silvershields.
It was getting close to midnight when Lily nudged Ceri’s elbow and nodded toward the group of fae who had gravitated close enough to be within audible range. There were the four Arakets and a couple of others who seemed to be from the Seelie end of the table. Ceri glanced at Michael, knowing he would be aware of the potential threat and happy to see that his eyes were on them, even as he appeared to be paying attention to Ishifa, who had had more than a little wine and was distinctly giggly. Ceri concentrated on the magician.
At this range her Sight showed the dimmed glow of an active Chakral Median and the spark of energy which occupied the Sidhe’s stomach area; the energy reserve fae used to fuel their powers and magic. Both Twill and Ishifa had the same energy reserve, and the Sidhe’s was no brighter than theirs. He was probably quite a powerful practitioner, but he relied heavily on his patron demon for that power rather than his own abilities.
‘Surprising that they’d let a dog in here.’ Ceri’s eyes flicked to the speaker, one of the Arakets, the only female in the group. ‘Perhaps we should get a collar and leash.’ The volume was calculated to be loud enough that they could hear it and quiet enough that they were not supposed to. Ceri heard Michael snort; he was used to the behaviour of humans, behaviour Ceri always found incredibly annoying.
‘She’s trying to get Michael to respond.’ It was Ophelia, behind Ceri and whispering in her ear.
‘She doesn’t know him very well,’ Ceri replied quietly, not turning her head.
‘It’s doubtful she’s ever met a human, never mind a werewolf. She’s hoping he’ll say something. Since she’s female it would give her companions the opportunity to call for a duel. Since you’re female, and his mate…’
Ceri was really starting to like the Unseelie, but she might be trying to cause trouble. On the other hand Twill was looking up at Ceri and nodding. And the fairy was wearing a malicious sort of grin. Ceri looked back at the Araket Sidhe, catching her eyes and giving her the kind of smile tigers gave lunch. Lifting her hand, Ceri beckoned the woman over.
‘Her name is Bolinda,’ Ophelia murmured before backing away.
Bolinda pulled herself up straight and swaggered closer. ‘Is there something I can do for you, human?’
Ceri felt anger swelling and did not try to keep it off her face. She leaned forward and Bolinda pulled back slightly, shock showing on her face. ‘My mate,’ Ceri said softly, ‘is quite used to ignorant people making insults at his expense. He gives them all the attention they deserve, none. Unfortunately, I’m not as tolerant. And I’m not human.’
The Sidhe’s throat bobbed as she tried to maintain her composure. ‘My apologies, Lady. I meant no offence.’
‘Yes you did. Now take your little gaggle of playground bullies and find someone else to annoy.’
Bolinda backed away and Ceri sat up straight, blinking and then turning to smile at Twill. The fairy was frowning. ‘What did you do with your eyes?’
‘Huh?’
‘They… changed. The pupils shrank and there was a lot more blue in them, and they glowed…’
‘It’s when you get angry,’ Lily said. ‘Maybe when you use a lot of power. At least the glowing. It was happening a lot when we were on the demons’ world.’
‘They did?’ Ceri slumped slightly. ‘Another change? Great.’
‘I’m not surprised she was scared,’ Twill said. ‘You looked scary.’ Her lips twitched. ‘You’ve no idea how hard it was to stop myself laughing.’
Thaumatology 11 - For Whom the Wedding Bells Toll Page 4