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.
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.”
It took her a moment to understand what I’d implied, and then she blushed, which was not something you saw much among the fey. It made me laugh, not at her, but just happy for her and for Uther. He was like the ugly stepsister who had won the beautiful prince, and it couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.
“We are not certain that anything protects from Aisling’s beauty, and he seems to have grown in power since he helped bring the dead gardens back to life,” Dogmaela said.
I remembered that night. Galen and several of the sidhe who had once been vegetative deities had been absorbed into the very trees, rocks, and earth. When they came back out, they’d gained in power, or regained old powers once lost. But Aisling’s sacrifice had been the most spectacular. A tree limb had pierced him through the chest, and he’d hung there. I’d thought he was dead, and then his body had exploded not into flesh, bone, and blood, but into a flock of songbirds that flew out into the garden to be lost in the dead trees. Their songs had been the first life heard in that lost place in centuries. Later Galen and all the rest appeared, melting out of the very walls and floor of the Hallway of Mortality, the queen’s personal torture chamber. The hallway’s cells had opened, and some had dissolved, and there were flowers and trees growing there now.
Aisling had survived all that and come back into more of his powers, or so some of the women believed. Since none of us could risk gazing on his face, I’m not sure any of us knew for certain whether Aisling had gained from his own sacrifice, or if everyone assumed it, because it was so true of the other men that had been taken by faerie and returned to us that night.
“I’ve seen Aisling with his shirt off before, and it hasn’t affected me.”
The two women glanced at each other, and then Dogmaela said, “I would not risk staring at any part of his body without a covering.”
“Hafwen told us what happened when he revealed his face to Melangell.”
I looked down at the dry grass. “I was there, I remember.”
“Melangell clawed her own eyes out, so she would no longer be able to see him,” Dogmaela said.
“I was there,” I snapped at her.
She dropped to one knee, head bowed. “My apologies, Princess Meredith, I did not mean to offend.”
“Get up, Dogmaela; I don’t want any of you to abase yourself like that.”
Saraid said, “Prince Cel expected that and more from us, so forgive us if we still fall back into decades of habit.”
“I forgive you, but Dogmaela, please stand up.”
“I angered you,” she said, head still bowed.
“I regret what happened to Melangell. I didn’t understand what I was asking when I told Aisling to use his magic on her, and a leader should know what a weapon does before using it.”
They both looked at me, Dogmaela still on the ground. They exchanged another glance. It was Saraid who said, “Melangell meant to kill Galen that night. You were within your rights to do what was needed to find out the plan to assassinate you and your consorts.”
“You did nothing wrong,” Dogmaela said. “I just don’t wish to suffer Melangell’s fate by accident.”
“I would not willingly use Aisling’s beauty against anyone ever again.”
“Why not?” Dogmaela asked.
“Because it wasn’t lust that he filled Melangell with, it was love, as if she were forced to be in true love with him all at once, even though they hated each other.” I hugged my arms tight trying to hold myself.
“You feel guilty,” Saraid said, voice full of a soft awe.
“It was a terrible thing to do; why shouldn’t I feel bad?”
They exchanged another look.
“Stop that,” I said.
“Stop what?” they both asked.
“That look, just talk to me. I am not my aunt, or my dead cousin, I am not even my narcissistic mother, or egomaniac great-uncle, or my grandfather, Uar the Cruel; just talk to me, please, and for the love of Goddess, Dogmaela, stand up.”
She got to her feet, started to glance at Saraid again, and then looked at me instead. “Regret is not an emotion we are accustomed to seeing in the royal family.”
“No, they usually enjoy their cruelty,” I said.
“We would never say that to you,” Saraid said.
“I’m saying it, about my own family, but I am not them. I know a few months here doesn’t erase decades of abuse, but I swear to you that I do not take pleasure from causing other people pain, or humiliating them.”
“We believe you mean what you say,” Saraid said.
I smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. “You believe I mean it now, but you’re wondering when I’ll go crazy like my relatives and change my mind, is that it?”
“Time has taught us caution, Princess, that is all,” Saraid said.
Dogmaela put her hands on her hips and then said, “I fell back into old, unhealthy habits, and I’m sorry for that, Princess Meredith. You deserve better than that, because you have shown yourself to be fair and sane, and … I am sorry.”
I smiled at her. “It’s all right, we’re all learning as we go.”
“That is true,” she said.
“I still don’t want to see Aisling’s bare skin,” Saraid said.
“Nor I,” Dogmaela said.
“Then stand where you can’t see him, but I’m going to speak with Doyle and eventually with Aisling. If you don’t want to guard me while I do that, then you need to find guards to replace you.”
They exchanged another look, and then Dogmaela looked embarrassed and said, “I’m sorry, Princess, it is a very old habit. The other Cranes were the only beings we could look to for help once the queen gave us to her son.”
I thought the phrase was interesting:
gave
, like you’d give away a possession, or a puppy. You didn’t give people away. It just wasn’t supposed to work that way.
I had to go up on tiptoe to hug her. She stiffened, and didn’t hug me back at first, and then patted my back awkwardly. “I’m so sorry, so very sorry.”
She hugged me back then, and whispered, “Thank you for saving us.”
I drew back with tears threatening in my eyes again. I didn’t like this new emotional me, and really hoped that the hormones would even out and I’d regain more control, but the look on Dogmaela’s face was worth a happy tear or two.
Galen came up to us smiling. He was shirtless, showing his flat stomach and the compact muscle that was underneath every bit of him. He didn’t lift as seriously as Rhys did, and he didn’t do the more extreme nutrition, so his body looked less defined, but wearing only a loose pair of shorts there was no way for him to hide the muscles that were inside all that smooth, pale green skin. Maybe it was being surrounded by so much grass, trees, and plants, but his curls looked very green, that one tiny braid still the only memory of when his hair was almost to his knees.
“Is everything all right?” he asked, reaching his hand out toward me. It was as natural as breathing to take his hand and stand at his side.
“We’re fine,” I said, and leaned into him, going up on tiptoe to meet his kiss.
Dogmaela mumbled, “Fine,” and turned away to hide her own emotions, I think.
“We don’t think it’s safe that the princess be here with Aisling,” Saraid said.
Galen grinned then. “She’s safe enough.”
“I think it’s careless,” Saraid said.
“If you’re in love, really in love, then Aisling’s magic has no power over you,” Galen said.
“The princess told us the old wives’ tale about true love keeping you safe from him,” Saraid said.
“Meredith said that Saraid, you, and she would be safe,” Dogmaela said. She’d wiped quickly at her face, and turned a stony, unreadable face to us, though she was as careful as Saraid not to look toward the practice area.
Galen drew me into his arms, grinning wider. “Then the three of us are safe as houses, but Dogmaela might want to go somewhere else.”
She nodded. “I will, with Meredith’s permission. I have not even an old wives’ tale to keep me safe from the Terrible Beauty of him.”