Sholto raised his arm and pushed back the sleeve just enough to show the beginnings of the tattoo that he and I shared. It had been real rose vines that night, and had pierced both our arms, entwining like the rope, or thread, that was used for a regular handfasting, but this “rope” had set thorns into our flesh and wedded our hands together more completely than any mere ceremony could have, and the marks of those vines and roses were painted on our arms.
“We were handfasted by Goddess and faerie,” Sholto said.
“And I have no such mark; you have pointed that out more than once over these months,” Doyle said.
That was news to me. Sholto was the only man to whom Goddess had personally handfasted me, but She had crowned Doyle and me as King and Queen of the Unseelie Court.
“Maybe the reason Goddess bound Merry to you was that you were the only one who is king in his own right,” Galen said.
The two men looked at him, as if he’d interrupted a longstanding disagreement. It isn’t always wise to get in the middle of two people who are fighting.
Galen smiled at them and shifted the baby in his arms, just enough to remind them the baby was there. I didn’t think the movement was accidental; Galen understood that the baby was a free pass from any violence. He was right, but I hoped he didn’t push the idea too far, because he wouldn’t be holding a baby forever, and both Sholto and Doyle had long memories.
“Merry had to become your queen; the rest of us had to become her kings.”
“Why should that matter?” Sholto said.
“Merry had to marry you to become your queen; for the rest of us, we had to father a child to become Merry’s kings, or princes. I think for the Unseelie Court, the Goddess and Consort already chose the king.”
“I gave up my crown to save Frost,” Doyle said.
“Barinthus still hasn’t forgiven you, or Merry, for that,” Galen said, with a smile.
“He is a Kingmaker, or a Queenmaker,” Sholto said. “The two of you gave up what Barinthus had worked for decades to accomplish.”
“He dreamed of putting my father on the throne, not me, and certainly not Doyle,” I said.
“True,” Sholto said.
“Very true,” Doyle said.
“I don’t believe we would all have lived to see the babies born,” Rhys said.
“Too many enemies still left in the darkling court,” Doyle agreed.
“Or perhaps the Goddess and God would have protected you,” Royal said.
We all looked at the delicate figure still tucked into the chair with a baby who might, or might not, be his daughter.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“If the Goddess and God crowned the two of you, maybe they would have worked to keep you safe on the throne?”
I thought about it. “Are you saying we needed to have faith, little one?” Doyle asked.
“You still talk as if the power of the Goddess has not returned to bless us all with Her Grace, but she has moved among us these last months even here outside faerie, in the far Western Lands.”
I said, “The Goddess told me that if the fey weren’t willing to accept Her blessings, then I should take them out among the humans and see if they appreciated them more.”
“Humans are always impressed with magic,” Sholto said.
“But it’s not magic,” I said. “It’s miracles.”
“Aren’t miracles just a type of magic?” he asked.
I thought about that, and finally said, “I’m not sure, perhaps.”
“What did the queen say when you told her not to come?” I asked.
Doyle met my eyes, but his face was unreadable, as closed and mysterious as he had ever been, but now I understood what the look meant. He was hiding something from me, protecting me, he thought. I saw it as not sharing information that I needed.
“What makes you think I have spoken to the queen?”
“Who else had a chance of persuading her to stay away but the Queen’s Darkness?”
“I am no longer her Darkness, but yours.”
“Then tell me what she said, and what she wants.”
“She wants to see her brother’s grandchildren.”
“You’ve told me that she’s still torturing random people at court,” I said.
“She was the most composed I have seen her since this last madness gripped her.”
“And how composed was that?” Rhys asked, and by tone and expression he showed that he didn’t believe it would be composed enough.
“She seemed her old self, before Cel’s death and our giving up the throne drove her mad.”
“You still believe that she was trying to be so insane that some of her court would kill her?”
“I believe that for this space of time she sought death, or didn’t care whether she lived or died,” Doyle said.
I thought about the broken, bloody bodies of the people that had been brought to us or escaped to find refuge with us. The queen had not tried to hunt down any of the refugees of her court, even though it was well known that her nobles had come to seek asylum with us.
“If positions had been reversed, she would have sent me to kill you months ago,” Doyle said.
I nodded, hugging Gwenwyfar a little closer, feeling her deeply asleep in my arms. It helped me stay calm and say, “She would have said, ‘Where is my Darkness? Bring me my Darkness,’ and you would have come like a shadow and ended my life.”
“I would have done the same if you had asked, Meredith.”
“I know that, but I would not risk you back in the Unseelie Court by yourself, Doyle.”
“If anyone could assassinate the queen and live to tell about it, it is Doyle,” Sholto said.
“If anyone could do it, he could, I know that.”
“Then why have we hesitated?”
“Because the word if is in every conversation we have about this, and I’m not willing to risk Doyle on an if.”
“You love him and the Killing Frost more than a queen should love anyone,” Sholto said.
“Do you say that from experience, King Sholto?” I asked.
“You do not love me as you love Doyle, or Frost. We all know that they are your most beloved, so I am not betraying you if I say that I am not in love with you either.”
“Don’t you love the babies more than duty, or crown?” Galen asked. I’m not sure I would have asked, not out loud.
Sholto turned and looked at him, so I couldn’t see the expression he gave the other man, but I was almost certain it was his arrogant face. The one that made him look model handsome and was his version of a blank face.
“I would give my life to keep them safe, but I do not know if I value them above duty to my people and my kingdom. My throne and crown they could have, but not if it cost my people their independence or their lives. I hope I never have to choose between the children and the duty that I owe my people.”
“You are the best king that faerie has had in a very long time,” Doyle said.
“You don’t hold duty above the lives of our children, do you, Doyle?” I asked.
He turned and smiled at me. “No, Merry, of course not; they are more precious to me than any crown, but then I already proved that I prefer love to a throne. If I would give up being King of the Unseelie Court for love of our Frost, then I would do no less for our children.”
And that was the answer I wanted, that no duty or sense of honor outweighed the love to these small new lives. I laid my cheek against the soft curls, breathed in the sweet scent of our daughter, and asked, “Who has persuaded the king to stay inside faerie?”
“The lawyers and the police,” Rhys said.
“Human lawyers and human police? How have they persuaded the King of Light and Illusion to do anything?”
“Human law confined him to faerie after he attacked us and the lawyers with us.”
“He hadn’t left the Seelie Court in years,” I said. “It was no hardship for him.”
“There’s also a court order keeping him five hundred feet away from you and all your lovers and an injunction preventing him from contacting us directly, even by magic.”
“That was a fun one to get a judge to sign off on,” I said.
“We have set new precedents for human law and magic,” Rhys agreed.
“He attacked a room full of some of the most powerful attorneys in California; it helped our case.”