A Shiver of Light
Page 65
“She always did have a soft spot for her brother,” Saraid said.
“She was afraid of him,” Dogmaela said.
“No,” Saraid said.
“She feared his power, Saraid. She knew he was one of the few in the courts strong enough to take the throne from her.”
“To kill her, you mean,” Saraid said.
“Yes, that is what I mean.”
“My father loved his sister, and she loved her brother,” I said.
They looked at me.
“They were devoted to each other, in their own ways,” Saraid said.
We all just agreed.
“If only he hadn’t loved his nephew,” Dogmaela said.
“He might still be alive to see his grandchildren,” I said, and the thought made my chest tight, my eyes hot.
“But if our prince, your father, had lived, these would not be the grandchildren he would see,” Dogmaela said.
I looked at her.
“You speak nonsense, Dogmaela.”
“No, Saraid, if Prince Essus had lived, then Meredith would never have had to hide in the Western Lands, and the queen would never have sent Doyle to find her. He would never have brought her back to be guarded and bedded by the Queen’s Ravens, so she would never have had sex with them, or fallen in love with Frost and Galen, and well, all of them. For that matter, if she’d gone on to be a doctor, would she have been able to bring the Goddess’s blessing back to us, or would we all still be slowly fading as a people?”
Saraid and I stared at her. I wanted to say, Dogmaela, you’re a deep, philosophical thinker; I didn’t know that. But that seemed vaguely insulting, as if I’d thought her stupid before, and I hadn’t, but … “Are you saying that my father had to die for me to help bring life back to faerie?”
“It’s something I’ve talked to the therapist about, and yes, I think so. I would never have traded our prince, your father, for anything, but it is a way I’ve made sense of his death and everything that came after. If it was all so that you would save us, Meredith, bring our people and faerie itself back to life, then that makes all the pain worth something, don’t you see?”
“That’s just talk,” Saraid said. “If it makes you feel better, then believe it, but Prince Essus did not martyr himself so that Meredith could bring the Goddess back to us and save the sidhe from themselves.”
“I never said that our prince agreed to die to save us, Saraid, but it is a way at looking at all the pain and horror, and having some sense from it.”
Saraid shook her head. “And this is why I stopped going to the therapist.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about Dogmaela’s comforting therapy reasoning. I wasn’t even sure I thought it was comforting to me, but if it gave Dogmaela peace of mind, then I didn’t want to argue with it.
“I’m sorry, Princess Meredith, I didn’t mean to upset you. I have been thoughtless.”
“I encouraged you to go to the therapist, Dogmaela; what you take from it has to work for you, not me.”
She looked at me, seemed to study me. “If I may be so bold, Princess, perhaps taking your own advice might not be a bad idea.”
“What do you mean?”
Saraid said, “No, no, you are not going to tell the princess she needs therapy. We are going to escort her to Captain Doyle and anywhere else she needs to go, and that is that.”
Dogmaela dropped to one knee as the Red Cap had done in the weight room. “I beg your pardon, our princess.”
“Oh, get up, you did nothing wrong, Dogmaela, and neither did you, Saraid. You’re allowed to be different people and deal with your traumas differently. Right now I just need to talk to Doyle and Aisling.”
“Aisling, why do you seek him?” Saraid asked.
“That is my business.”
Saraid dropped to her knee beside Dogmaela. “We have offended you.”
“Oh, get up.” And with that I started down the hallway as fast as my high heels could take me. I made them jog a little to catch up with me, and then they dropped back to their bodyguard position half a pace behind and to each side. That was how we walked through the sliding glass doors and out into the Southern California sunshine, where Doyle was teaching hand-to-hand combat, and all I wanted to do was run to him and wrap the strength of his arms around me. I didn’t, because it might have undermined his authority, but it took more control than a would-be queen likes to admit.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
DOYLE STOOD UNDER the shade of a huge eucalyptus tree that rose at least thirty feet high and spread out like a canopy. Most eucalyptus didn’t have such a magnificent top, but this one was simply one of the prettiest ones I’d ever seen. Doyle had paced off a circle months ago that started under its shade and then spread out into the bright California sun. That circle of shade and light had become the unarmed combat practice area, because the Red Caps who practiced with the guard were too big to be thrown around inside any room the house could boast, so they got thrown around outside where they couldn’t break things. Though, honestly, most of the guards who practiced with the Red Caps couldn’t throw them around; it was more getting thrown around. The sidhe were quicker and more agile than the biggest of the goblins, but they weren’t stronger.
The white, oversized tank top made a startling contrast with Doyle’s skin, but the fitted exercise shorts were black so that it was almost hard to see them against his long legs. He was dressed like a hundred personal trainers in L. A., but the clothes were the only thing that was ordinary. No other trainer was going to have skin the color of night with purple and blue highlights when the sunlight hit it just right, and the pointed ears and ankle-length braid made him look like some elven prince from a fairy tale trying to blend into a modern gym. If Doyle wasn’t different enough, the circle around him was full of the towering figures of Red Caps.
There were actually more Red Caps than sidhe standing and sitting around the circle. It was a first; the sidhe always outnumbered anyone else. Then one of the sidhe got up from where he’d been sitting on the ground, and the sunlight sparkled across his bare upper body as if he’d been sprinkled with gold dust. I knew that he had yellow and gold blond hair braided tight to his head, because he’d shoved it all up under a thin face mask that covered him from the chin up, leaving only holes for his eyes and mouth. It was far too hot even for the thinnest mask they’d been able to find, but it was the best solution we’d found so far to make sure Aisling’s face wasn’t exposed. He was why there were so few of the sidhe here. The Red Caps feared nothing, so they said, which meant they couldn’t admit to worrying that Aisling’s beauty would bespell them.
Dogmaela and Saraid moved in front of me, turning their backs on the practice and blocking my view entirely. “Princess, you should not be here; none of us should,” Dogmaela said.
“Aisling is one of the people I need to speak with; please move aside.”
“None of the female guard will risk seeing him bare of face, Princess Meredith, and we would be poor bodyguards if we let him bespell you,” Saraid said.
“True love protects from his magic,” I said. “I think you and I will both be safe, Saraid.”
“She was afraid of him,” Dogmaela said.
“No,” Saraid said.
“She feared his power, Saraid. She knew he was one of the few in the courts strong enough to take the throne from her.”
“To kill her, you mean,” Saraid said.
“Yes, that is what I mean.”
“My father loved his sister, and she loved her brother,” I said.
They looked at me.
“They were devoted to each other, in their own ways,” Saraid said.
We all just agreed.
“If only he hadn’t loved his nephew,” Dogmaela said.
“He might still be alive to see his grandchildren,” I said, and the thought made my chest tight, my eyes hot.
“But if our prince, your father, had lived, these would not be the grandchildren he would see,” Dogmaela said.
I looked at her.
“You speak nonsense, Dogmaela.”
“No, Saraid, if Prince Essus had lived, then Meredith would never have had to hide in the Western Lands, and the queen would never have sent Doyle to find her. He would never have brought her back to be guarded and bedded by the Queen’s Ravens, so she would never have had sex with them, or fallen in love with Frost and Galen, and well, all of them. For that matter, if she’d gone on to be a doctor, would she have been able to bring the Goddess’s blessing back to us, or would we all still be slowly fading as a people?”
Saraid and I stared at her. I wanted to say, Dogmaela, you’re a deep, philosophical thinker; I didn’t know that. But that seemed vaguely insulting, as if I’d thought her stupid before, and I hadn’t, but … “Are you saying that my father had to die for me to help bring life back to faerie?”
“It’s something I’ve talked to the therapist about, and yes, I think so. I would never have traded our prince, your father, for anything, but it is a way I’ve made sense of his death and everything that came after. If it was all so that you would save us, Meredith, bring our people and faerie itself back to life, then that makes all the pain worth something, don’t you see?”
“That’s just talk,” Saraid said. “If it makes you feel better, then believe it, but Prince Essus did not martyr himself so that Meredith could bring the Goddess back to us and save the sidhe from themselves.”
“I never said that our prince agreed to die to save us, Saraid, but it is a way at looking at all the pain and horror, and having some sense from it.”
Saraid shook her head. “And this is why I stopped going to the therapist.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about Dogmaela’s comforting therapy reasoning. I wasn’t even sure I thought it was comforting to me, but if it gave Dogmaela peace of mind, then I didn’t want to argue with it.
“I’m sorry, Princess Meredith, I didn’t mean to upset you. I have been thoughtless.”
“I encouraged you to go to the therapist, Dogmaela; what you take from it has to work for you, not me.”
She looked at me, seemed to study me. “If I may be so bold, Princess, perhaps taking your own advice might not be a bad idea.”
“What do you mean?”
Saraid said, “No, no, you are not going to tell the princess she needs therapy. We are going to escort her to Captain Doyle and anywhere else she needs to go, and that is that.”
Dogmaela dropped to one knee as the Red Cap had done in the weight room. “I beg your pardon, our princess.”
“Oh, get up, you did nothing wrong, Dogmaela, and neither did you, Saraid. You’re allowed to be different people and deal with your traumas differently. Right now I just need to talk to Doyle and Aisling.”
“Aisling, why do you seek him?” Saraid asked.
“That is my business.”
Saraid dropped to her knee beside Dogmaela. “We have offended you.”
“Oh, get up.” And with that I started down the hallway as fast as my high heels could take me. I made them jog a little to catch up with me, and then they dropped back to their bodyguard position half a pace behind and to each side. That was how we walked through the sliding glass doors and out into the Southern California sunshine, where Doyle was teaching hand-to-hand combat, and all I wanted to do was run to him and wrap the strength of his arms around me. I didn’t, because it might have undermined his authority, but it took more control than a would-be queen likes to admit.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
DOYLE STOOD UNDER the shade of a huge eucalyptus tree that rose at least thirty feet high and spread out like a canopy. Most eucalyptus didn’t have such a magnificent top, but this one was simply one of the prettiest ones I’d ever seen. Doyle had paced off a circle months ago that started under its shade and then spread out into the bright California sun. That circle of shade and light had become the unarmed combat practice area, because the Red Caps who practiced with the guard were too big to be thrown around inside any room the house could boast, so they got thrown around outside where they couldn’t break things. Though, honestly, most of the guards who practiced with the Red Caps couldn’t throw them around; it was more getting thrown around. The sidhe were quicker and more agile than the biggest of the goblins, but they weren’t stronger.
The white, oversized tank top made a startling contrast with Doyle’s skin, but the fitted exercise shorts were black so that it was almost hard to see them against his long legs. He was dressed like a hundred personal trainers in L. A., but the clothes were the only thing that was ordinary. No other trainer was going to have skin the color of night with purple and blue highlights when the sunlight hit it just right, and the pointed ears and ankle-length braid made him look like some elven prince from a fairy tale trying to blend into a modern gym. If Doyle wasn’t different enough, the circle around him was full of the towering figures of Red Caps.
There were actually more Red Caps than sidhe standing and sitting around the circle. It was a first; the sidhe always outnumbered anyone else. Then one of the sidhe got up from where he’d been sitting on the ground, and the sunlight sparkled across his bare upper body as if he’d been sprinkled with gold dust. I knew that he had yellow and gold blond hair braided tight to his head, because he’d shoved it all up under a thin face mask that covered him from the chin up, leaving only holes for his eyes and mouth. It was far too hot even for the thinnest mask they’d been able to find, but it was the best solution we’d found so far to make sure Aisling’s face wasn’t exposed. He was why there were so few of the sidhe here. The Red Caps feared nothing, so they said, which meant they couldn’t admit to worrying that Aisling’s beauty would bespell them.
Dogmaela and Saraid moved in front of me, turning their backs on the practice and blocking my view entirely. “Princess, you should not be here; none of us should,” Dogmaela said.
“Aisling is one of the people I need to speak with; please move aside.”
“None of the female guard will risk seeing him bare of face, Princess Meredith, and we would be poor bodyguards if we let him bespell you,” Saraid said.
“True love protects from his magic,” I said. “I think you and I will both be safe, Saraid.”
