Aside from the constant attempts at entertainment, Dorian also decided he would educate himself on the technicalities of labor and delivery in the human world. Considering my own haphazard knowledge of such matters, I wasn’t sure I was the best source, but he insisted that if I was going to keep touting the need for a human doctor, he needed to understand why.
“So what exactly do they do when you have these doctor’s visits?” Dorian asked. “They seem pretty frequent.”
We were outside, taking in the nice weather, about a week after I’d last seen Roland. “Well,” I said, “they, um, check my vitals. Like blood pressure and stuff like that.”
“Blood pressure?”
“It’s kind of like your pulse. But kind of not,” I said lamely. Yeah. I really wasn’t the best person to be explaining medical lingo.
Dorian leaned back against a tree. “Well, any of our healers could do that for you. I could do it for you even.”
“It’s more complicated than that. And sometimes, I have ultrasounds at my appointments.”
“Ultrasounds?”
And so went the rest of our conversation, with me having to constantly stop and explain what I’d just said. Each time, Dorian had some gentry equivalent for whatever I described. Some were more far-fetched than others, like when he said he was certain gorging on cake all day would achieve the same results as a blood-sugar test. He also had a very complicated explanation about how balancing a chicken in a tree was a well-established gentry method of determining gender. I was almost certain he knew there was no real equivalent to half the things I told him about and that he was making most of this up on the spot. He was simply trying to entertain me with the outlandish. Describing a C-section, however, brought his quips to a halt.
“I don’t really know what to say about that,” he told me honestly. “It seems very extreme. And dangerous.”
“Maybe here it would be,” I said, thinking of the gentry aversion to metal. A scalpel might as well be a sword. “Among humans, it’s a pretty safe and standard thing. Saves a lot of lives—though I’d rather avoid it if I can. I don’t want a scar.”
Dorian considered. “Actually, that’s the only part I can understand. Why not wear a scar of motherhood? Better than a tattoo or some other mark of honor. Let the world know what you’ve achieved.”
I stretched out on my side in the grass. “I’d rather just let the kids speak for themselves.”
He smiled and let the subject go. “There’ve been no more attacks on Eugenie lookalikes, by the way. It seems Maiwenn has more restraint than we thought.”
“That’s good,” I said. The guilt over Ansonia still haunted me. “Beyond good. So you don’t need to raze her kingdom just yet?”
“Not quite yet, no. Though I nearly would for what she’s put you through.” I think he meant it. After all, he’d once run a guy through to defend my honor.
“Well, I’m still doing okay. That’s what counts.”
Dorian shook his head. “There are lots of ways to be ‘okay.’ We haven’t made a science of stress like you humans have, but even I know all this worry can’t be good for you. It’s not just your body I want safe. I also want you to be—”
Whatever he wanted was lost as a guard came and announced that Roland was here. The lazy, funny atmosphere with Dorian vanished. A mix of emotions warred within me as I realized what this meant. My days of procrastination were over. Part of me was happy to finally get things rolling. It would ensure the greater good for everyone. The rest of me—the cowardly part—dreaded the consequences that would soon unfold. Dorian wore a kind, sincere look, and I could barely meet his eyes as I mumbled an apology and hurried off to talk to Roland.
“You found a place,” I said, once Roland and I were alone.
“I did.” He glanced around nervously. I’d taken him to my bedroom, not wanting to risk even my discreet bodyguards overhearing something. Still, Roland regarded the room as suspect, as though perhaps there were magical ears within the walls. “Though I’d rather not tell you where until the last minute.”
“That’s fair,” I said, despite the curiosity that burned within me.
“I can tell you that it’s a town that has a shaman on hand—and old friend of mine that I trust implicitly. She doesn’t know your exact story, of course, but she understands there’s some danger. She’s more than willing to defend you if necessary.” He smiled wryly. “And hopefully she’ll remove any temptation you have to do shamanic housecleaning. You see something going on, you just tell her.”
The next most complicated part was figuring out how to get me to this secret location. The Otherworld lined up with the human world in a very rough way. It wasn’t an exact match, but gates had a geographic similarity. For example, there was a favorite crossing spot of mine in the Thorn Land that led back to Tucson. One kingdom over, in Dorian’s land, there was a gate that opened in New Mexico. Another nearby one went to Texas. That’s how it was in this region of the Otherworld; most crossings led to the American Southwest. That was why I’d had to travel to the Honeysuckle Land to reach the Ohio gate. Roland didn’t elaborate, but from what I could gather, his safe house was not in the Southwest, meaning I’d have to travel far in either this world or the human one.
We worked out a reasonably convoluted plan, and then he left again in that way of his, off to make sure everything was in place back on the other side. The plan was for me to leave tomorrow, which was frighteningly close. But in this situation ... well, the sooner things were implemented, the better.
That evening, not long after Roland had departed, I received a message from one of my servants that Dorian wished to see me in his chambers. I almost laughed at that. It was so typical of him to send me a summons in my own castle, as though he were the ruler here, not me. On the other hand, I wondered with dread what this could be about. Despite all our precautions, had he somehow found out about my plan with Roland? Had Jasmine cracked? Had there been magical ears in the walls after all?
Entering Dorian’s rooms, I found nothing so sinister. Like most of the larger guest suites in the castle, his consisted of a separate bedroom and sitting chamber. The latter had been arranged with an elaborate table for two, complete with a gold silk tablecloth and candelabra featuring a weird, branching style that seemed to defy all laws of physics. Under normal circumstances, a setup like this would’ve instantly made alarms go off in my head as I tried to figure out what ploy Dorian had going on. My anxiety over tomorrow’s adventure, however, superseded my normal wariness.
He was already seated and gestured me to the chair opposite him. He eyed me as I sat. “I’d so been hoping you’d wear something a bit more formal. Velvet and lace, perhaps. With a plunging neckline, naturally.”
“Naturally,” I said. I was in jeans and a T-shirt that was one size larger than what I used to wear, no thanks to my expanding waist. “Maybe next time you should let me know this is a formal occasion.” A servant swept in through the door I’d just entered, no doubt having waited until my arrival. He set down a platter of quichelike tarts and then scurried off. “What is the occasion anyway?”
Dorian sighed dramatically. “A sad one, I’m afraid. Tomorrow. . . I’m leaving.”
“You are?” For a moment, hope surged in me as I toyed with the idea of sneaking off when he wasn’t even around. I wouldn’t have to tell him my plans at all.
“Indeed.” He swirled around a glass of red wine. For once, he hadn’t harassed me about drinking any. “I’ve enjoyed my time here in your delightful company, but it’s time I look to my own kingdom. I also intend to increase security near my borders to discourage that bitch from taking liberties with my people again. Just in case.” “That bitch,” of course, was Maiwenn.
I picked up one of the quiches. It was heavy with cheese, just the way I loved them. “You just said earlier that you thought she had restraint and wouldn’t attack again.”
“I do,” he said. “I think her people truly did act in error with Ans
onia. Even if they didn’t, maybe she decided using a scare tactic that attacks innocents is too savage. But it doesn’t matter whether they’ve stopped or not. There was still an incursion on my land, and I have to show I won’t allow it again. Maybe I won’t raze her lands, but I’ll certainly protect mine.”
The mention of “innocents” made me think of Kiyo. He hadn’t hesitated to come after the innocents that were his own children, but I could see him being responsible for preventing further mix-ups from Maiwenn’s people. I was certain he would put a halt to a scare tactic that would endanger those not involved in our dispute. I didn’t want to think well of him, not after everything that had happened, but I knew his style.
Course after course of succulent finger foods came, and we were eating olives stuffed with herbs when Dorian said, “I have another surprise for you.” As though on cue, two servants entered. Between them, they were carrying ... a crib.
I jumped up before they even had a chance to leave. I stared at the crib in wonder. “What is this?”
“What do you think?” asked Dorian, looking very pleased. “Your little warriors need a place to sleep, don’t they?”
I supposed they did, but I honestly hadn’t given it much thought. Nursery décor and baby registries had been kind of the last things on my mind. I ran my hand along the smooth surface of one of the rails. The entire thing had been carved out of golden oak and polished to brilliance. Elaborate designs of animals and plants had been worked into the wood with painstaking care. Knowing what I did about the gentry, I didn’t doubt that most of this had been made by hand.
“This is ... exquisite,” I said at last.
“There’s another one coming, but it’s still in progress. I wanted to show you this one before I left and see if you approved.”
“I ... yes. How could I not?” I was still in awe at the gift and felt a lump forming in my throat. Whether my emotion was from the thought of a tiny sleeping form inside that crib or simply because of Dorian’s kindness, I really couldn’t say.
“Excellent,” he said, pouring more wine. “I suppose we’ll have to have a number of them made, eh? No doubt you’ll be hauling those poor children around to both your kingdoms—and to mine, of course. I can hardly spoil them if they don’t visit.”
I nodded and muttered something in the affirmative. We finished that course, but I was still too overwhelmed to say much that was comprehensible. The last serving of the night was dessert, and I could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw it. It was an elaborate chocolate cake, artfully decorated in the kind of fanciful icing designs the gentry loved. Hazelnuts and chocolate shavings added to the aesthetics, along with ...
“Are those ... are those pieces of Milky Way?” Even before the words were out of my mouth, I knew I was right. Chopped up and worked in with the rest of the confectionary wonder were bits of my favorite candy bar. “How on earth did you get those?” Even the gentry had magical limits.
“Young Pagiel acquired some on a recent jaunt to the human world. I remembered how you’d been wanting some.” Some warning in my brain said I should be alarmed that Pagiel had made an unauthorized crossing and had managed to “acquire” human goods. I wasn’t optimistic about his cash resources. “Serving them as-is seemed so primitive, so I had the cook find a more elegant method of preparing them.”
“I can’t believe you did this.” I watched as Dorian sliced the cake, thinking it was a shame to mar such beauty. “Why ... why did you? What do you want?”
Dorian set a piece of cake on my plate and gave me a look that seemed legitimately perplexed. “Nothing. Well, except to make things pleasant between us again. As I was starting to tell you earlier, I want more than your safety. I want you to be happy. I feel justified in most of my actions—most. There are some affairs I haven’t treated you well in, and I want to rectify that. This cake is by no means the answer, but if we could manage any sort of trust again ...” He glanced away briefly, displaying a vulnerability I hardly ever saw in him. “Well. That would make me happier than you can imagine.”
Tears threatened to well up in my eyes. Fucking hormones. I cast a quick glance at the crib before returning to the cake again. I couldn’t take it anymore. “I-I’m leaving,” I blurted out. “I’m leaving the Otherworld.”
Dorian’s face didn’t alter in expression as he studied me. “Oh? You found some acceptable but dubiously safe new doctor? I’m telling you, the chicken would be much simpler.”
“No,” I said, feeling miserable. If we could manage any sort of trust again, that would make me happier than you can imagine. Why had he said that, of all things? “For good. Or, well, for a while.” I explained to him what I’d worked out with Roland, and throughout it all, Dorian’s face still remained damnably calm. I almost wished he’d flip into some burst of rage or mockery. Instead, once I’d finished, his reaction was minimal.
“Well,” he said, setting his fork down beside an uneaten piece of cake. “That is unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate? That’s all you have to say?” I wasn’t trying to provoke a fight; I was just surprised.
He paused to sip some wine. “What else is there? It sounds like everything’s in place. And clearly you’ve made up your mind if you’ve been planning this behind my back all week.”
“Is that what bothers you?” I asked. “That I didn’t tell you?”
At last, the hint of a smile—but it was a bitter one. “Ah, Eugenie. There are so many things that bother me about this, it’s hard to know where to start. I suppose it was foolish of me to try talking about trust again, eh? We’re as far from that as ever.”
I felt a mix of guilt and anger. “Hey, you’re the one who started it! If you hadn’t tricked me into the Iron Crown—”
He gave a melodramatic sigh. “Not this again. Please. At least find some other grievance to lay at my feet. That crown saved lives, and you know it.”
“You withheld the truth from me.”
“And you’ve withheld this news of your departure from me all week,” he pointed out. “One standard for me and another for you?”
“I’m not a hypocrite,” I said, even though I kind of was. “Not telling you this doesn’t have nearly the impact of the Iron Crown! You just don’t like being left out.”
“Like I just said, there’s a lot more to it than just that,” he said coldly. “Like you thinking obscurity is an adequate substitute for the protection of some of the greatest magic users in this world.”
“Like yourself?” I guessed.
“Of course.” Modesty was never a virtue Dorian really prized. “Do you think I wouldn’t rip the earth up around anyone who tried to lay a hand on you?”
“No, but I don’t think you can always be nearby.”
“I could be,” he countered. Some of his earlier anger eased. “I’ll stay here in your lands permanently. Oh, I’ll have to make the occasional jaunts back to the Oak Land, but far better me traveling than you. Unless, of course, my hair leads to another case of mistaken identity.” He tossed some of that glorious auburn hair over one shoulder to make his point. “Of course, with my rugged and manly features, it seems unlikely that kind of error would occur.”
“It’s not realistic,” I said, not falling prey to his charm. “And really, I do think this other plan is the safest option.”
“Yet I won’t have any idea if you actually are safe. You’ll be lost among humans.”
“You sound like Jasmine.”
He sniffed. “Who knew? It appears she and I finally agree on something.”
Unlike Jasmine, though, no amount of arguing convinced him of the plan’s soundness. He didn’t try to talk me out of it; he just stubbornly refused to endorse it. And, as I continued laying out my now well-worn arguments, I could see that patient mask of his growing thinner and thinner. This decision really did agitate him, though I couldn’t entirely figure out what bothered him the most. At last, he stood up and cut off some point he was making.
“My dear, t
his is a waste of time for both of us. We’re going to have to agree to disagree, and really, I see no point in my continued presence. It’s time for me to go home.”
“Tonight?” I asked, standing as well.
“Why not?” He reached for a cloak that was draped over a small table. “As I said before, I’m not the one in danger. I’d thought to stay until tomorrow to enjoy more of your company, but it seems that’s futile now.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” I said petulantly.
Dorian approached the door. “Who says I am?”
“You,” I said. I would’ve smiled if anything about this was funny. “Everything about you right now. Your face, your tone, your body language. You’re pissed off. I knew you would be. But you can’t really fault any of my reasoning.”
“No, I suppose I can’t,” he agreed. He reached the door and regarded me expectantly.
“It’s better this way,” I said, desperately wanting him to endorse this. “And it’s easier on you.”
He chuckled. “Do you think that matters? Eugenie, what’s ‘easy’ is of no consequence when it comes to you. I would do anything for you—anything at all—if it only meant you’d—” He cut himself off and abruptly turned away, resting his hand on the door’s handle. Yet still he didn’t leave.
A bizarre thought came over me, one that made my heart stop for a moment. All this time, I’d assumed Dorian just found me entertaining in his usual perverse way, that he’d liked my attentions and the prestige of being connected to my children. But I’d figured any romantic attachment had died after the Iron Crown. Now ... now I knew I was wrong.
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