Ivi went to one knee before me, and when he did, the cloak caught on his leg and pulled to one side, baring his shoulder, part of his chest, and the edge of his hips. He was nude under the cloak.
"Princess Meredith, greetings from the Queen of Air and Darkness. She sends us as gifts." That lilt of mockery was back in his voice.
Hawthorne had also dropped to his knees, but the way he held the cloak tight with only his hands showing made me wonder if he were wearing anything more under his cloak than Ivi was.
"We are gifts for your stay if the ring doth know us," Hawthorne said, and he sounded as if he would have been angry if he dared.
"Surely this can wait," Onilwyn said. "If the queen truly does not know of what has happened, then she must be told."
It was Usna who answered that. "If you want to hurry off and give the queen bad news, by all means run along. I, for one, do not want to be the first person to tell her." He was still nude, carrying his sheathed sword in his hand. The queen had been known to shoot the messenger, as it were.
Onilwyn looked a little pale. "You may have a point."
"But so do you," Barinthus said. "The queen needs to know. I cannot believe that no one has contacted her."
"She did not know near three hours hence," Hawthorne said.
"If she knew now, there would be more men," Doyle said, and no one argued with him.
"She was entertaining herself," Ivi said, his voice rich with that self-loathing humor, as if every word meant more, "and gave word that only the princess's arrival would be good enough to disturb her."
"Surely someone would have interrupted her fun and games for this," Barinthus said.
Hawthorne looked up at him. "You are one of us, Lord Barinthus, but she does not treat you as she treats most. She respects your power. The rest of us are not so lucky. If we interrupt her game, then we are to take the place of the one she plays with." He looked down and a shudder passed through him. "I would not interrupt her for an attempted assassination."
"If I'd died, then one of you would have told her?" I asked, and my own voice held an edge of what Ivi usually sounded like.
"You have stripped us of all who were powerful enough to beard her in her den, Princess," Hawthorne said.
"Darkness, Frost, Barinthus," Ivi said, "teacher's pets compared to the rest of us."
"Mistral is still here," Doyle said.
Hawthorne shook his head. "He fears her, Darkness, as do we all."
"She has gotten better in the last few months," Barinthus said, "easier to talk to."
"Again, Lord Barinthus, perhaps for you," Hawthorne said.
"Let us finish our speech," Ivi said. "Then you can all draw straws for who gets to be the bearer of such evil tidings."
"You say that as if you don't get to draw a straw," Rhys said.
"We don't," Ivi said.
"Hawthorne, explain," Doyle said.
"We are gifts for the princess, if the ring doth know us."
"You said that already," Rhys said.
Doyle gave him a look, and Rhys shrugged. "He did."
"And if the ring knows you," Frost said.
"Then we are to invite the princess to bed us." Hawthorne was careful to look only at Doyle, as if I weren't standing there.
Ivi snorted, as if trying not to laugh.
"What is funny in that?" Doyle asked him.
"That's not what the queen said."
"It is the meat of what she meant," Hawthorne said, and there was an air of offended dignity in his tone.
Ivi laughed out loud.
"What did the queen say, Ivi?" Doyle's tone was resigned, as if he really didn't want to know, but understood there was no choice.
"If the ring knows us" - and he finished the rest in an imitation of the queen's voice good enough to raise the hair at the back of my neck - "then f**k Meredith, f**k her as soon as you see her. If she gets picky then you may go to her room, or yours. I don't care, just get the job done."
"Well," Galen said, "that's..."
"A little less than poetic even for the queen," Rhys said.
"That'll do." Galen looked a little shocked.
"Do I get a say in this?" I asked.
Hawthorne bowed until his forehead nearly touched the stone. "I am sorry, Princess."
"What he won't tell you," Ivi said, "is that he asked what we were to do if Princess Meredith did not wish to bed us as soon as she entered the sithen." He imitated the rhythm of Hawthorne's speech.
"And what did my aunt say?" I asked.
Ivi smiled up at me, and his dark green eyes held a fierce triumph that I didn't understand.
Hawthorne answered with his face still bowed toward the stones, his voice holding sorrow the way Ivi's usually held mockery. "Are you Unseelie sidhe or not? Persuade her."
Ivi kept his darkly joyful face turned up toward me. "He asked, and if she will not be persuaded?" And again he echoed the queen's voice so well that it raised chills upon my skin, "Persuade her, or take her, or tell her what I have said, and let that be your persuasion. If Meredith will not take the pleasure I offer her, then perhaps she will take pain instead. For there is both to be had here among the Unseelie. Remind her of that if her sensibilities are too delicate for f**king."
"I would change what she has sent us for, if I could," Hawthorne said, and he prostrated himself against the stone, his forehead pressed to the floor.
I turned from Ivi's gloating face to Barinthus. "I thought you said she'd gotten better over the last few months."