Authors: Cindy Spencer Pape
“Stand up straight!” No, nothing had changed. Sinead was still standing at her elbow, hissing commands.
Criminy, put the woman in a black habit and she could have taught at St. Francis. Thank God she didn’t have a ruler.
“So we’ve moved from Alice to Cinderella?”
Meagan jumped when she heard the soft voice whisper in her ear, the one away from Sinead. “Ric!”
He steadied her with a warm hand on her bare elbow and dropped into a bow. “My lady.”
She bit her lip to keep from telling him to knock it off.
He wasn’t mocking her, she knew that. He was mocking his own overblown culture. “Get up, you idiot.”
He gave her a conspiratorial grin as he did. “How are you holding up?”
“Fine.” She’d been treated like a sideshow freak at dinner by some and she was heartily sick of Sinead, but the effusive welcome from Eada and company more than made up for that. “Be better if I could breathe in this dress without fear of falling out.”
He groaned. “Oh great. Now I’ve got that image in my head. Knew I shouldn’t have worn leggings.”
She rolled her eyes and laughed. Pointy ears or not, he was still such a guy.
“Damn straight,” he whispered. “And thinking about sex every seven seconds is only the average. I like to think I’m ahead of the curve.”
“Oh there’s not a damn thing average about you and you know it. So what am I supposed to be doing here? Mingling? Sinead seems to think I should do nothing but stand in a corner and smile.”
“How about a dance?”
“Yeah, right. Like I know the steps. What is that they’re doing, a minuet?”
“Something like that. But I’ve got an in with the band. Can you waltz?”
“Yeah. For some odd reason, they taught us ballroom dance in PE at Catholic school. Since I’m short, I usually even got to be the girl.”
His laugh was almost as intimate as a caress. “Then I’ll go see what I can do. Want me to bring you something to drink when I come back?”
“Sure, as long as it’s low-octane. Something tells me I really don’t want to be table-dancing at this party.”
“One sparkling water coming right up.” He turned to a man behind him and gestured. The older man—at least she thought he was older; it was still so hard to tell with these elves—wore the uniform of the queen’s guards.
“And one waltz. Meanwhile, Meagan, this is Kieran. The queen has assigned him as your bodyguard for the next forty-eight hours.”
She snorted. “Like I need another one?”
Ric glared and it looked like the guard suppressed a grin. Meagan knew the danger was genuine, but it still seemed so surreal, she didn’t know how much more she could take without falling down in hysterical laughter.
She smiled back. None of this was his fault after all.
“Nice to meet you, Kieran.”
He bowed, then gave her an actual smile and shook her hand. “Delighted, my lady.” He nodded at Ric, who faded off into the crowd.
“Overwhelming, isn’t it?”
Meagan nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned toward the new, surprisingly friendly voice.
The tall, dark-haired woman who stood there was dressed as opulently as everyone else in the room, but something about her appearance was different. It took Meagan a second to figure it out. “You’re human.”
“You’re observant. My name is Belinda Bennett, or it was. Here, it’s been Lady Willow for the last century or so.” Her accent was English, Meagan thought.
“You’ve been here a hundred years? You don’t look a day over forty.”
“I’m life-bonded to a member of the Fae. Didn’t anyone tell you about that?”
Life-bonding. Oh, yeah, she remembered the phrase.
“That’s why my mother died right after I was born.”
Kind blue eyes clouded over as they gazed at Meagan.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. That is the risk we take. When you link your life to another’s, neither can survive long without the other. But there is a positive side. Instead of my husband’s life span being shortened to match mine, mine has been extended to match his. I was thirty when we married. That was in 1893.”
“Have you ever been back?” Meagan’s brain was processing the new information.
“For visits. Frequently while my mother was living and our children were young, but less often as time went on. My husband was assigned to Paris for a few years after the Second World War. Mostly, though, his duties have revolved around the court, so we’ve been based here.”
“And your duties?” Meagan quirked an eyebrow.
“How in the world do you occupy yourself amid all of this?”
Belinda laughed, a warm, throaty chuckle. “You mean other than order servants around and eat bon-bons?” Her pink-painted lips twisted into a grimace, but her eyes twinkled. “I’d go crazy in a week. Actually, I write.”
Ooh, another artist of sorts. “Really? What do you write?”
“Novels. Mostly romance these days.” There was a knowing grin on the lovely face.
“And are your books sold in this world, or the other one?”
“Both. I’ve had a number of pseudonyms over the years, of course. Can’t let one incarnation go for more than a handful of decades. But it keeps me out of trouble. It also helps that we don’t live here. Not in the palace. I know you’ve only seen this piece of it, but there is a whole world outside these walls, you know. We have a portal between our apartment here and our home. I’d be surprised if you didn’t have the same.”
Did she? “I’ll have to find out. Thank you.”
“No problem. I do remember how awkward it was to adjust. And I had a husband to help. Anything you need, let me know. Have you learned to use the scrying balls yet?”
“No.” Though she’d seen one in the corner of her sitting room.
“Well, we’ll make sure that’s the first lesson, as soon as that bloody council meeting is over. I know my Cynric is terribly worried about that. What happened to your parents—it could have been any of the mixed couples at court. I don’t think Cyn let me out of his sight for a year after Emery was killed. There were two or three other assassinations at that same time. Then one of the killers was caught and executed and things died down again for a while. Now it seems to all be coming back.”
“So why aren’t you hiding?” Meagan was slowly coming to grips with the idea that race and political intrigue were going to be issues for the rest of her life.
She would always be a halfling, always be on the radar of the elven equivalent of the Ku Klux Klan. Life had been a whole lot simpler when she was just a flaky artist.
“Mainly because I choose not to.” The older woman tipped her head at the man standing directly behind her and he nodded briefly in response. “Hiding would be giving the bastards too much power over my life. I take precautions. Like you, I have bodyguards when needed. But my value as a target is reduced, since I have two grown children who would inherit Cynric’s seat on the council. I’m afraid your father was targeted in an attempt to seat one of Owain’s supporters in his place before he could produce an heir. I’ll wager Diarmud watched his mirror for days, waiting for the mark to appear. When it never did, it became apparent that somewhere in the worlds, you existed and the seat remained vacant till you were found.”
Meagan shook her head. “This all seems so surreal. There’s still a part of me that thinks somebody must have slipped something in my drink that night at the bar when I met Ric and that everything since has all been one long acid trip.”
Belinda reached out, the candlelight shooting sparks off the gems that dotted her soft white fingers. She took Meagan’s chilly fingers and squeezed them softly.
“You’ll be fine. And, yes, I know what an acid trip is. In order to stay current for my books, I do spend some time every year in the human realm. I’ve even grown addicted to a few television programs. One of my daughters is in New York at the moment. She TiVos episodes of
Lost
and saves them for when I visit.”
She shook her head and bit her lip as if debating whether or not to continue, but she tipped her chin and did. “But if by Ric, you mean Alaric the Bard, please remember that finding you was an assignment for him. He’s been the queen’s favorite agent for many, many years and quite openly her favorite sex toy, as well. And according to Cynric, the price Llyris demanded for failure was an extreme one. I’m afraid he has quite the reputation for breaking hearts.”
“Ah, Belinda the beauteous. Love you too, darling.”
Ric had slipped up beside Meagan without her noticing and he leaned over to take Belinda’s hand. He bowed over it and placed a kiss on the jeweled fingers, giving Meagan a rueful smile. “And the price was a steep one indeed. Fail to find the heiress and I’d be spending the next fifty years or so living out a miserable human existence.”
Belinda gasped, but Meagan only snorted as she took the goblet he held out to her. “Humans are not necessarily miserable.”
He released Belinda’s hand and captured Meagan’s, which he raised to his lips for an altogether different kind of kiss. Meagan fought to appear unaffected, even though the small of her back broke out in a sweat and her knees turned to rubber. Then Ric sighed and his expression turned serious. “No, I’m aware of that. But if I’d failed, Owain’s faction would be revoking the nonaggression treaty. And I’m afraid the mortal realm would have become an unpleasant place indeed.”
“That’s me. Meagan, warrior princess, savior of the universe.” She sipped the sparkling water with a happy sigh.
“All of which is more true than you’re willing to accept.” Ric’s face was still set in harsh lines, his voice dead serious. He nodded at Belinda. “And yes, it’s true I serve the queen. In whatever capacity she requires, whether I care for it or not.” His gaze softened as it returned to Meagan. “I told you I’m not a nice man.”
“It’s okay. I’m not as naïve as you think, Ric. I had figured a few things out on my own.” She hated the thought of Llyris touching him with those skinny fingers, but she wasn’t about to admit it.
“I believe I see my husband across the room.”
Belinda’s chuckle was barely audible. “And I’m clearly unnecessary here. We’ll talk sometime soon, Lady Rose. Stay safe.” She whirled away in a flurry of silken tissue.
“Well, it looks like you’ve made a friend.”
“Yeah, it was kind of nice to have someone not look at me like I was a two-headed poodle. She seems nice.”
“As far as I know, she is. And you will make friends here, Meagan, I promise. There are a lot of good people at court. There are also a lot of snakes. I’d trust Lady Willow to help you sort them out from each other. Making friends with her is a good start.”
“Cool. Now isn’t that the waltz you promised me?”
His smile went straight to her heart. “I believe it is.”
He bowed low over her hand. “Lady Rose, may I have the honor of this dance?”
After setting her goblet aside, she smiled and nodded, mimicking the behavior she’d been observing. “Indeed.”
With her hand in his, he led her out to the dance floor.
Waltzing with Ric was like being in a dream sequence in a movie. It was so perfect it wasn’t quite real. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed being in his arms all day. He was so much taller than her that her nose fit perfectly into the depression between his pecs. His velvet tunic was belted over a blousy silk shirt, padding the hard planes of his chest when she laid her cheek against it.
“Have I told you how lovely you are tonight?” His rich baritone was soft as silk against her hair. “Almost as beautiful as you are in a tank top spattered with paint.”
“Goof.” But it meant a lot to know he still saw the real Meagan, not just Cinderella in the gown. “Don’t suppose you can sneak into my room tonight.”
“Mmm. As a matter of fact, I have royal permission to keep you in sight until after the council meeting. After that—well, you’ve met the queen. I can’t promise anything, Meagan. All I can do is promise you that I’ll always be honest about things, at least when we’re alone.”
It wasn’t enough, not nearly. But she knew that his honesty was a gift in itself and she forced a brave smile.
“Then that’s a promise I’ll take, Sir Alaric. If all we have is a few stolen moments, we’d better make the best of them hadn’t we?”
He was still mulling over ways to keep that promise as they walked back to her apartments. Her guardsman and master of hounds led the way and Ric had to admit the dogs were a good idea, though he hoped he was in the room when Calculus was introduced to the household.
And he didn’t really like the idea of leaving Meagan in the hands of anyone whose loyalties he couldn’t vouch for personally. Fortunately for his peace of mind, Kieran followed behind, sword ready. There was no way Owain didn’t have more dirty tricks up his sleeve and it was driving Ric nuts waiting for the next attack.
“Have you seen this place?” Meagan squeezed his arm. “I can’t get over it.”
“Yeah, I saw it. When I was assigned to find you, I did do my research first, you know. And if you think the apartment’s something, wait till you see the estate. That’s where the family actually
lived
you know.”
“Speaking of that…”
Uh-oh. Ric tensed, waiting to hear what her agile mind had come up with this time.
“Nobody ever told me exactly where Rosemeade is—geographically, I mean. You said the palace is near Stonehenge and you grew up in the Underhill version of Wales. Where does my family come from?”
“Ireland, actually. On the southern coast.”
That was cool—how fitting that her adopted parents had been of Irish descent. She smiled and went on.
“Belinda says there’s probably a portal between the apartment and Rosemeade. Do you think there is?”
“There is.”
Oh, shite
, he could see where this was going and the security crew wasn’t going to like it a bit. “I used it to visit the estate before I came to Detroit.”
“Great! Then you can show me how to use it!”
“After the meeting—”
She cut him off before he could finish. “No. Not after the damn meeting. Now. Tonight. I’m damn sick of my entire life revolving around some stupid vote.”
He looked down, saw her arms crossed over her chest and her jaw set in an unmoving line. She wasn’t going to budge on this and if he didn’t help her, she’d probably sneak off on her own. “Fine.”