Her standing had revealed a second man, though he was sidhe and not mortal. It was Eamon, the royal consort. His hair was black and fell in soft, thick waves around his white face. His eyes were heavy-lidded either from sleep... or other things.
Frost and Rhys hurried to the queen's side. They each took a leather-clad hand. They braced her at hand and elbow and lifted her over the blond man. The black skirt swirled around her, giving a glimpse of layers of black petticoats, and a pair of black patent leather sandals that left most of her foot bare. As they lifted her and set her gracefully on the floor, I half expected music to begin and dancers to appear from nowhere. My aunt was certainly capable of the illusion.
I dropped to one knee, and my dress had enough give to make the gesture look graceful. The material would spring back into place once I stood, which was one of the reasons I'd chosen it. The garter was pressed in outline against the material, but all you could tell under the burgundy cloth was that I was wearing at least one garter-the knife didn't show. I didn't bow my head yet. The queen was putting on a show. She wanted to be watched.
Queen Andais was a tall woman even by today's standards: six feet. Her skin glowed like polished alabaster. The perfect black line of eyebrows and the thick black of her lashes were an almost startling contrast.
I bowed my head at last because it was expected. I kept my head bowed low so that all I could see was the floor and my own leg. I heard her skirt slither across the floor. Her heels made sharp sounds as they passed from throw rug to stone floor. Why she didn't get wall-to-wall carpet escaped me. The petticoats crinkled and hissed together as she walked toward me, and I knew they were crinoline, scratchy and uncomfortable next to the skin.
Finally, a spill of black skirt showed on the floor at my foot. Her voice was a low, rich contralto. "Greetings, Princess Meredith NicEssus, Child of Peace, Besaba's Bane, my brother's child."
I kept my head bowed, and would until told otherwise. She had not called me niece, though she had acknowledged our kinship. It was a slight insult not to name my familial relationship to her, but until she named me niece I couldn't name her my aunt. "Greetings, Queen Andais, Queen of Air and Darkness, Lover of White Flesh, Sister of Essus, my father. I have come from the lands to the west at your request. What would you have of me?"
"I've never understood how you do that," she said.
I kept my gaze on the floor. "What, my queen?"
"How you can say exactly the right words with exactly the right tone of voice and still sound insincere, as if you find it all terribly, terribly tiresome."
"My apologies if I offend you, my queen." That was as safe an answer to the charge as I could make because I did find it all terribly, terribly tiresome. I just hadn't meant for it to show so clearly in my voice. I stayed kneeling, head bowed, waiting for her to tell me I could stand. Even two-inch heels were not meant for prolonged kneeling in this position. They made it hard not to wobble. If Andais wished, she could leave me just as I was for hours, until my entire leg fell asleep except for a point of agony on the knee where nearly all my weight rested. My record for kneeling had been six hours after I'd broken curfew when I was seventeen. It would have been longer, but I either fell asleep or fainted, I really wasn't sure which.
"You cut your hair," she said.
I was starting to memorize the texture of the floor. "Yes, my queen."
"Why did you cut it?"
"Having hair nearly to your ankles marks you as high court sidhe. I've been passing as human."
I felt her lean over me, her hand lifting my hair, running her fingers through it. "So you sacrificed your hair."
"It is much easier to care for at this length," I said, voice as neutral as I could make it.
"Get up, niece of mine."
I rose slowly, carefully in the high heels. "Thank you, Aunt Andais." Standing, I was woefully short compared to her tall slender presence. With the heels she was over a foot taller than me. Most of the time I'm not that aware that I'm short, but my aunt tried to make me aware of it. She tried to make me feel small.
I looked up at her and fought not to shake my head and sigh. Next to Cel, Andais was my least favorite part of the Unseelie Court. I looked up at her with calm eyes and fought very hard not to sigh out loud.
"Am I boring you?" she asked.
"No, Aunt Andais, of course not." My expression had not betrayed me. I'd had years to practice the polite blank expression. But Andais had had centuries to perfect her study of people. She couldn't truly read our minds, but her awareness of the slightest change in body language, breath, was almost as good as true telepathy.
Andais stared down at me, a small frown forming between her perfect brows. "Eamon, take our pet and have him dress you for the banquet, in the other room."
The royal consort pulled a purple brocade robe from the tangle of bed clothes, slipping it over his body before he climbed out of the bed. The sash had been tied behind the back of the robe so it no longer closed over his body. His hair fell in a tangle of black waves nearly to his ankles. The dark purple of the robe didn't so much hide his body as act as a frame for the pale glimpses you got as he moved across the floor.
He gave a small nod as he passed me. I nodded back. He laid a gentle kiss on Andais's cheek and walked toward the small door that led into the smaller bedroom and bathroom beyond. One modern convenience that the court had adopted was indoor plumbing.
The blonde sat on the edge of the bed, na**d as well. He stood stretching his body in a long tanned line of flesh. His eyes flicked to me as he did it. When he realized I was watching, he smiled. The smile was predatory, lascivious, aggressive. The human "pets" always misunderstood the casual nudity of the guards.