A Shiver of Light
Page 27
“Would you have returned us to our former dark glory if you could have chosen, Meredith?”
The fall of petals began to slow, but my lap was full of them already. “I do not know, and that is the truth. I had no affection for the court of my uncle; if I had a home in faerie it was the Unseelie Court, and as you remind me, my uncle has made me dread his court even more. So no, aunt, I would not make the Unseelie Court over into that glittering place of lies.”
My pulse had sped, not from Andais being so close, but from the thought of Taranis. I mercifully didn’t remember most of the attack, but I remembered enough.
Frost and Doyle both laid a hand on my shoulders at the same time. Sholto and Mistral each laid a hand on mine, and I took their hands. Galen went to one knee beside me, his leg almost brushing Kitto, who had remained motionless and still as the footstool he pretended to be, so still that I had almost forgotten him. He had the gift of being that still even when standing beside me. Galen laid his hands on my knee through the layer of petals. He gazed up at me, giving most of his back to the mirror. It was both an insult and a sign that he didn’t see her as a threat, or it would have been if one of the other men had done it, but it was Galen and I doubt he thought beyond comforting me. Rhys had taken a half-step forward, so that his hands were free if she was as rash as Taranis had been when he got angry over a mirror call. Galen seemed oblivious to the danger. He had not changed completely. I was both relieved and afraid of what I would find when I raised my eyes from his sweet face to look at my aunt.
I expected anger, disdain, but what I saw was pain, and the closest I’d ever seen to sympathy except when my father died. “It was not my intent to remind you of what he did to you, niece. Our lawyers have told me of what the Seelie king is trying to do, and for that I am sorry, Meredith. I believe Taranis is madder in his own way than I am, or was. At least I come to my senses. He lives in his delusions.”
“I appreciate your sentiments, Aunt Andais, more than I can say.”
“I made a bargain with you, Meredith, that if you produced a child I would step down for you. Now you have produced three. It is beyond my wildest hopes. I also know that there are two babes from other couplings in your exiled court; again it is more than I hoped for. Come home, Meredith, and the throne is yours, for I gave my word and I cannot go back upon it.”
Galen’s hand tensed against my knee; the rest of the men went very still where they touched me. Rhys stayed in his forward position. I felt the guards at our backs shift as if a wind had touched them. Turning down Andais never went well.
I fought to keep my voice even. “I do not believe that I would live long upon your throne, Aunt Andais. There are still too many among our court who see my mortal blood as the doom of them all.”
“They would not dare harm you for fear of me, just as they have not harmed me during my madness for fear of worse from me, Meredith.”
There was a certain logic to what she was saying, but in the end I believed I was correct. “To rule either court, the nobles must take oath to the new ruler, and bind themselves to her or him. At our court it is a blood oath, and I proved on the dueling grounds that to share my blood made my opponents mortal.”
“That was unexpected when you killed Arzhul.”
“He certainly did not expect the blood oath to make him killable by bullet, or he would never have allowed me a gun against his sword.”
She smiled, and looked satisfied. “You were always ruthless, Meredith; why did I not see your worth sooner?”
“You hated my mixed blood as much as any in court, Aunt Andais.”
“You’re not going to bring back up the time I tried to drown you when you were six, are you? It’s very tiresome to be reminded of it, and I would take it back if I could.”
“I appreciate that you would take it back, but your belief that I am not worthy to be an Unseelie noble, let alone rule there, is shared by many at the court. They fear taking oath to me, Aunt Andais, for fear that my mortality will cancel out their immortality permanently. Since I cannot promise them it will not happen just as they fear, I think they will choose my death over theirs, or worse, my death over slowly aging like a human.”
“For fertile wombs, Meredith, you might be surprised how many would accept you.”
“I think that not all the sidhe at your court are as wedded to having children as you are, aunt.”
“Perhaps, but have I proved myself calm enough to be allowed a glimpse of my great-nieces and nephew?”
I fought the urge to look at Doyle for reassurance. Rhys glanced back at me and gave me the look I needed. He thought she had been good enough to see the babies, or at least hadn’t done anything bad enough to not have earned a glimpse of them. I gave a small nod and then said, “Yes, we will have the babies brought into the room so you may see them tonight, Aunt Andais.”
I worded that last carefully, because if I had said, You may see the babies, she could interpret it as being allowed to come visit in person, and that she hadn’t earned yet.
I gave the order for the babies to be brought into the room. One of the guards went to fetch our nurses and our children to be paraded before their great-aunt, who had nearly killed me when I was little because she thought me not pure-blooded enough, like a mongrel puppy that your prize-winning bitch had dropped. You didn’t keep the mistakes, and Andais had seen me as that, or worse. My father had found us, rescued me, fought with his sister, and taken me and all his courtiers with him into the human world. He had chosen exile to keep me safe. I didn’t understand what it had cost him until I spent my own three years alone and exiled, hiding here in Los Angeles. My father had loved me dearly; my aunt … didn’t love me at all. How could I ever trust her around our babies? The answer was obvious: I couldn’t.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
BRYLUEN FIT IN my arms as if she had been made to tuck into the curve of my elbow. I lowered my face over that tiny face; the dark ginger of her eyelashes lay on her alabaster skin like decoration, almost too perfect to be real. I’m told all mothers think their babies are beautiful; how do you know if you’re seeing the truth, or it’s some illusion made of love and baby hormones? There are types of glamour that have nothing to do with faerie and everything to do with love.
Galen had taken Gwenwyfar in his arms, and then sat back down by my legs, careful not to bump my “footstool” so that Kitto wouldn’t move and ruin his safe pass before the queen. Sholto held Alastair, but stayed standing beside my chair. He rocked the baby automatically when Alastair started to fuss. Once he believed that Bryluen was his, he had joined in caring for all the babies, as if, one being his, they were all his.
“You forget how very tiny they are,” Andais said, and her voice was softer, gentler than any time I’d ever heard her.
I looked up and realized that I’d forgotten she was there; for just a moment there had been nothing but the baby in my arms and my feeling of utter contentment. I’d discovered that sometimes being around the triplets was like being drugged with something slow and pleasant, but I hadn’t expected the effect to continue with my aunt still on the “phone.”
“I remember that look from when Cel was little. He always had that effect on me to a certain extent. Looking at you now, I wonder if it was more than just motherly affection.”
The fall of petals began to slow, but my lap was full of them already. “I do not know, and that is the truth. I had no affection for the court of my uncle; if I had a home in faerie it was the Unseelie Court, and as you remind me, my uncle has made me dread his court even more. So no, aunt, I would not make the Unseelie Court over into that glittering place of lies.”
My pulse had sped, not from Andais being so close, but from the thought of Taranis. I mercifully didn’t remember most of the attack, but I remembered enough.
Frost and Doyle both laid a hand on my shoulders at the same time. Sholto and Mistral each laid a hand on mine, and I took their hands. Galen went to one knee beside me, his leg almost brushing Kitto, who had remained motionless and still as the footstool he pretended to be, so still that I had almost forgotten him. He had the gift of being that still even when standing beside me. Galen laid his hands on my knee through the layer of petals. He gazed up at me, giving most of his back to the mirror. It was both an insult and a sign that he didn’t see her as a threat, or it would have been if one of the other men had done it, but it was Galen and I doubt he thought beyond comforting me. Rhys had taken a half-step forward, so that his hands were free if she was as rash as Taranis had been when he got angry over a mirror call. Galen seemed oblivious to the danger. He had not changed completely. I was both relieved and afraid of what I would find when I raised my eyes from his sweet face to look at my aunt.
I expected anger, disdain, but what I saw was pain, and the closest I’d ever seen to sympathy except when my father died. “It was not my intent to remind you of what he did to you, niece. Our lawyers have told me of what the Seelie king is trying to do, and for that I am sorry, Meredith. I believe Taranis is madder in his own way than I am, or was. At least I come to my senses. He lives in his delusions.”
“I appreciate your sentiments, Aunt Andais, more than I can say.”
“I made a bargain with you, Meredith, that if you produced a child I would step down for you. Now you have produced three. It is beyond my wildest hopes. I also know that there are two babes from other couplings in your exiled court; again it is more than I hoped for. Come home, Meredith, and the throne is yours, for I gave my word and I cannot go back upon it.”
Galen’s hand tensed against my knee; the rest of the men went very still where they touched me. Rhys stayed in his forward position. I felt the guards at our backs shift as if a wind had touched them. Turning down Andais never went well.
I fought to keep my voice even. “I do not believe that I would live long upon your throne, Aunt Andais. There are still too many among our court who see my mortal blood as the doom of them all.”
“They would not dare harm you for fear of me, just as they have not harmed me during my madness for fear of worse from me, Meredith.”
There was a certain logic to what she was saying, but in the end I believed I was correct. “To rule either court, the nobles must take oath to the new ruler, and bind themselves to her or him. At our court it is a blood oath, and I proved on the dueling grounds that to share my blood made my opponents mortal.”
“That was unexpected when you killed Arzhul.”
“He certainly did not expect the blood oath to make him killable by bullet, or he would never have allowed me a gun against his sword.”
She smiled, and looked satisfied. “You were always ruthless, Meredith; why did I not see your worth sooner?”
“You hated my mixed blood as much as any in court, Aunt Andais.”
“You’re not going to bring back up the time I tried to drown you when you were six, are you? It’s very tiresome to be reminded of it, and I would take it back if I could.”
“I appreciate that you would take it back, but your belief that I am not worthy to be an Unseelie noble, let alone rule there, is shared by many at the court. They fear taking oath to me, Aunt Andais, for fear that my mortality will cancel out their immortality permanently. Since I cannot promise them it will not happen just as they fear, I think they will choose my death over theirs, or worse, my death over slowly aging like a human.”
“For fertile wombs, Meredith, you might be surprised how many would accept you.”
“I think that not all the sidhe at your court are as wedded to having children as you are, aunt.”
“Perhaps, but have I proved myself calm enough to be allowed a glimpse of my great-nieces and nephew?”
I fought the urge to look at Doyle for reassurance. Rhys glanced back at me and gave me the look I needed. He thought she had been good enough to see the babies, or at least hadn’t done anything bad enough to not have earned a glimpse of them. I gave a small nod and then said, “Yes, we will have the babies brought into the room so you may see them tonight, Aunt Andais.”
I worded that last carefully, because if I had said, You may see the babies, she could interpret it as being allowed to come visit in person, and that she hadn’t earned yet.
I gave the order for the babies to be brought into the room. One of the guards went to fetch our nurses and our children to be paraded before their great-aunt, who had nearly killed me when I was little because she thought me not pure-blooded enough, like a mongrel puppy that your prize-winning bitch had dropped. You didn’t keep the mistakes, and Andais had seen me as that, or worse. My father had found us, rescued me, fought with his sister, and taken me and all his courtiers with him into the human world. He had chosen exile to keep me safe. I didn’t understand what it had cost him until I spent my own three years alone and exiled, hiding here in Los Angeles. My father had loved me dearly; my aunt … didn’t love me at all. How could I ever trust her around our babies? The answer was obvious: I couldn’t.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
BRYLUEN FIT IN my arms as if she had been made to tuck into the curve of my elbow. I lowered my face over that tiny face; the dark ginger of her eyelashes lay on her alabaster skin like decoration, almost too perfect to be real. I’m told all mothers think their babies are beautiful; how do you know if you’re seeing the truth, or it’s some illusion made of love and baby hormones? There are types of glamour that have nothing to do with faerie and everything to do with love.
Galen had taken Gwenwyfar in his arms, and then sat back down by my legs, careful not to bump my “footstool” so that Kitto wouldn’t move and ruin his safe pass before the queen. Sholto held Alastair, but stayed standing beside my chair. He rocked the baby automatically when Alastair started to fuss. Once he believed that Bryluen was his, he had joined in caring for all the babies, as if, one being his, they were all his.
“You forget how very tiny they are,” Andais said, and her voice was softer, gentler than any time I’d ever heard her.
I looked up and realized that I’d forgotten she was there; for just a moment there had been nothing but the baby in my arms and my feeling of utter contentment. I’d discovered that sometimes being around the triplets was like being drugged with something slow and pleasant, but I hadn’t expected the effect to continue with my aunt still on the “phone.”
“I remember that look from when Cel was little. He always had that effect on me to a certain extent. Looking at you now, I wonder if it was more than just motherly affection.”
