“I shall see that she is royally compensated for her trouble,” the queen said grandly. “She shall want for nothing!”
“Well, she’s actually all right now, though we did have some trouble with our landlord recently,” I said, blushing as I remembered the “trouble” with Mr. Groperson and how I had made it worse. “But that’s over now and she’s in a good place,” I added quickly. “So she really doesn’t need anything.”
“Nonsense!” the queen exclaimed. “She must and shall have a royal reward for raising and protecting my granddaughter and royal heir all these years.”
“Okay, well thanks. I mean, thank you very much,” I said politely. “Er…” I cleared my throat. “I have a question, though. I know who everyone is but this.” I pointed to the lovely young woman with dark hair and gold eyes still visible in the scrying bowl. “Who was my mother?” I asked the queen. “Did you know her?”
“Her? Oh, probably just a wood nymph from the Winter Court.” She waved a hand dismissively over the bowl and suddenly all the faces disappeared.
“So…you didn’t know her?” I asked.
“I am afraid not, my dear,” the queen said briskly, but somehow her eyes wouldn’t meet mine. “My son told me he had fallen in love with a girl from the Dark Lands and I’m afraid I was very angry with him. We do not allow their kind in the Summer Court, you know.”
“Their kind?” I frowned. That sounded pretty racist to me—if one kind of Fae could be racist against another kind. Which I supposed was possible.
“Yes. I sent him away in a fit of rage.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “You cannot imagine how much I regret that! Maybe he would be alive today if I hadn’t refused to let him wed the one he loved.” She stifled a sob and I felt sorry for her.
“You can’t saw sawdust,” I offered, which was something Mom always says when I’m kicking myself for something stupid I did or said.
“Excuse me?” The queen raised an eyebrow at me uncertainly.
“Oh—it’s a, uh, human expression,” I said. “It means, you can’t change the past, so it’s better to move on and just try to learn from it and do better in the future.”
“Well…” She sniffed and smiled at me. “That’s quite a wise saying, which surprises me since humans are usually so dull and stupid.”
“Um…” I didn’t know what to say to that.
There she went, being racist again. Maybe the Fae of the Summer Court just really detested anyone at all outside their own people.
“I was raised to think I was human until about two weeks ago,” I offered at last.
“But how foolish! Of course you could never be one of those awful creatures!” my grandmother exclaimed.
“Um,” I began, not sure what to say to that. But she was already onto another topic.
“Now, we must get you to my personal seamstress so we can get you a gown that’s suitable for tonight’s event!” she said briskly.
“Tonight’s event?” I asked, frowning.
“Why yes—when I proclaim you as my heir, my dear! And then, I suppose, we’ll announce the O’Connor boy as your consort,” she went on busily. “I’ll have to recall his father and family from exile, of course—which is quite all right, I have missed my head Councilor sadly since he went away. But once he returns, his son will be quite an acceptable match for you. So—”
“What about Lachlan?” I interrupted.
“Excuse me? Who?” She frowned at me.
“Lachlan—the other Fae boy I’ve been Marked by,” I said patiently. “I’m with him as much as I am with Bran.”
“I’m afraid, that’s unacceptable,” my dear,” the queen said firmly. “A queen cannot have two consorts, you know! And obviously, between the two of them, you’ll want to choose the O’Connor boy. He comes from a good family—a Summer Court family—which makes him the best match for you.”
“Well, I did meet him first,” I said. “But Lachlan—”
“Well, there you go then—the O’Connor boy was there first and he’s clearly the better match for you. It couldn’t be easier!” She patted my hand and smiled brightly. “Now come—we have a feast and a proclamation to prepare for!”
And she swept out of the room, motioning for me to follow behind her.
82
“Are you all right, little one?” Lachlan asked, when I finally managed to get away from the seamstress and the tailor and the shoemaker and the make-up artist, and all the other people the queen had brought in to make me look my best for the banquet that evening.
“Yes, you look tired,” Bran added, looking at me anxiously. He and Lachlan were camped out in front of the golden gates, both having refused to budge until they saw me again.
Airgead, they told me, was in the queen’s private paddock—a magical indoor field where only the greenest and most delectable grass grew.
“I think Her Highness was afraid he might make a mess in front of her gate,” Lachlan said, giving me his one-sided grin. “So he’s galloping around the paddock. We promised we’d bring you to see him as soon as you got free.”
“Got free is right.” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Wish I could! Let’s go see him now, can we?”
“This way,” Bran said, nodding. “You look like you’ve been run over by a charging bull.”
“I sort of feel like that too,” I admitted. “The queen is wonderful but, well…she’s a lot—you know?”
He nodded.
“You have the same look my father used to have after spending time with Her Majesty. She’s a force of Nature.”
“I’ve heard people use that expression before but it’s never been so applicable before,” I said.
“Bran is speaking literally, though, not metaphorically,” Lachlan said. “Queen Elia is closer to the Natural World—and therefore the Goddess—than almost any other Fae. It is why her power is so strong.” He nodded at me. “And yours as well. I take it you are related to her, little one?”
“She’s my grandmother,” I admitted.
We had reached the paddock by now and it really did look like we were outside. The magical globe overhead had been positioned and sized to look just like the sun and the “sky” around it was a clear, cloudless blue. The paddock itself was actually a vast meadow filled with lush green grass and dotted with wildflowers. Airgead was galloping through it, his mane and tail flying like silken banners in the wind.
I waved at him and when the brook horse saw me, he came tearing over, clearly enjoying himself.
“Never have I tasted such sweet grass, my Mistress!” he announced in his mental voice that only I seemed able to hear. “You should try some!”
“Thanks, Airgead, but I don’t want to fill up on grass before the banquet the queen is holding tonight,” I said dryly as Bran and Lachlan tried not to laugh.
“Suit yourself, my Mistress. I shall be here if you need me.” He nuzzled me briefly and blew his sweet-smelling breath in my face before galloping off again, his tail held high in enjoyment.