by Amy Sumida
“Oh, Fal,” I whispered as tears came to my eyes.
My son isn't exactly a grim child, but he isn't one prone to laughter either, and seeing him behave like a normal kid did something to my heart. This was what I wanted for him—to laugh and play and be a child. A little piece of me cringed whenever I saw him sitting with Tiernan, sternly focused on learning everything he needed to become a good king. I mean, yes, he should learn those things, but he should also play. Thank the Goddess that Latharna and Sorcha felt the same as I.
“Mommy!” Falcas cried, tearing at my heart even more.
Fal usually called me mother. “Mommy” was reserved for times when he was frightened. But he clearly wasn't frightened now. He was happy. Happy enough to forget that I was Mother.
“Falcas!” I shouted in a matching tone as I hurried forward. “Look at how high you are, baby! That's awesome.”
“I can kick the sky!”
Tiernan chuckled and went to kiss his mother and sister hello.
“Now, what's the sky ever done to you?” I teased him.
“I said I could. I didn't say that I would,” he shot back.
Now, that was more like Fal. He tended to speak like an adult.
“Well, keep going, baby,” I urged. “I'm going to be right over here with Daddy, Grandma, and Aunty Latharna.”
“Okay!” Falcas kept swinging.
“Oh, thank you!” I whispered to Latharna as I hugged her. Then I hugged Sorcha and repeated it, “Thank you.” I pulled back and glanced at Fal. “I haven't seen him laugh like that since the last time he visited Twilight.”
“He's a serious child,” Sorcha said with a tender smile, directed at her son. “His father was the same.”
“Really?” I asked in surprise.
Tiernan cleared his throat. “I was instructed to be such.”
A heavy silence fell. We all knew what that meant. Tiernan's dad must have been as hard on him as a child as he'd been on Tiernan when he was an adult.
“Then perhaps you should take a turn on the swing too,” I suggested, breaking the awkward silence.
The women laughed and Tiernan relaxed.
“Perhaps I will,” Tiernan agreed as he pulled me against his side. “If my wife will sit on my lap.”
“That doesn't sound comfortable,” I protested.
“Oh, I think I'd be very comfortable.” Tiernan nuzzled my cheek.
“We are right here,” Latharna reminded her brother, but she said it in a teasing tone.
The women were a mix of Tiernan in looks. Sorcha had her son's ombré hair—or, rather, he had hers—and Latharna shared Tiernan's silver eyes. Both women were pale, with delicate features and the slim build of the Sidhe. And they both loved my boys with all of their beings. So, of course, I couldn't help but love them as well.
Sorcha's mór was the Silverlight—a magic that transforms anything harmful, including other magic, into a benign silver glow. The Silverlight is the reason my husband is alive. When my grandmother, Queen Iseabal, attacked Sorcha, and Tiernan stepped between them to defend his mother, Iseabal had transferred her attack onto Tiernan. She would have killed him for his insolence in daring to protect his mother from his queen, but Sorcha had used the Silverlight to alter Iseabal's Bloodburn magic into a harmless glow. Except that the Bloodburn was damn powerful—powerful enough to make my grandmother Queen of Seelie—and Sorcha's magic couldn't counter all of it. The Silverlight blended with Bloodburn and pulled a Harry Potter—scarring my husband with silver swirls. Sorcha didn't pass on the Silverlight to either of her children; both Tiernan and Latharna got the Shadowcall as their mór.
“Oh, go and get yourself a lover, Latharna,” Sorcha chided her daughter.
“Mother!” Latharna cried while the rest of us giggled, even Falcas.
“I want another grandchild.” Sorcha crossed her arms.
“Well, since you said that, I'll get right on it,” Latharna huffed.
“Good.” Sorcha nodded.
“That was sarcasm, Mother,” Latharna said dryly.
“Yes, but you agreed so now, I can start looking for candidates,” Sorcha said deviously. “And I already have a few in mind.”
“Danu help me,” Latharna muttered.
“Mother, leave her be,” Tiernan defended his sister. “She's a marchioness now, suitors must be lining up.”
“They are, but Latharna refuses to give any of them a chance,” Sorcha huffed.
“Yes, I know. I was trying to say that if Latharna can't find a lover under such circumstances, then she doesn't want one,” Tiernan explained. “And you can't force her into some man's bed.”
“For one thing, that's illegal,” I muttered. “For another, it's terribly disturbing.”
Tiernan shot me a glance and I went silent.
“Aunty Latharna already has a lover,” Falcas announced brightly. “And she's wonderful.”
We all went still. Latharna's eyes closed on a groan as her mother's and brother's widened. I had to stop another giggle.
“I don't think you'll be getting more grandchildren from Latharna,” I said with the last of my control, then burst out laughing.
“This isn't funny, Seren,” Sorcha chided me.
“Oh, come on,” I grumbled. “You're fairies; it shouldn't matter to you that Latharna's lover is a woman.”
“It doesn't in the way that you're implying,” Sorcha said. “All I want is for my children to be happy. But Latharna is now a marchioness and she has duties.”
“Duties?” I asked. “Falcas, your aunt has dooties.”
“Eww, Mommy! That's not what Grandma meant.” Falcas said, then giggled.
It said a lot about Falcas' mood that he was even able to acknowledge what I'd meant. Normally, he would have said something like, “Mother, we all have duties we must attend to,” or some other stuffy nonsense that his father fills his head with.
“Yes, but when duty stinks, it becomes dooty. A big, smelly pile of it,” I declared.
“Ew!” Falcas exclaimed, then giggled again.
“Now,” I said in a softer tone so Fal wouldn't hear me, “what duty are we talking about?”
“Latharna is expected to make an effort to produce a child,” Tiernan explained. “It's necessary to have as many heirs as possible for every throne.”
“So, you're saying that just in case both of us and Falcan die, Latharna's child could take the throne?” I asked.
Tiernan grimaced. “Yes.” He held up a hand to stop my outburst. “Obviously, it's unlikely to happen in this current time of peace but if you consider the Fey's history, you have to admit that there's a good reason for multiple heirs.”
I thought about how many monarchs had been lost in fey wars and let out a long sigh. “All right, I admit that I get why it used to be necessary but it's not anymore. Let Latharna date whoever she wants to.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Latharna whispered in gratitude.
“You didn't have to get all stuffy with me,” I teased her. Then my gaze slid to Tiernan and I went still. “What?”
Tiernan's jaw had clenched and his eyes were flashing. “Seren, she replied formally because you just made a royal decree. Without consulting me. You, in fact, ordered me.”
“Oh,” I whispered. Then I grimaced at him. “You know that's not what I meant.” I turned to look at Latharna. “I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to decree anything, I was simply arguing on your behalf.”
Latharna's face fell but she nodded. “I understand.”
“But, hey, it's not over yet.” I nudged her. “Give me a second to talk to His Majesty.”
Latharna smiled wanly.
I took Tiernan's hand and pulled him away from his mother and sister. When we were far enough to not be overheard, I said, “Give me your reasons.”
“What?”
“You just accused me of ordering you around and we both know that's not something I would knowingly do,” I chided him. “You took offense when you shouldn't have
, and I'm assuming it's because I said all of that in front of your family. Now, I've just explained myself and we're alone. So, tell me why you don't want your sister to have a female lover.”
Tiernan sighed and ran a hand over his face. “You will think poorly of me.”
“I will never think poorly of you,” I argued. “Just tell me.”
Tiernan gave me a heavy look.
“Oh, fuck,” I whispered. “This is about us, isn't it? It's because of who we are and how we took the throne.”
“In a way,” he admitted. “I'm a new king who sits on the throne only because his wife won it for him—his wife who happens to be absent most of the time. I must be seen as strong, Seren. One hint of weakness and I will lose the tenuous respect I've gained.”
Fairies can be loyal and brave and heroic but they could also be little conniving, judgmental assholes. Danu had decreed that anyone who tried to hurt the peace in Fairy would suffer her wrath but disrespecting your King or Queen wasn't hurting the peace. And losing the respect of your court is a serious issue for a monarch. It wouldn't cost Tiernan his crown but it would make ruling Seelie very difficult for us both.
“And allowing Latharna to sleep with a woman will be seen as a weakness on your part,” I concluded.
Tiernan nodded. “They will think I've been too soft on my sister. She will be seen as stronger than me.”
“Shit,” I huffed.
Then I considered it. The Fey were about as open-minded as you could get when it came to sex. Public sex, orgies, gay, bi, straight, whatever and whoever you wanted to do was fine with them. Although, they did draw the line at bestiality. Not that they haven't done it but some of those who did, gave birth to monsters so horrific that they had to be committed to the Sluagh. Fairies generally don't like giving birth to future-members of the Sluagh so bestiality was frowned upon. But all other sex was fair game so the problem wasn't Latharna's choice of a female lover but rather her lack of a male one.
“What if Latharna takes a male lover as well?” I suggested.
Tiernan blinked. Considered it. “That would work. If she would agree to it.”
“Let's ask her.” I took my husband's hand and we went back to the waiting women and our happy son.
“You may keep your mistress,” Tiernan said. Latharna's face started to fill with joy until he went on, “But you must take a male lover as well and you must make an effort to conceive, Latharna.”
“I love her, Tiernan,” Latharna said softly. “I can't—”
“I love my wife,” Tiernan cut her off. “And yet I share her with three other men. I do it for Seren and our goddess and now, you must do this for me and your kingdom. I don't want to ask this of you but it's the only way I can allow you to keep your lover. And I want you to keep her, Sister. I want you to be happy. If she loves you as well, she will understand. It will only be until you conceive.”
Latharna sighed deeply and nodded. “Very well, Brother. I will do as you command.”
“As I ask,” Tiernan corrected as he laid a hand on Latharna's shoulder. “You may refuse but then I will be forced to consider other options.”
“Such as sending me away from court,” Latharna whispered.
“Yes.”
Latharna lifted her chin. “I will start looking tonight.”
“Thank you,” Tiernan said sincerely.
“I'm sorry that I couldn't do more,” I added.
“No, this is more than I expected.” Latharna mustered up a smile for me. “It's why I've hidden Gabrielle.”
“Well, the good news is that you don't have to hide her any longer,” I pointed out. “Maybe she could—I don't know—help you look? Maybe even join you in your... activities?”
Latharna blinked and then started to grin. “Maybe she will.”
Chapter Six
Dinner was always an event in Castle Seelie. Tiernan and I put on our Seelie crowns—circles of golden sunrays pointing upward, with one point at center-front slightly taller than the rest and capped with a gold sun—and donned our flashy royal clothes before we took our similarly dressed son to our extravagant dining hall.
Okay, the dining hall wasn't as extravagant as other parts of the castle. It was actually a beautiful, bright room and a nice place to have a meal. Roughly rectangular, it had the usual layout of most castle dining halls—long tables to either side of the room with a central aisle leading to a dais at the far end, upon which another table was set for the royals. But despite the familiar floor plan, the dining room was special. The entire room had been constructed with a semi-glossy, creamy-gold stone. The floors were bare but the rest of the room made up for that.
To either side, thick, square columns stood in military lines, their tops swinging out to either side in arches that connected them with their neighbors. Above those arches, on their flattened tops, another line of columns stood, slimmer than those below. Statues of Sidhe lords and ladies stood on platforms that jutted out in front of those slender columns. Above the statues, the slim columns spread into fluted tops that arched again, connecting to each other before meeting the ceiling that arched in the opposite direction. Yes, there was a lot of arching going on. The whole room had a domed look to it but it was a stretched, complicated dome whose smoothness was impeded by carvings of fabric-like swaths, curlicues, and lots of stylized suns.
Behind the stacked columns were mullioned windows that stretched to the ceiling and let in vast amounts of sunlight during the day. At the moment, they were dark, the moonlight too timid to compete with the multitude of fey orbs that hovered around the ceiling. Despite the darkness outside, the drapes had been left open, perhaps to display the beautiful starlit sky beyond. Except that with all of the light in the room, nothing could be seen past the glass—the windows had been turned into mirrors. Not that the Seelie minded; if there's one thing they enjoyed more than being surrounded by beauty, it was admiring their own beauty.
Past all of the windows and columns and long tables full of beautiful Sidhe, a few steps led up the dais to the high table, nestled in a private alcove. Another structural arch rose behind it to bubble into a half-dome carved with a giant, gilded sun. Beneath that stone sun, three smaller, golden suns capped the points of the royal thrones—two large thrones with a smaller one set between them. To either side of the thrones, two normal chairs sat—Sorcha in one and Latharna in the other.
Tiernan and I walked down the center aisle with Falcas walking somberly between us, and our fairies stood to bow and curtsy as we passed. They remained standing until we took our seats at the high table—Falcas between Tiernan and me—and then everyone went back to their conversations and wine.
I was on the left side of the table with Latharna beside me. I leaned over to ask her, “Did you speak to Gabrielle?”
“I did.” She smiled in the direction of a woman at a nearby table.
I followed her gaze and blinked. “Wow. She's beautiful.”
“Yes. In all ways,” Latharna said softly.
Gabrielle beamed back at her lover, her full red lips stretching thin. Long hair, in a color that matched those lips, curled down to her hips. Her body, though the typical willowy build of the Sidhe, exuded sensuality as much as her face exuded joy.
“She's okay with it?” I asked Latharna.
“She's thrilled that we get to be together publicly,” Latharna whispered. “For that, she's willing to welcome a man into our bed. In fact, she seemed to like the idea.”
“That's going to be one lucky man,” I drawled. In a more serious tone, I added, “I'm so relieved. I was worried that I'd made things worse for you.”
Latharna finally tore her gaze away from Gabrielle to look at me. “You fought for me, Sister. I will never forget that. Thank you.”
“Anytime.” I grinned back at her.
“Isn't Aunty Latharna's lady pretty, Mother?” Falcas asked me. “She has hair like Shahzy's.”
“Yes, baby, she's beautiful,” I agreed—a little sad that I was
back to being Mother. “I especially like her skin, it's such a pretty deep brown.”
“She's from the South of Seelie,” Latharna said. “They tend to be darker-skinned there.”
“The South?” I asked. “I just met Baron Drostan today. He's from the South as well.”