She rounded on Tolin. “Why have I not been approached by Prince Tràth to take part of the meal with him?”
Tolin blinked in surprised. “But, Princess, you’d expressed such outrage at his tardiness. We’d never insult you further by expecting you to dine with him after such shabby treatment.”
Only willpower prevented Imena from growling in frustration. She watched Tràth turn toward the door, then caught Queen Eilidh looking at her expectantly.
Tolin touched her sleeve. “If I may escort you one last time, Your Highness? The sweets will be served at any moment.” In fact, most other guests had worked their way to their tables. Tràth had just departed through the main exit.
“Why is he leaving?” she asked Tolin quickly.
Her escort shrugged. “Tràth does things like that, I’m afraid. I imagine you’re relieved he’s not trying to court you. He really is an unsuitable royal, if you’ll pardon my saying so.”
Impulsiveness was not Imena’s normal manner, but the events of the evening had pushed her beyond reason. “Tolin, would you express my apologies to the queen?”
“Your apologies?”
“I’m feeling a bit dizzy,” she said. “The air in the Halls of Mist is thick. I’m unaccustomed to such exposure.”
The prince furrowed his brow. “Shall I call for a healer?”
“No, thank you.” Thinking quickly, she added, “Please extend my sincere gratitude. Tell Her Majesty I will speak favourably to my mother of the Caledonian Hall.”
“I’m delighted to hear that, of course,” Tolin said. “You’re certain I can’t offer you anything? Do you need assistance back to your rooms?”
“No,” she said, backing away. She turned and bowed her head in Eilidh’s direction, then scurried out of the room with as much dignity as possible while rushing after Prince Tràth.
She ran along the corridor, startling servants as she went. What am I doing? For the first time in six months of being courted and wooed by so many, she was fascinated. The large, central stairway was empty. He must have sped ahead of her. She sighed.
As she turned, she saw a small garden off the main hall. The sky was growing lighter as the pale sun crept toward the horizon. Soon, morning would come. If not for the prince’s distinctive black hair, she wouldn’t have been able to make out his figure in the hazy evening. He sat facing outward, staring over a short wall into the endless mists beyond. His shoulders slumped. Although she only saw him in profile, she could tell he looked tired. She stood, frozen, uncertain if she should sneak away. Then he turned to her, offering a sad smile that spoke more loudly than words. “Hello, Princess,” he said.
∞
After Eilidh left his room, Tràth had hurried to get ready, taking care with his appearance. He wanted to make a good impression on Eilidh, if not on Princess Imena, whom he still had no intention of courting. On his way down the main stair, Eilidh’s voice had sounded in his head. I have a plan that might kill two birds with one stone. If you’re willing to play a bit of a game tonight, do not enter the dining hall until the second course is about to be served, then come directly to me. I will explain.
Intrigued, he played along, asking one of the stewards to tell him when the time was right. He’d waited in a side room near the dining hall, out of sight. As instructed, he approached the queen. Thanks to her, his mind was blissfully clear. The enduring presence of the time stream was not a burden for the first time in his life, at least the first time that he’d been sober. On impulse, he kissed her cheek. “Good evening, Mother,” he said. He’d not even called Queen Cadhla by that title, and she’d given birth to him. Addressing a faerie fifty years younger than him as such was ludicrous. And yet, the expression was heartfelt.
Rather than laughing at him, Eilidh smiled warmly and invited him to join her for the second course. “My plan might be ridiculous,” she said as he lay on the low dining lounger adjacent to hers. “Your father was doubtful, but although I don’t know everything about politics, I understand women.” She paused and sampled the roasted nut squash on her plate. “When Princess Imena arrived, she was understandably annoyed. My astral abilities do not allow me to read minds, but I can sense…vibrations, if you will.”
Tràth nodded, fascinated. Eilidh had gained an admirable level of mastery over her talents.
“At first, I thought to soothe her irritation, but decided against the idea. Like most, she is probably wary of my abilities, and therefore on guard against any form of illusion. If she sensed I was manipulating her, the result would be disastrous.”
“I can imagine,” he said.
“Then, I realised she was more annoyed that her curiosity regarding you hadn’t been sated than at the rudeness of your late arrival. My suggestion is this: avoid the princess all night. My mates can occupy her for some of the courses. I will send mind-messages to others to ask them to do the same. I’ll use gentle nudges of influence to other guests to provide a barrier. If she gets too close, I’ll warn you.”
Tràth chuckled. “Elaborate yet amusing. To what end do you frustrate the princess so?” From the broad smile on Eilidh’s face, she was clearly enjoying herself.
“My thought is two-fold. One, it relieves you from making inane conversation with someone you have no interest in courting.” Her expression turned serious. “I was wrong to ask that of you. There were circumstances I didn’t understand at the time. I do hope you will forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Mother.” Every time he addressed her as such, he experienced an unfamiliar sensation of belonging.
“Second,” Eilidh said, “Already her interest in you has overshadowed her irritation about our little lapse in protocol. We have the added benefit of catching her off balance. She expected us to grovel, to throw you out like an offering.” The queen smiled. “This maple sauce is lovely.”
“Indeed,” Tràth said, enjoying himself unexpectedly. “What do you require of me after the dinner?”
Eilidh shrugged. “Probably best if you leave before it’s over. Perhaps as the final course begins? I’ll invite her to join me for the sweets. She can’t refuse without risking insult to me.” The queen put her utensils down. “So are you up for a bit of a dance tonight?”
“I think so,” he replied. “Thank you.” Despite what she claimed, he suspected Eilidh had orchestrated most of this to protect him from awkward questions and apologies. It embarrassed him that she knew what had happened with Douglas, but her aid was worth the discomfort. He had no interest in even feigning a courtship invitation.
As if on cue, guests began to rise from their lounges to mingle and taste the next wine. Two elders approached the queen, and Tràth took the opportunity to take his leave. He did as she suggested, inviting himself to enjoy the next course with the Caledonian ambassador to Tvorskane, a distant relation.
He stayed aware of Princess Imena’s presence all evening. Occasionally, Eilidh would whisper a thought into his mind, telling him the princess was headed his way. Cousin Tolin, the Mother of the Earth bless him, did a masterful job of steering her in another direction.
Just before the last course, he said goodnight to Eilidh and made a discreet departure. He hadn’t gone a dozen steps before she sent an urgent message to his thoughts. She’s following you. If you want to avoid her, hurry.
Tràth did as Eilidh suggested, stopping time long enough to get a head start. After the exhaustion he’d experienced stopping time so long the day before, he didn’t dare do more than give himself a moment to get away. He ducked into an alcove that led into a garden. Listening hard, he didn’t hear any footfalls. With a sigh, he sat down as the sky grew lighter. The sunrises in the Halls of Mist appeared lacklustre and vague, and he found himself missing the more substantial essence of Caledonia. Without warning, he felt a surge as Douglas’ presence moved from the library and down the narrow bridge that led to the Druid Hall.
His druid was tired. Since their talk, Douglas had spent most of his time in the library
, presumably feeding the Source Stone. Tràth wasn’t sure what that involved, but it drained Douglas’ energy. Soon, Tràth thought. Soon he’d be able to relieve Douglas of his presence and the pressure of the bond. Maybe then, they’d both get some rest. Eilidh had been careful not to promise she could help, but Tràth pinned his hopes on her anyway.
While he lost himself in thought, someone approached. He hadn’t heard her, but he sensed a strong fae presence closing in. He turned and gave her his best smile. “Hello, Princess.”
She appeared uncertain, as though now that she’d caught up with him, words eluded her. “Good evening,” she said. Then she looked at the sky, then back at Tràth. “Or should I say ‘good morning’?”
The weight of her expectations pushed on him. He thought about using his time control to slip away, but that would be rude and undo Eilidh’s work of the evening. “Did you enjoy dinner?” he asked her.
She tilted her head. “I would have enjoyed it more so if my escort had arrived as promised.”
He tilted his head. “I’m sorry if Tolin did not amuse you, Princess.”
“Since we didn’t get a chance to dine together, perhaps we could take a walk?”
“As delightful as that sounds, I’m afraid I must decline,” he said. “The family is returning to Caledonia with the morn.”
“So soon? I’d expected Queen Eilidh to initiate trade negotiations.”
The statement surprised him. If this was true, Eilidh had done some significant rearranging in order to return to Caledonia with him, adjustments the princess either didn’t know about or didn’t like. “Is Zalia open to increasing exports to Caledonia?”
“Perhaps,” she said. “A final decision depends on the terms offered. But yes, overall, we are. That’s why I came, after all.”
Tràth considered her. Eilidh should stay and speak with Imena while she was in such a good mood. The Zalians were reputed to be tough negotiators. Another time, Imena might not be so amenable. “I’ll tell Her Majesty at the earliest opportunity.”
“Surely she can delay her return a day or two.” Her tone rang with an unasked question.
“Possibly,” he replied with a nod.
“In that case, we can take a walk after all.”
Tràth gave her what he hoped was a pleasant smile. “I’m afraid I’ll be leaving after dawn, even if Her Majesty stays. The air in the Halls of Mist does not agree with me.” His smile faded, and he glanced toward the Druid Hall. Douglas had gone to bed. Once more, he sensed the druid was not alone. The jealous pangs in his gut sickened him.
“Why are you avoiding me?” she asked, her sharpness breaking through his reverie.
Tràth was startled at her bluntness. “Princess, I assure you my behaviour has nothing to do with you. I truly am an unsuitable royal.”
“So I keep hearing,” she said, softening her expression. Her dark lips turned upward at one corner. “You don’t seem as mad as they say.”
He couldn’t help himself. He laughed aloud. “No?”
“No,” she said. “In fact, I find myself quite interested in you.”
“I’m flattered,” he said. “But you should listen to what so many have told you.”
When he turned to meet her eyes, she was looking at him intently, as though taking the measure of him. “Your queen spoke the truth, then. You have no intention of putting yourself forward as a potential mate.”
“No, Your Highness. I’m afraid not.” Weariness suddenly descended on him.
“Do you not think I am good enough for you?” She sounded affronted, but genuinely curious. “I will be a queen within this century. My kingdom is isolated, but we are not insignificant.”
Tràth looked at her, surprised again by her directness. “You are reputed to be talented and shrewd. No doubt you will become even more powerful than your mother. Any faerie would be honoured at your consideration.” He didn’t like to reveal too much of himself, especially to a stranger. But as he watched her, strands of time threaded out from her in an incredibly complex pattern. She influenced more than she realised. “I’m not being mysterious or clever.” He looked out over the mists, trying not to wonder who was in his druid’s bed. “I would bring you nothing but heartbreak.”
She hesitated, considering his words. “If you had no intention of pursuing my hand, why were you assigned to escort me tonight?”
He tilted his head. “In hindsight, that was a mistake. Forgive me.”
She furrowed her brow in frustration. “You confuse me greatly, Prince Tràth. I should be annoyed with you and furious with your queen.”
“But you aren’t?”
“No,” she said. “I find myself strangely compelled. Shall we perhaps be friends?”
Tràth stopped and met her gaze. The offer surprised him. “I don’t have many friends,” he said carefully.
“I don’t have any,” she told him. “I have suitors and advisors and mentors, attendants, servants, and a few sycophants I’m forced to tolerate, but no friends. I think I could be friends with you. You have a quality that tells me you understand my position as few others could. You are sincere, and I detect depth in your eyes. My kingdom is preparing for upheaval. My mother has ruled for three quarters of a millennium.” She paused. “Such impulsive thoughts are unlike me, but I see in you someone I would like to talk to.”
“I am humbled,” he said. He had friends in Caledonia, but not the kind that would be around if he wasn’t hosting a party with plentiful drink and smoke. He once counted the druids as friends, but they were foremost Douglas’ companions, not his. He and Eilidh had a budding friendship, but even with his affection for her, how far could he confide in his father’s mate? Besides, she was a queen. She bore heavy burdens, and he had little to offer in return for her kindness.
Before, he’d viewed Imena as a responsibility, not a person. Now he looked at her. She was beautiful in an exotic way, with her diamond-studded red skin. As he studied her, he recognised a familiar weariness in her eyes. “I would enjoy that,” he said.
A voice intruded in his mind. Come, if you are able. I am in the morning room on the fifth floor. We will begin our search for a way to close that door.
“What’s wrong?” Imena asked him. “You looked strange for a moment. Are you ill?”
Tràth shook his head. “Forgive me, Princess. The queen has summoned me telepathically. I must go at once.”
Disappointment was etched on her expression. “Here I’ve made a friend, the first in a very long time, and I’m saying goodbye already.”
“Don’t worry. If Zalia and Caledonia continue to improve relations, we will doubtlessly enjoy many opportunities to see one another. You might visit me. I have a small palace at the Gap of Bria. I would be happy to receive you.” He didn’t know what possessed him to offer such a thing. Only an hour before, he was putting all his efforts into avoiding her.
“I doubt my responsibilities will allow any time soon, but I’m honoured you would ask,” she said.
He bowed to her. “I must go. It’s rude to keep a lady waiting,” he said with a grin. He slipped out the door, leaving her to watch him as he trotted up the main stair.
Chapter 6
For two hours, Tràth sat with Eilidh in the high-walled garden off the morning room. Inside, Eilidh’s three mates lounged and chatted. Munro had brought the child with him, much to the queen’s chagrin. A couple of nurses accompanied him, although he did keep them hovering in the background.
“You’re not concentrating,” Eilidh said.
“My mind wanders,” Tràth told her. With her help, the focus had been easier, but after concentrating for so long, he was growing tired. They’d made some progress, isolating the place in his consciousness where his bond with Douglas lay, but he’d not been able to get near it. Any time he shifted his focus, his sense of Douglas grew stronger. In those moments, he felt as though the druid stood right beside him. “Our efforts run contrary to the desired effect.”
Eilidh t
ouched his hand. “Don’t worry. That’s normal for someone who has not attempted these types of exercises and meditations before. Plus, you’re grappling with an added distraction.” Tràth couldn’t be certain if she meant Douglas or the time stream, but he decided not to ask. “We should take a break. Some refreshment, perhaps?” she offered.
In the next room, Maiya gurgled with delight. Eilidh looked sharply in her direction. “I do wish he’d let the nurses take care of her, at least during the day. At this rate, English will be her first language.” She sighed.
Tràth didn’t like to argue, but he had less resistance to the breaking of tradition than she. One thing he couldn’t deny: Maiya seemed blissful when she was with her father.
A servant in Caledonian livery entered. Eilidh stood, looking pleased. “Finally. He should be bringing word we’re ready to depart for home.” She smiled at Tràth. “I’m eager for things to return to normal, and I’m sure you’re impatient to be away from the Halls.”
“Indeed,” he said, rising with her. Together, they went to the day room and joined her mates.
The servant bowed deeply. “Your Majesty, an emissary from the Zalian Hall arrived a few moments ago, saying he has been charged with making an inquiry.”
Eilidh frowned, and glanced at Griogair, then back at the steward. “An inquiry?”
The steward held out a leather-bound sheaf, which Eilidh accepted. “Interesting,” she said, glancing over the papers inside. She turned to Prince Koen. “Will you see to this emissary and offer all the comforts of our Hall? I want to be sure we cause no offense and give him no reason to report anything but that we paid him the highest honour. I will respond to the princess’ inquiry within the hour.”
Tràth suspected she was using this as an excuse to be rid of Koen, but her newest mate merely nodded his agreement and followed the steward out.
Caledonia Fae 05 - Elder Druid Page 8
