“Much better.” Sinead gave a crisp nod.
Meagan blinked. “You can actually change silk into gold?”
“Not at all. For a limited period of time, however, I can convince the silk to take on the appearance and properties of gold,” Sinead corrected. “When you wake tomorrow morning, it will have resumed its natural form.”
“This is all way too Cinderella,” Meagan muttered. It got even more so when Sinead blinked in a jewelry case about six inches square and four inches tall.
“Most of what your society believes to be fairy tales have some basis in fact.” Sinead didn’t bother to elaborate. “Now, for your first official function, you’ll need to wear the Rose family regalia.” She waved open the velvet box and withdrew an intricate, glittering crown.
“Coronet.” Sinead apparently read the word out of Meagan’s mind. “The queen wears a crown. Each of the noble houses, however, has a coronet.”
“Whatever.” Damn, she really had to work on shielding her thoughts. As Sinead placed the gemencrusted circlet on Meagan’s head, Meagan was forced to admit that it did make her look nobler. It was magnificent and somewhat intimidating, made of yellow and white gold, with red-gold roses woven throughout and decorated with rubies, diamonds and pearls. When Sinead placed it on Meagan’s head, Meagan could swear the reflection in the mirror actually started to glow.
“Well, no one will be able to deny that you are indeed the rightful heiress.” Sinead’s tone remained completely devoid of expression. “The coronet only re-sizes itself and illuminates for its true wearer.”
Peering into the mirror, Meagan saw that the circlet had gotten smaller and daintier than when Sinead had held it. It was now a much more feminine version of itself.
Sinead waved again and another case appeared. This one was flatter and Meagan was unsurprised when Sinead withdrew a necklace and clasped it around Meagan’s neck. It was a collar-style choker that matched the coronet, with an impossibly large teardrop pearl suspended from the center. The pearl felt warm where it nestled right at the start of Meagan’s cleavage and Meagan couldn’t help wondering what Ric would think about making love to her in the necklace and crown. And nothing else. Her skin flushed and she started to get damp from thinking about it. She was saved from eternal embarrassment only by the fact that she’d managed to throw her mental shields up before she’d let her mind wander. Sinead either didn’t know what Meagan was thinking about, or she was good at ignoring things.
Sinead kept up her steady stream of instructions as they left the apartment and were escorted down the wide marble-lined corridor to the queen’s dining room. Two of the queen’s own guards led the way through the maze of gilt and statuary, while Quinn, Liam and the two wolfhounds brought up the rear. Meagan had to fight the urge to grin at the thought of her own personal entourage.
The whole thing would have been a lot more fun, though, if Sinead would have shut up for even half a second.
“If she tastes a dish and nods, you may proceed. If she frowns, ignore that dish and wait for the server to remove it.”
“I heard you the first six times, Sinead. Don’t eat anything the queen doesn’t like. Don’t speak unless spoken to, don’t dance, don’t laugh, don’t play with matches or run with scissors. I get it, already.”
“Fine!” The elven woman’s mouth pinched shut and she glared down her nose at Meagan. “My lady.”
Meagan used every ounce of willpower she possessed not to roll her eyes and snort. Remember Catholic school, she told herself. You survived nuns with rulers. This should be a piece of cake. Except, of course, that at school, no one had been trying to kill her.
Chapter Sixteen
Dinner was—well—interesting. Meagan had never seen so much opulent excess in her life. Not even on old reruns of Dynasty. The only thing that kept her from hysterical laughter was abject terror. As guest of honor, she was seated right next to Her Majesty, of course. Ric was playing on a small dais away from the table, Aidan hadn’t arrived and Sinead was seated at a different table, so Meagan was on her own in the shark pool. Now she wished she’d paid more attention to Sinead’s instructions.
“I am pleased with your gift. The likeness to the folly on my estate is remarkable.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“I am also informed that you were able to transport an object with no training whatsoever. Is that also the case?”
Meagan kept her eyes fixed firmly on her plate and nodded again. “It was a life-or-death situation, Your Majesty. I’m not sure I could have done so under normal circumstances.”
“Possibly not. But the feat is nonetheless commendable. I have far more use for both of you alive than dead. My thanks for saving his sorry hide.”
“Not necessary, Your Majesty. I prefer my own hide in one piece, too.” She repressed a giggle, but couldn’t quite stop the grin that quirked her lips up. She hastily took a sip of the wine from her ornately carved silver goblet.
Apparently the queen was in an indulgent mood, because she smiled back. “Understood.” Then she peered at Meagan more intently. “And the bard? Do you prefer him intact as well?”
Uh oh. Meagan swallowed carefully trying not to choke on the wine and set her cup on the snow white tablecloth. This was the minefield she’d been expecting.
She didn’t get the feeling that Llyris was the sort of girl who liked to share her toys. She’d spent half the time Sinead was poking and prodding at her thinking of a response to this exact query.
“Ric has become—a friend,” she admitted. “I’ve come to respect his judgment and, I must admit, he’s no hardship to look at or listen to.” Keep it light, she’d decided. That was the way to play her relationship with Ric. She figured she could admit she enjoyed him, as long as she didn’t let anyone suspect that it went any further than that. Play the role of flaky artist for all it was worth.
“No, he has always proven to be—entertaining company.” The queen’s eyes were narrowed as she regarded Meagan.
Meagan forced herself to look at all the impossibly handsome elves lining the high table and to grin suggestively. “But the scenery here is full of attractions, isn’t it, Your Majesty? A girl could be entertained for quite some time.”
She must have hit it right, because a gleam of approval flickered in Llyris’s icy blue eyes. “Exactly, Lady Rose. I believe you will be a pleasant addition to our court.”
The queen spent the next several minutes being charming. She pointed out various members of the elven nobility and regaled Meagan with amusing anecdotes.
Meanwhile, Meagan couldn’t help wondering which of these faces hid minds ready to wage war on the entire human race. Owen Ferris wasn’t present, thank God. She doubted she was a good enough actress to play nice with him. Also conspicuously absent was the cousin who was next in line for Meagan’s title.
“So the council meeting is tomorrow?” Meagan asked the queen. “Is there anything special I need to know before the meeting? Some sort of oath or special protocol, any of that?”
“You will be thoroughly briefed prior to the session.”
The monarch’s tone turned cold again. “My lord chamberlain intends to meet with you in the morning.”
Meagan shivered. She had no doubt that if she even hinted about voting the wrong way, really bad things were going to happen. She nodded a polite thank you and turned her attention back to her food.
“Will ye go, lassie go…”
Meagan chewed her bland piece of—well, she supposed it was duck or chicken, or some other bird—and suppressed a smile. Without a direct word, Ric was reminding her he cared. After all, no one else in the room would know this was the song he’d sang to her the other night, right before they’d made love. Sure enough, not one of the diners even raised an eyebrow or turned to look at the bard in the corner.
His Meagan was doing him proud. She played the spoiled, slightly ditzy artist to perfection, without making herself look like an idiot. He wished he’d bee
n prepared for the way she looked in full court regalia. Not only was she drop-dead gorgeous in the elaborate ball gown, but seeing the glowing coronet entwined in her flame-colored hair served to remind him that she was utterly out of his league.
He knew she didn’t understand the mionn, the vow of loyalty he’d given her that night in her bedroom, but it was the second-strongest oath one of his kind could make.
His life for hers. Hell, she had that anyway. All she’d had to do was smile.
Llyris suspected something was up with him, that was a given. She’d have removed the geas if she didn’t. But it looked like she was accepting Meagan at face value, thank the goddess. So far the others at the table had been at least polite to her, some openly curious about her life in the mortal realm. She was holding her own and Ric couldn’t have been prouder. He couldn’t tell her so, not in so many words. But there were other ways. He strummed his lute and sang the song he’d known for centuries, but would now forever associate with Meagan.
“Will ye go, lassie go…”
After the formal dinner ended, Ric was allowed a brief time to eat in the kitchen of the queen’s apartment, while the diners refreshed themselves prior to the dancing and other entertainment. His mouth full of roast swan, Ric smiled a welcome as another man slid into the chair across from him.
“You called for help?”
Ric nodded and swallowed.
“With what?”
“You’ve heard about the new Lady Rose?” Ric poured another mug of cider, handed it to the guardsman before taking a drink of his own.
“Not being dead or deaf, I’ve heard.” Kieran chuckled and raised his mug to Ric. “Good job on finding her at last. I caught a glimpse in the throne room this afternoon. She’s got guts. Not to mention a nice pair of…” He broke off when Ric’s fist clenched around his throat.
“Sorry.” Ric forced himself to let go.
“Eyes,” Kieran finished hoarsely, with a knowing grin.
“Cute little thing, isn’t she?” He gulped his cider, wary eyes never leaving Ric’s face.
Ric scrubbed his hand across his face. “Shite. I am sorry, Kieran.”
Kieran waved a hand. “No worries. It had to happen sometime, lad, even to you.” He laughed. “Need me to write some poetry, do you?”
Ric laughed back. “No. I was thinking more along the lines of guard duty. Think you can put together a small cadre of volunteers to be assigned to the new arrival? Men you’d trust with your own life—or your mate’s?”
Kieran nodded. “The purists will be trying to put a knife in her back, no doubt about it. Aye, I can round up a team. Myself and Sean to start.”
“No. Not Sean.” Ric could ask his friend to risk his life, but not his son.
“’Tis only for a day, correct?”
Ric nodded. “The ball tonight. Then tomorrow until the hour of the council. I’ll convince the queen it was her idea.”
“Aye, that will be best. I’m off duty for the ball, but I can rearrange plans.” He raised one eyebrow and looked sideways at Ric. “You’ll be guarding her personally through the night?”
“Goddess, I hope so!”
“Well, there’s another layer of defense.” He drained his mug and stood. “I’ll see you at the ball in an hour.”
With that promise, the guardsman left the room as swiftly and silently as he’d entered.
“Well, Cinderella, welcome to the ball.” Meagan shook her head in wonder at the sights and sounds around her. The clothes were for the most part the same ones worn at dinner, but necklines had mysteriously lowered and the men’s leggings had mysteriously tightened, leaving virtually nothing to the imagination, for either gender. Meagan had to surreptitiously check her own gown, to be sure nothing had been modified.
“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 18
93.”
“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.”
Motor City Fae Page 20
