The three other druids just stared at Munro for a moment. “Wow,” Phillip said. “A queen?”
“Tonight, probably. So, their focus on getting you three bonded will take a back seat while they sort all of this out. But it might be a good thing. You can be around, meet more of them, and maybe it’ll happen more naturally that way, you know? Without them trying to force pairings for political reasons.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice.
“Is that it? Do you think they coerced Douglas into bonding with Trath because he’s a prince?”
Munro chuckled. “Trath is the last person they wanted any of you to bond with. And it still might not happen. Trath seemed pretty unstable, according to Eilidh, and she doesn’t know what the bonding might do. And if Trath dies, well, Douglas could never bond with anyone else. So, nobody wants to say it, but they don’t want Douglas wasted.”
“That’s pretty cheap,” Rory muttered. “The kid didn’t look that bad to me. Could he really die?”
“I don’t know,” Munro said.
“What aren’t you telling us?” Phillip asked.
Munro set his cup on the counter. “It doesn’t really have anything to do with you guys. It’s Eilidh. After she’s made queen, they want her to marry Griogair. It’ll give her status with the Halls of Mist, and I think the elders are hoping it’ll bring some support in the Caledonian kingdom. He’s been the prince-consort there for hundreds of years.”
“Crikey,” Rory said. “He doesn’t look that old.”
“Shut up, you moron,” Phillip muttered, shoving Rory lightly. To Munro he said, “But she’s not going through with it, right? I mean, everybody knows Eilidh and you are an item.”
“She might not have a choice.”
Or none she could live with.
Aaron clapped his hand on Munro’s back. “I’m sorry, man. That really sucks. Want us to take him out? He’s no big cheese here, where he can’t touch his earth magic, right? We could take him,” he assured Munro with a grin. “You probably know all kinds of ways to dispose of a body, being a cop and all.”
Munro rolled his eyes. “Don’t tempt me.”
Phillip chuckled. “We could just break his knees then, or maybe that pretty nose of his. Nobody should be that good looking anyway.”
Munro couldn’t help but laugh, and he was grateful for the guys knowing just what he wanted to hear. “I think Eilidh might object, but I’ll keep the offer in mind.”
“That explains why he’s loitering around then,” Rory said.
“What?” Munro asked. “Where?”
“I saw him outside, kind of, when we came in.”
“Kind of? Jesus, Rory. You might have mentioned it,” Munro said. “He’s probably waiting for Eilidh. She’s sleeping in my room. I’ll go talk to him.”
“You sure you don’t want us to come?” Aaron drew his finger across his own neck.
Munro grinned. “I got this. But thanks.” His smile faded as he grabbed his shirt from the bedroom and slipped it over his head. Eilidh still slept, and this was possibly his last chance to talk to Griogair before the conclave made its final decisions.
The druids’ house sat on a hill with trees and high grass all around. If Rory had seen Griogair, though, he must have been on the front side of the house. Munro didn’t see the prince right away, so he walked down the road, not realising until he stepped on a sharp stone that he had come outside barefoot. In January. He wasn’t even cold. Suddenly, his fantasies of returning to his old life didn’t seem reasonable. With his glowing eyes and pointy ears, he’d have quite a time explaining himself. He could maybe take to wearing sunglasses at night to hide his eyes. It seemed ridiculous, but the idea of watching Eilidh marry this guy seemed that unbearable.
Half way down the long country driveway, Munro saw Griogair sitting in a small clearing under a large tree. “I was waiting for you,” Griogair said. “I thought you would seek me out, demand a duel for your lady’s hand. Isn’t that what humans do?”
“Not for a couple hundred years.” Munro sat on the grass across from the prince. “I really do love her.”
“I know,” Griogair said. “I saw the two of you together. I’ve had many lovers, but never love. I envy you.”
“You are about to marry the woman I want, and
you
envy
me
?”
“She’s agreed to it?” Griogair sat up straighter and looked Munro in the eye. “I saw the way she looked at you, and I thought she wouldn’t have the strength.”
“If she wasn’t planning to go through with it, she wouldn’t be so sad. You’d be surprised how strong she is.” Munro toyed with a long blade of grass. “God dammit,” he muttered. “There’s no other way?” He realised how strange it was, asking Griogair if he could find a way not to marry Eilidh, but who else would listen?
Griogair shrugged. “She could try to stand on her own as queen, but even if the Halls of Mist accepted her, which I’m not sure they would, there would be difficulties. Nearly every kingdom has passed some form of law in the past millennia restricting the use of the Path of Stars, if not outright banning it. But you must understand, even if she does not take me as her mate, she will eventually have to make a political union. If she avoided that somehow, and I very much doubt she could find a way to do so, a queen could never have a human mate. Not even a druid. At least by creating a union with a faerie of royal lineage, it would take away concerns about her relationship with you. If she stood alone, many would question how much influence you had on the kingdom, and that would be a grave concern to either conclave.”
Munro looked at the sky. The sun was getting low and just beginning to dip behind the trees. “So, you’re saying even if you can’t have her, I can’t have her either.”
“You must convince her to do this, to accept the crown, and to accept a royal mate. Myself, my son, someone else. Of course I want it to be me. Who would deny wanting to be a part of a change in our kingdom that would echo beyond centuries. And besides, I like Eilidh.”
Munro sighed. “She likes you too.”
“Then we would begin our relationship with a better personal foundation than I ever had with Cadhla.”
“Then the promise you made me, to do whatever I asked if I saved your son, this is what I want: Take care of her. Support her always and protect her like I would, if I was there.”
Griogair’s eyes started to glow violet as the sky darkened. “I have no problem making such a promise, but why are you going away? She will need you. All of the fae on Skye need you, as leader of the druids. Those men look to you for guidance, and the faeries here respect you.”
Munro suddenly wanted to punch the prince’s smug, royal face. “Don’t you get it? I love her.”
“Then stay. Be her counsel, her bodyguard, her lover, her friend. She needs to be surrounded with people she can trust, those who know her and will keep her perspective honest and true, who won’t be swayed by the political manoeuvrings she will soon encounter.”
Munro blinked. “You’re saying you have no objection? You want me to be some kind of concubine?”
Griogair shrugged. “People will expect her to behave a certain way in public. I will stand with her as her life mate. We will attend many functions, and we will have many obligations. There will come a day when we will be expected to try to have at least one child, but most fae women do not do this until they are in their second century at least, and many queens not until they are in their third. We have time,” he said.
“You’re not saying you won’t sleep with her,” Munro said, his mind turning.
“As her consort, I am required to do whatever my queen demands of me and whatever will most serve my people. The marriage will have to be consummated before witnesses, as is our tradition. It is the best I can promise you, and yet, I still envy you.” The prince sighed and stood. “The night is coming. The conclave will send for her soon.” He extended his hand.
Munro gripped the prince’s outreached hand and got to his feet. He was stunned. Griogair was offering to
share
Eilidh. To Munro, the idea seemed unthinkable, and yet he was thinking about it. He looked at the prince. Munro hated him, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but admire him. Griogair understood duty, and Munro knew it couldn’t be easy for him to jump into another political marriage only days after his last wife divorced him and ordered him executed. “Give me a few minutes to talk to her alone, please,” Munro said.
“You will stay then?”
“That depends on her response.” He turned to walk away, not wanting to give Griogair another chance to speak. If there was one thing the prince was good at, it was talk. Munro couldn’t help but wonder if by tomorrow, this would all seem ludicrous.
The dim light of dusk faded as Munro approached the house and went inside to find Eilidh. By the time he reached her bed, she was just waking. She smiled softly as he closed the door. “Come back to bed and hold me again,” she purred.
“I wish I could, but it’s nightfall, and they’ll be here soon. I need to talk to you.”
She pressed her eyes closed. “No, let me speak first.” She reached out, took his hand, and pulled him to sit on the edge of the bed. “I will not take Griogair as my mate. Most of my people do not take life mates, we live freely, love freely. I have no desire to tie myself to someone when my heart belongs to another. It would be wrong for all of us. For me, to deny myself, for him, as I know I will never love him, and for you most of all.”
“You must be the queen, Eilidh. Your people need you.”
“Surely the queen can decide something so important and personal for herself.”
Munro shook his head. “Look, I don’t like it. I’m not going to pretend I do. I hate it more than anything. I’d do whatever it took if I could change the reality. But I have to step aside.”
Eilidh sat up, her eyes welling with tears. “No, Quinton, please don’t leave me. Our bond grows stronger, and I could not be parted from you like this.”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a soft embrace. “I’m not going anywhere. Not as long as you want me with you.” He pulled back and said, “But remember when I was talking about what happened last summer, how you drew from my life force because it was the only way to save hundreds if not thousands of lives?”
She nodded. “But—”
Touching his finger to her lips, he said. “Some things are more important than me. This is one of those things.”
“You want me to take Griogair?”
“I want you to think like a queen. Save the azuri and, if you can, save the Caledonian kingdom. If marrying Griogair does that, how can I say my feelings are more important?”
Eilidh put her hand on his cheek and smiled. “Your feelings
are
more important to me.”
He kissed her lightly. “You’ll do what you have to do, though.”
“I would have to lie with him, if I take him as my mate. It is our way.”
“I know, and I hate it. Holy shit, Eilidh, the idea of you having sex with him makes me want to rip his arms off, but you do what you have to do. He and I had a chat, and I think we understand each other somewhat. He knows you love me, but I know you will have to play the part. Just, please, tonight or tomorrow night, or whenever you have to seal the deal, close the door to my mind like you did before. I can be as strong as I have to for you. I can let you marry him. But don’t ask me to feel your thoughts when he touches you.” Munro’s chest tightened, and he hated that she would feel his anguish. But he wasn’t sure which of those emotions were his and which were hers. Resigned sadness, gratitude, respect, but mostly deep, passionate love.
She kissed him gently, a tear sliding down her cheek. “As you wish.”
Voices came from down the corridor, as though the house was suddenly filling with people.
“It’s time,” Munro said, and he stood to help her to her feet. “Your Majesty.” He smiled, putting as much genuine feeling into it as he could.
Oron walked into the room without knocking. Eilidh seemed unselfconscious about her nudity, even though Munro was flustered by the intrusion. “Why are you still here?” the elder asked her.
“I was not summoned to the conclave,” Eilidh said, standing and retrieving her jeans from the floor.
“You weren’t?” Oron looked puzzled. “By faith, we forgot. Come now, milady. The Higher Conclave calls you to serve your people.”
“Yes, Elder.” Eilidh pulled her shirt over her head. “Oron,” she began, “I want to ask a few questions before I am crowned. It won’t take long, but I want to understand what—”
A huge groaning growl echoed from outside. The earth began to shake, and the bed swung hard, hitting Munro squarely on the thigh. “Away from the window,” he shouted, pulling Eilidh to the ground, just as the glass shattered.
Eilidh’s eyes went wide, and she shouted, “The protective enchantments have gone. I can feel the earth flows.”
Oron opened the door and staggered to the corridor, even as the ground beneath them continued to heave. “Protect our future queen!” he shouted. “We are under attack!”