“I do my best to rule through fairness and love, but I am also the wielder of flesh and blood; those are not Seelie powers, my queen.”
“I saw what your hand of blood can do when you killed my son.”
“I did not flinch when Cel tried to kill me; that was my father’s mistake. If he had not loved Cel, he would not have hesitated in his own defense and my father would be here to see his grandchildren.”
“Do you not think I have thought of that, Meredith, since I learned of my son’s treachery?”
“You ask if I am all sunshine and love, and I tell you this, aunt, I do not rule by love and fairness alone.”
“What then, kindness?” She made it an insult.
“Ruthlessness. I am more ruthless than my father. You can take credit for that, Aunt Andais, for you allowed sidhe after sidhe to challenge me to duels when I had no magic to defend myself. I had to become ruthless to survive, because you would not protect me. You would not acknowledge that the duels were attempts to assassinate me, attempts done either on Cel’s orders or to curry favor from him. If you had only reached out to me, protected me, if not for myself, then for your brother’s memory, but you did not. Essus taught me kindness, honor, love, fairness, justice, but you, dear aunt, you taught me ruthlessness—and hate.”
She smiled then, and nothing she could have done in that moment would have frightened me more. It caught my breath in my throat and made my skin run cold. Galen moved closer to me, folding me in his arms.
“Then perhaps Essus and I have forged a fit ruler for the sidhe, at last. Perhaps it is Taranis who should fear you, Meredith.”
“I do not understand, Aunt Andais.”
“I will let it be known that my Ravens, and Cel’s Cranes, have oathed to you out of love and loyalty the way rulers gathered followers thousands of years ago. I will let it be known that sidhe among your guards that have not been in your bed are with child. I will make certain that the Seelie know we have a new goddess of love and ruthlessness, for it was not only I who taught you that last lesson, Meredith. Your mother’s neglect and Taranis’s madness helped forge you into the ruler you are today.”
I hugged Galen closer and nodded. “I will agree with that, Aunt Andais.”
“I will make certain Taranis knows that.” She gave a short, abrupt laugh. “You may be right after all, Galen Greenknight; perhaps love is frightening enough all on its own without any torture needed.”
She laughed again, and then just walked out of sight of the mirror. It was Eamon who came forward, reaching to blank the glass. He spoke to me before he did it. “Princess Meredith, Prince Galen.” And we were staring at our own startled reflections before I could give him his title in return.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
MAEVE REED STALKED around the main bedroom in a pair of cream slacks, cut wide so they swung enough to give glimpses of the pale taupe stiletto boots underneath. The boots matched her tailored suit jacket, the dress shirt buttoned up to her neck was almost pure white, and her thin man-style tie was metallic gold and cream to pick up the gold of her chain-link belt. The chain was tied into a loose knot to trail across her hip, swinging to cross her groin as she moved, more like jewelry for the waist than an actual belt.
“You look wonderful in this outfit,” I said.
She stopped stalking the white carpet and turned to look at me. “You think so?” She trailed long, slender hands down the chain links, which drew the eye down to her groin again. It wasn’t accidental, but it wasn’t exactly flirting with me either. Maeve had made her living in Hollywood for decades; sex appeal had been one of the commodities that had helped her stay at the top, especially back in the fifties, when she’d have been considered too tall, too thin, and not curvy enough to be a sex symbol. Now she was very chic and very in, but then Maeve Reed, the Golden Goddess of Hollywood, had been one of the reasons the fashion had changed from curvy to a thinness that was almost impossible for a human woman to duplicate without starving herself. The sidhe were built differently, like fashion models with a bit more body fat so they still had br**sts and ass, but they could eat a Thanksgiving feast every day and not gain weight. Humans couldn’t, and yet they tried.
“I had to go into the studio today. I’m a movie star; people expect an effort.”
“You don’t have to explain it to me. You could have just dressed to be around the house. It’s your clothes, your house, wear what you want.”
She looked at me, blue eyes narrowing. She was using glamour to appear more human, hiding her very inhuman eyes with their tricolor blue and copper and gold lines that went out like miniature lightning bolts, changing her golden skin to a human tan, and even making her straight waist-length hair more yellow than her natural white-blond. I never understood why she darkened her hair; it was within human bounds either way. The skin and eyes she’d had to make more human, but the hair could have stayed.
“Why do you make your hair more yellow-blond than it is naturally? Humans have hair both colors.”
“The yellow-blond looks better on camera,” she said.
“Oh, that makes sense.” I sat on the edge of the bed, swinging my feet, because I was far too short to sit and reach the ground. I was still wearing the purple dress, though I’d changed to a pair of black low-heeled pumps. I might get back into the stilettos in a few weeks, but right now having to fight my body on heels that high and thin just took too much effort. I’d lost most of my weight in an almost magically short time, but I still wasn’t quite myself. The extra cup size in my br**sts alone made me feel unbalanced. I’d been generously endowed before, but now it was a true embarrassment of riches.
“I’m sorry that you disagree about hiring lesser fey to work in the house, Meredith, but I just don’t see the point in it. There are plenty of humans in L. A. needing jobs. If we hire only fey, then the media will accuse us of racism.”
“Really?” I asked.
Maeve nodded. “Trust me on that.”
“I do trust you, but we can’t have human nannies around the triplets, or more specifically around Bryluen. Her ability to fascinate seems automatic; until she’s old enough for us to teach her to control it, humans are nearly helpless around her.”
“She’s a baby, it can’t be that bad.”
“Come to the nursery and see for yourself. Perhaps your more pure sidhe blood will keep you proof against Bryluen’s glamour.”
“I’m not just sidhe, Meredith; I was a goddess and I’m still worshipped in a way as a celebrity, so if your babe cannot bespell me it’s not really a good test.”
“But if she can, then it’s a very good test,” I said.
Maeve looked thoughtful and then said, “Good point. Who is taking care of her besides you?”
“Kitto …”
“A goblin has no resistance to sidhe magic; of course he would be ensnared by her.”
“Kitto is also half sidhe and has come into his hand of power.”
She waved it away. “He was raised goblin; he will never be as sidhe as he is goblin.”
“Why should that make a difference to his magic resistance?” I asked.
“You were taught certain skills from childhood, skills that your little man was not.”
I slid to my feet, settling the skirt in place. “Don’t call him a little man.”
“Why not? He is the smallest of your men.”
“If you were sidhe, yes, but you’ve lived with the humans long enough to understand it’s an insult.”
“What do you mean, if I were sidhe?”
“If Kitto’s goblin upbringing undermines his ability to be sidhe, then a similar argument can be made that your centuries of exile out among the humans have made you more human than you would have been had you stayed in faerie as a member of the Seelie Court.”
“I was the goddess Conchenn; how dare you compare me to some sidhe-sided goblin?”
“The goblins are every bit as fey as any sidhe, and this attitude of looking down on them because they have no magic, when it is the sidhe that stole their magic in the first place, really is racist, and arrogant. It’s like an abusive spouse who blames his wife for not being able to walk gracefully, when he’s the one who broke her leg.”