by Joey W. Hill
Rhoswen’s brow creased. “The sky falling?”
“It’s a story called Chicken Little. I’ll explain later.” Lyssa pushed past that. “I have a more illustrative example. My majordomo, Elijah Ingram, was a military man. He has several guns. When John, his grandson, was eight years old, he showed him how to load and unload them, took him to a gun safety course, and made sure he understood the dangers and uses of the weapons. A couple years later, John was visiting a friend. The friend took him into a closet where his father’s gun was, and was going to show it off to him. He knew nothing about gun use or safety, because his parents kept the weapon hidden from him and provided him no knowledge of it, which simply turned it into a mystery that could not be resisted. The child of course had figured out where they kept the gun and the passcode to the lockbox. The gun was loaded.”
Lyssa shook her head. “John took the gun away from his friend, unloaded it, showed him the proper use of it and warned him of all the dangers. Then they put it away and went to play video games. John told his grandfather about the incident when he came home. In short, to John, it was matter-of-fact, no big mystery, but a very real danger he understood enough to protect his friend.”
“Not all children are that mature.”
“Most can be, if they are encouraged to grow up at the proper rate. Parents have one purpose—to help their children grow into responsible adults who are ready to inherit the leadership and protection of our societies. Not to keep them eternal children, overly protected and so never able to make responsible choices on their own.” Lyssa softened. “I think you have reacted to the terrible things of the past, as we have, and not without good reason. The way through this lies somewhere in between our collective viewpoints. But when I am bogged down in a difficult decision, sometimes I find everything rests on one simple question.”
She met her sister’s ice blue eyes. “Do you truly want to lose Keldwyn’s counsel?”
Rhoswen’s lips pursed. “Do I have to answer that question with him standing there?”
“Whatever your answer, I will assume you abhor me as always, Your Majesty,” Kel responded.
Lyssa rose and approached the throne, sitting down on the narrow steps that bisected the waterfalls. She placed her hand on her sister’s ankle, tugging at it. Despite the conflicting emotions roiling in his gut, it was so much like a younger sister playfully badgering an older one, Uthe had to suppress a smile. The two queens had come far in a short time.
“We are currently examining a policy that grants further protections to our servants. It will not change the fundamental power structure of the relationship. A servant’s devotion must be tested with complete capitulation to the will of the vampire mistress or master. But abuses of such a gift will be addressed. The essential form and purpose of the relationship is maintained, but there is more breathing room to deal with that issue on a case by case basis. As we have done there, why not consider Keldwyn and Uthe a test case for this situation? They will not only be an example of the further cooperation we can achieve together but, between the two of them, they have the experience and knowledge to study their own situation and suggest ways to apply it to the broader picture.”
Lyssa glanced at Uthe. He didn’t disagree with her. He was just wondering if all the topics being raised in this audience might end his relationship with Keldwyn before it truly began. The Fae Lord’s mind was still silent to him, his focus on his queen. Uthe didn’t venture into his mind now. The same intuition that guided both him and Kel as advisors told him when it was appropriate to delve into the Fae Lord’s head, connect to his thoughts. That’s what he told himself, though a darker part of him wondered if he was keeping his distance because he didn’t want to have to suffer the pain of Keldwyn ordering him to do so.
Rhoswen shook her head. “I think no matter how we change the starting gate, it always ends up the same. King Tabor? You are uncharacteristically silent. Or are you more interested in the food and wine than the discussion?”
Tabor had propped a booted foot on the chair Lyssa had vacated and pushed his own back on two legs, a casual position that didn’t dilute the sharpness of his eyes. “You like to throw darts when you realize you’re changing your mind, my Queen. It is one of your many irresistible qualities.”
He brought the chair down to all four legs. “Free will is a great responsibility, but one I think we can manage. We’ve certainly handled worse. I support Keldwyn continuing as your liaison and mine, and to the Vampire Council. He would be sorely missed by my advisors and myself.”
“You would miss having him as part of your hunting parties,” Rhoswen said tartly. “Men are fairly the same across worlds.”
“Just another example of the qualities that connect us all,” Tabor rebounded.
“And the law about a Fae feeding a vampire, let alone being marked by one?”
Tabor shrugged. “We are not a democracy, Queen Rhoswen. Yes, we have our laws, but you have a certain amount of discretion to permit this relationship, especially if we deem it to be in the overall best interests of our people.”
“Your Majesties, Lady Lyssa?” Uthe stepped forward. “May I have your leave to speak?”
Now at last, Keldwyn turned toward him, met his gaze. While Uthe couldn’t read anything from his face, this wasn’t about the two of them now. Rhoswen waved a hand. “There is an abundance of hot air in the room. Please, feel free to add to it.”
Despite the biting response, Uthe bowed courteously. “Free will and choice, balancing that against the preservation of the species and its overall wellbeing, is the most challenging question leaders of worth face. Not changing is easiest, but change has a way of imposing itself regardless, in even more volatile ways than if it were managed. We see it happen in nature all the time, and you would have the greatest awareness of that. As you pointed out, the Fae are more closely aligned with nature than the rest of us.”
When her eyes narrowed, he continued smoothly, not wanting to plant the incorrect idea he was using the Fae Queen’s words against her. “That says to me, with the correct steps and measures, you may be the species most capable of managing and weathering those changes.”
Well done, Varick.
He inclined his head slightly, but kept his gaze on the Queen.
“Ultimately, we come back to motive. Motive lies in mutual benefit.” Rhoswen shook her head. “Saturating our curiosity about tiny music players and indulging an addiction to French fries doesn’t suggest a long term benefit to my species from contact with the human one. They, and you, could gain many benefits from your exposure to the Fae, but what do you provide us except an anthropology lesson about two other species? The history of the human world suggests those tribes living more in harmony with nature get dragged down and destroyed. Which I see as a cautionary tale for the Fae who wish to interact in that world. Since vampires fully indulge in all those elements of human ‘progress,’ I do not see them improving the situation.”
She had him there. She and Tabor needed to do what would benefit their people the most, for the present and future. It was what Uthe, as an advisor, would counsel his own queen if they faced the same question. It was the root of what they’d discussed in the servant policy. Small or large, the issue was the same. How much change was good?
Keldwyn cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him.
“Well, thank the gods. I was beginning to think feeding a vampire had numbed your tongue,” Rhoswen said.
“I have been considering the wisdom of all sides of the argument, Queen Rhoswen. As I always do.”
“And now, as usual, you are going to tell me how we are wrong?” she asked, her gaze fixed upon him.
Keldwyn shook his head. “No, Your Majesty. It is true. The Fae could provide a wealth of gifts to humans and vampires. Knowledge, magic…they would top the list. As I have noted, Lord Uthe’s Ennui appears to improve after each feeding. Perhaps Fae blood has the key to that affliction, though that is a sweeping statement with no scien
tific backing.”
“And one I would advise you to keep to yourself, for our people are not going to become a feeding trough for sickly vampires,” Rhoswen said, frost returning to her expression. Lyssa’s eyes cooled at that insult.
Knew she wasn’t going to go for that one, Uthe thought. But Kel didn’t look concerned, which told Uthe he was working his way to another point.
“I think no matter what we embrace in this life, how many marvels we learn or discover, the ability to share all that with another soul, one with whom we connect in a way that makes us feel whole, not alone… That is arguably the most precious gift any of us can ever receive. When we go on the Hunt at Samhain and see the reunions between those beyond the Veil with their family here, that connection, that love, is the essence of magic, of Divine Energy itself. If Lord Reghan found it with a vampire, if our Fae have found love with humans in the past, and we know they have, this is perhaps the most important benefit we may be overlooking with them. We need to stop looking only for the gifts we see in the mirror of our species. There are gifts we might see beyond its reflection, if we tear our gaze away from ourselves.”
Keldwyn backed up two steps, pivoted on his heel. The deliberate movement kept him angled toward his monarch but turned his attention fully to Uthe, for all to see. “After these many long years, Lord Uthe has provided that for me. So if you are seeking an impartial opinion on whether we can or cannot receive benefit from our interactions with either vampires or humans, I am no longer the person to ask.”
The wall came down in Keldwyn’s mind and he pulled Uthe into it, as decidedly as if he’d reached out and pulled him into a physical embrace. Yet despite the storm of emotions he showered upon Uthe, the Fae Lord’s expression remained mild, unchanged. As an advisor, Uthe was impressed the Fae could conceal so much from those around them. As his lover, his response was an equal surge of emotion. Kel’s voice resounded in his head, reassuringly irritable.
I have offered my love to you, Varick, privately and now publicly. You think I came upon that lightly, without considering everything a vampire is? You mistake my lack of response. It was annoyance with you, for doubting me so easily. I have as much blood staining my heart as you do. I could not protect my children, and I have lost all of them. I have made decisions that weigh as heavily upon my soul as yours do. And you, your touch, your mind, your soul…they ease that burden.
Before Uthe could think of anything that would answer that remarkable statement, Keldwyn had returned his attention to his Queen. “Not too long ago, I embraced the idea that I was superior, merely because that was what we believe of our species. But perhaps that is the biggest danger of isolating ourselves from one another. We forget how very much alike we all are.” His gaze shifted to Lyssa. “I expect that is the primary reason you, the most powerful vampire in your world, are contemplating changes to your relationships with your servants. Love is an equalizer, no?”
Marking Kel was one thing, even Kel feeding him, but the Fae Lord stating his feelings and intentions so baldly, it had a decided impact on their audience. Rhoswen went motionless, a glittering ice statue. Lyssa and Tabor also seemed to be momentarily without response. For Lyssa, Uthe suspected it wasn’t the power of Keldwyn’s unexpectedly forthright words. The Fae Lord had ever been clever-tongued. No. It was the emotions behind the words, emotions he gave free rein now, not only to Uthe but to their audience, letting them see his heart in his eyes.
Truth, it held Uthe pretty much frozen. He would have laughed at himself, letting the sentiment of proclaimed love paralyze a vampire as old and experienced as himself, but Keldwyn was right. When that connection was true, it mattered not if one was their age or Catriona’s. The power of it was sweeter, deeper and more overwhelming than all magic combined.
Keldwyn moved forward then, to the edge of the rippling pool beneath Rhoswen’s throne, the receptacle for the waterfalls’ flow. Courteously, Lyssa rose and returned to her seat, clearing the area between him and his queen.
Drawing his sword, Kel palmed the blade across his body and knelt before her, lowering his head. “Our relationship has not been an easy one, my lady. We have suffered and wounded one another, mostly as mitigation from wounds left us by those we loved, whether or not that love was invited or deserved. Though I have not said it outright, you know the truth. You have ever had my fealty, which is why I’ve often directed you in ways that angered you. I would never do you the injustice of spending more time kissing your lovely ass than protecting it and, by extension, the world and people we love so well.”
Rhoswen’s jaw tightened, but she did not move. Taking it as assent to continue, Keldwyn did. “As I said, you may do with me as you will. But I ask you…beg you, not to punish Catriona for loving me too much.”
After a weighted moment, Rhoswen rolled her eyes and rose. She descended the throne to stand before him. “Oh, get up. Always trying to outplay me with your smooth words, courtly airs and now romantic notions. I relied on you never to get moony about love. You have failed me utterly.”
When Keldwyn lifted his head, she touched his face, a bemused contact that lingered. He dipped his head into her touch, and she sighed. “I will never welcome bridges between our worlds as you all do. I have internalized our losses and failures too deeply. But there is merit to your points. We cannot stop change; hence we must deal with how to permit free will enough rein not to hang itself. I expect there is no better choice available than you and Lord Uthe to show both our peoples how to balance the wellbeing of all with the care for the individual heart, and bring the two together as best we may.”
Her expression changed then, her face getting more closed and yet more fragile at once. When she spoke, though, her voice was gentle and the touch on Kel’s shoulder was firm. In that moment, Uthe saw the ruler in her that Keldwyn saw. “I will not necessarily give you my blessing, but I do offer a hope for your happiness. My father would be pleased you have found someone to love.”
Keldwyn lifted his head, gripped her wrist. “I know he loved you, Rhoswen. Deeply. Had he had the freedom to show his love for Lyssa’s mother, I expect he would have had far more opportunities to prove his feelings for you. Perhaps with these changes we can prevent something like what happened to him and his family from happening to someone else.”
“Perhaps. Let us just not call it progress. I cannot abide that word, for all the evils it represents.” Rhoswen sniffed. “Now, as to your ward…”
Keldwyn stiffened, but she stepped around him and moved to the center of the chamber. “Come stand before me, child.”
Uthe glanced toward Kel as the Fae Lord rose and turned. Though the male’s expression was tense, he nodded slightly. Uthe squeezed Catriona, a reassurance. The young woman moved toward the Queen with only a brief hesitation. Uthe saw her courage when she did her best to hold fast and not shrink before Rhoswen.
“You will be forgiven your transgression because of your pure intent.” When Rhoswen reached out and touched the girl’s face, Catriona jumped, an involuntary response, but she settled as Rhoswen made a quiet noise. “You will come to no harm from me today, Catriona. A ruler has to make difficult decisions. Regret is often part of those decisions, but it does not change why they must be done. You understand?”
Catriona, held under that piercing blue stare, pressed her lips together. When she shook her head, Rhoswen smiled without humor. “A sweet, honest child. No, of course you don’t. That’s the point, you see. Your world has yourself at the center, whereas for a ruler, her people always have to be at the center, even if she forgets that from time to time. I make right decisions and wrong decisions, and sometimes I don’t know which is which until much further down the road. I don’t think allowing you to stay captured in the human world for twenty years was the wrong decision, because it did dissuade other young Fae from making the same mistake you did. However, if I’d had another way to teach the lesson, I would have done so. A Queen doesn’t have the luxury of indulging her more tender feeli
ngs.”
Rhoswen stepped back, her familiar expression replaced by her usual imperious mask. “I overlook your tremendous disrespect today in exchange for your involuntary service to that lesson. Understood?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Catriona curtsied on shaking knees. Keldwyn had approached and drew her to his side, grasping her elbow to steady her.
“Now be gone,” Rhoswen said. “It would be best if I didn’t see you for quite some time, because you are not on the best side of my temper right now.”
Catriona looked toward Keldwyn, a quick flash of happiness for him crossing her face. She indulged a quick hug of his neck before she fled the room, likely as swiftly as she’d entered it. As she fluttered over him, one of the guards groaned, beginning to push himself up off the floor.
“Did you have to hit him like a battering ram?” Rhoswen said crossly. The Fae Lord glanced at the stirring guard.
“That one wasn’t mine. Mine is the one that is still unconscious.”
Rhoswen’s gaze snapped to Uthe. Uthe cleared his throat, aware of Lyssa’s amused look. “I did have the advantage of surprise, my lady. Else I’m sure he would have made a better accounting of himself.”
“It will go all the worse for him when Cayden learns he let a vampire dispatch him.” Rhoswen shook her head, waved a hand. The two men dissipated into the floor like melting ice, an alarming effect until she explained. “I’ve put them back in their bunks in the barracks. When they wake up, they can explain to Cayden why they are not at their posts. It’s ridiculous to think I need constant protection anyway, particularly when I am meeting with the strongest allies I have.”
She swept her gaze over Tabor and Lyssa. A pleased smile on his face, Tabor gave her a half bow. Lyssa blinked at her like a green-eyed cat, and Rhoswen’s lips twisted at the expression. She threw a look at Keldwyn. “Since you have resolved the most important issue before us today, we can work out the details of our Yule celebration on our own. You and your vampire may go.”
