It was as close as I was going to get to a promise that she wouldn’t hurt me—yet. I perched on the high, backless stool, the heels of my shoes through one of the spindles to help keep my balance. Sometimes, I think Andais won chess matches simply because the other person’s back gave out.
I touched the edge of the heavy marble board. “My father taught me to play chess on the twin of this board,” I said.
“You do not have to remind me, yet again, that you are my brother’s daughter. I mean you no harm tonight.”
I caressed the board and glanced up at her, meeting those pleasant unreliable eyes. “Perhaps I would be less cautious if you didn’t say things like ‘I mean you no harm tonight.’ Perhaps, if you simply said you meant me no harm.” I made it half question, half statement.
“Oh, no, Meredith. To say that would be too close to lying, and we do not lie, not outright. We may talk until you think that black is white and the moon is made of green cheese, but we do not lie.”
I said, as evenly as I could, “So you do mean me harm, just not tonight.”
“I will not harm you if you don’t force it upon me.”
I looked at her then, frowning. “I don’t understand, Aunt Andais.”
“Have you ever wondered why I made my beautiful men celibate?”
The question was so unexpected that I simply stared at her for a second or two. I finally closed my mouth and found my voice. “Yes, Aunt, I have wondered.” Actually it had been the great debate for centuries: why had she done it?
“For centuries the men of our court spread their seed far and wide. There were many half-breeds but fewer and fewer full-blooded fey. So I forced them to conserve their energies.”
I looked at her. “Then why not allow them access to the women of the high court?”
She settled back against her chair, leather-clad hands caressing the carved arms. “Because I wanted my bloodline to continue, not theirs. There was a time when I would have preferred you dead than risk you inheriting my throne.”
I met her pale eyes. “Yes, Aunt Andais.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I knew.”
“I saw the mongrels taking over the entire court. The humans had chased us underground and now their very blood was corrupting our court. We were being outbred by them.”
“It is my understanding, Aunt, that humans have always outbred us. Something to do with the fact that they’re mortal.”
“Essus told me that you were his daughter. That he loved you. He also told me that you would make a fine queen someday. I laughed at him.” She watched my face. “I am not laughing now, Niece.”
I blinked at her. “I don’t understand, Aunt.”
“You have Essus’s blood in your veins. The blood of my family. I would rather have some of my blood continue than none of it. I want our bloodline to continue, Meredith.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by ‘ours’, Aunt?” Though I had a frightening feeling that I did.
“Ours, ours, Meredith, yours, mine, Cel’s.”
The addition of my cousin in the mix made my stomach clench tight. It was not unknown among the fey to marry close relatives. If that was what she had in mind, I was in very deep trouble. Sex was not a fate worse than death. Sex with my cousin Cel just might be.
I looked down at the chess pieces because I didn’t trust myself to guard my expression. I would not sleep with Cel.
“I want our bloodline to continue, Meredith, at any cost.”
I finally looked up, face blank. “What would that cost be, Aunt Andais?”
“Nothing so unpleasant as you seem to be thinking. Really, Meredith, I am not your enemy.”
“If I may be so bold, my aunt, neither are you my friend.”
She nodded. “That is very true. You mean nothing to me but a vessel to continue our line with.”
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.
“Was that funny?” she asked.
“No, Aunt Andais, it was most certainly not funny.”
“Fine, let me speak plainly. I gave you the ring on your finger from my own hand.”
I stared at her. Her face seemed innocent of evil intent. She really didn’t seem to know anything about the assassination attempt in the car. “The gift is most appreciated,” I said, but even to me the words sounded less than sincere.
Either she didn’t hear it or she ignored it. “Galen and Barinthus told me the ring lives once more upon your hand. I am more pleased by that than you can know, Meredith.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because if the ring had remained quiet on your hand it would mean you were barren. That the ring lives is a sign that you are fruitful.”
“Why does it react to everyone that I touch?”
“Who else has it reacted to besides Galen and Barinthus?” she asked.
“Doyle, Frost.”
“Not Rhys?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Did you touch the silver to his bare skin?”
I started to say yes, then thought about it. “I don’t think so. I think I touched only his clothing.”
“It must be bare skin,” Andais said. “Even a small piece of cloth may stop it.” She leaned forward, placing her hands on the tabletop, picking up a captured rook, turning it in her gloved hands. If it had been anyone else, I’d have said she was nervous.
“I am going to rescind my geas of celibacy for my Guard.”
“My lady,” I said, voice soft with the breath I’d taken. “That is wonderful news.” I had better adjectives, but I stopped with wonderful. It was never good to appear too pleased in front of the queen. Though in my head, I wondered why she was telling me first.
“The geas will be lifted for you and you alone, Meredith.” She concentrated on the chess piece, not meeting my eyes.
“Excuse me, my lady?” I didn’t even try to keep the shock off my face.
She looked up. “I want our bloodline to continue, Meredith. The ring reacts to the guards that are still able to father children. If the ring remains quiet, then do not bother with them. But if the ring reacts, then you may sleep with them. I want you to pick several of the Guard to sleep with. I don’t really care who, but within three years I want a child from you, a child of the blood.” She set the chess piece down with a thick scraping sound and met my eyes.
I licked my lips and tried to think of a polite way to ask questions. “This is a most generous offer, my queen, but when you say several, what exactly do you mean?”
“I mean that you should pick more than two; three or more at a time.”
I stayed quiet for a few seconds, because again I was left with needing information and not wanting to be rude. “Three at a time in what way, my lady?”
She frowned at me. “Oh, Danu’s titties, just ask your questions, Meredith!”
“Fine,” I said, “when you say three or more at one time, do you mean literally in the bed with me at one time, or just like dating three of them at the same time.”
“Any way you wish to interpret it,” she said. “Take them into your bed one at a time, or all together, as long as you take them.”
“Why must it be three or more at once?”
“Is it such an awful prospect to choose among some of the most beautiful men in the world? To bear a child to one of them and continue our line? How is this so terrible?”
I looked at her, trying to read that beautiful face, and failing. “I approve of letting the men out of their celibacy, but Auntie dearest, do not make me their only avenue. I beg you. They will fall upon each other like starving wolves, not because I am such a prize but because anyone is better than no one.”
“That is why I am insisting that you sleep with more than one at a time. You must sleep with most of them before making your choice. That way they’ll all feel they’ve had a chance. Otherwise, you are right. There will be duels until no one is left standing. Make them work at seducing you instead of killing each other.”
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“I like sex, my queen, and I have no designs upon monogamy, but there are some among your Guard that I can’t even speak a civil word to, and sex is a step up from polite small talk.”
“I will make you my heir,” she said, voice very quiet.
I stared at her so careful, unreadable face. I didn’t trust what I’d heard. “Could you repeat that, please, my queen?”
“I will make you my heir,” she said.
I stared at her. “And what does my cousin Cel think of that?”
“Whichever one of you gives me a child first, that one shall inherit my throne. Does that not sweeten the pot?”
I stood up, too abruptly, and the stool clanged to the floor. I stared at her for a space of heartbeats. I wasn’t sure what to say, because it didn’t seem real. “May I humbly point out, Aunt Andais, that I am mortal and you are not. You will surely outlive me by centuries. Even if I bore a child, I would never see the throne.”
“I will step down,” she said.
Now I knew she was toying with me. It was all some game. It had to be. “You once told my father that being queen was your entire existence. That you loved being queen more than you loved anyone or anything.”
“My, you do have a long memory for eavesdropped conversations.”
“You always spoke freely in front of me, Aunt, as if I were one of your dogs. You nearly drowned me when I was six. Now you’re telling me that you would abdicate the throne for me. What in the land of the blessed could have changed your mind so completely?”
“Do you remember what Essus’s answer to me was that night?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No, my queen.”
“Essus said, ‘Even if Merry never takes the throne she will be more queen than Cel will ever be a king.’”
“You hit him that night,” I said. “I never remembered why.”
Andais nodded. “That was why.”
“So you’re unhappy with your son.”
“That is my business,” she said.
“If I let you elevate me to coheir with Cel, it will become my business.” I had the cuff link in my purse. I thought about showing it to her, but I didn’t. Andais had lived in denial of what Cel was, and what he was capable of, for centuries. You spoke against Cel to the queen at your peril. Besides, the cuff link could belong to one of the guards, though I couldn’t fathom why, without Cel’s urging, any of the guard would want me dead.
“What do you want, Meredith? What do you want that I can give you that would be worth you doing what I ask?”
She was offering me the throne. Barinthus would be so pleased. Was I pleased? “Are you so sure that the court will accept me as queen?”
“I will announce you Princess of Flesh tonight. They will be impressed.”
“If they believe it,” I said.
“They will if I tell them to,” she said.
I looked at her, studied her face. She believed what she said. Andais overestimated herself. But such absolute arrogance was typical of the sidhe.
“Come home, Meredith, you don’t belong out there among the humans.”
“As you reminded me so very often, Aunt, I am part human.”
“Three years ago you were content, happy. You had no plans to leave us.” She settled back in her chair, watching me, letting me stand over her. “I know what Griffin did.”
I met her pale gaze for a heartbeat, but couldn’t sustain the look. It wasn’t pity in her glance. It was the coldness in it, as if she simply wanted to see my reaction, nothing more.
“Do you really think I left the court because of Griffin?” I didn’t try and keep the astonishment out of my voice. She couldn’t honestly believe I’d left the court over a broken heart.
“The last fight the two of you had was very public.”
“I remember the fight, Auntie dearest, but that is not why I left the court. I left because I wasn’t going to survive the next duel.”
She ignored me. In that moment I realized that she would never believe the worst of her son, not unless forced to beyond any shadow of doubt. I couldn’t give her that absolute proof, and without it, I couldn’t tell her my suspicions, not without risking myself.
She kept talking about Griffin as if he were the true reason I’d left. “But it was Griffin who began that fight. He, the one who was demanding to know why he wasn’t in your bed, in your heart, as before. You’d been chasing him around the court for nights, and now he pursued you. How did you effect such a quick change in him?”
“I refused him my bed.” I met her eyes, but there was no amusement in them, just a steady intensity.
“And that was enough to make him pursue you in public like an enraged fishwife?”
“I think he truly believed that I’d forgive him. That I would punish him for a while and then take him back. That last night he finally believed that I meant what I said.”
“What did you say?” she asked.
“That he would never be with me again this side of the grave.”
Andais looked at me very steadily. “Do you still love him?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“But you still have feelings for him.” It was not a question.
I shook my head. “Feelings, yes, but nothing good.”
“If you still want Griffin, you may have him for another year. If at that time you are not with child, I would ask that you choose someone else.”
“I don’t want Griffin, not anymore.”
“I hear a regret in your voice, Meredith. Are you sure that he is not what you want?”
I sighed, and leaned my hands against the tabletop, staring down at them. I felt hunched and tired. I’d tried very hard not to think about Griff and the fact that I’d see him tonight. “If he could feel for me what I felt for him, if he could truly be as in love with me as I was with him, then I would want him, but he can’t. He can’t be other than what he is, and neither can I.” I looked at her across the small table.
“You may include him in the contest to win your heart, or you may exclude him from the running. It is your decision.”
I nodded and stood up straight, no hunching like some kind of wounded rabbit. “Thank you for that, Auntie dearest.”
“Why does that fall from your lips like the vilest of insults.”
“I mean no insult.”
She waved me to silence. “Do not bother, Meredith. There is little affection lost between us. We both know that.” She looked me up and down. “Your clothing is acceptable, though not what I would have chosen.”
I smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. “If I’d known I was going to be named heir tonight, I’d have worn the Tommy Hilfiger original.”
She laughed and stood with a swish of skirts. “You can purchase an entire new wardrobe, if you like. Or you can have the court tailors design one for you.”
“I’m fine as I am,” I said. “But thank you for the offer.”
“You are an independent thing, Meredith. I’ve never liked that about you.”
“I know,” I said.
“If Doyle had told you in the western lands what I planned for you tonight, would you have come willingly, or would you have tried to run?”
I stared at her. “You’re naming me heir. You’re letting me date the Guard. It’s not a fate worse than death, Aunt Andais. Or is there something else you haven’t told me about tonight?”
“Pick up the stool, Meredith. Let’s leave the room neat, shall we?” She glided down the stone steps to walk toward the door in the opposite wall.
I picked up the stool, but didn’t like that she hadn’t answered my question. There was more to come.
I called after her before she got to the small door. “Aunt Andais?”
She turned. “Yes, Niece.” There was a faintly amused, condescending look on her face.
“If the lust charm that you placed in the car had worked and Galen and I had made love, would you have still killed him and me?”
She blinked, the slig
ht smile fading from her face. “Lust charm? What are you talking about?”
I told her.
She shook her head. “It was not my spell.”
I held my hand up so the silver ring glinted. “But the spell used your ring to power itself.”
“I give you my word, Meredith, I did not put a spell of any kind in the coach. I merely left the ring in there for you to find, that was all.”
“Did you leave the ring, or did you give it to someone to put in the coach?” I asked.
She would not meet my eyes. “I put it there.” And I knew she’d lied.
“Does anyone else know that you plan to rescind the order of celibacy where I’m concerned?”
She shook her head, one long black curl sliding over her shoulder. “Eamon knows, but that is all, and he knows how to keep his own counsel.”
I nodded. “Yes, he does.” My aunt and I looked at each other from across the room, and I watched the idea form in her eyes and spill across her face.
“Someone tried to assassinate you,” she said.
I nodded. “If Galen and I had made love and you hadn’t lifted the geas, you could have killed me for it. Galen’s fate seems to be incidental to it all.”
Anger played across her face like candlelight inside glass.
“You know who did it,” I said.
“I do not, but I do know who knew that you were going to be named coheir.”
“Cel,” I said.
“I had to prepare him,” she said.
“Yes,” I said.
“He did not do this,” she said, and for the first time there was something in her voice—the same protest you’ll hear in any mother’s voice when defending her child.
I simply looked at her and kept my face blank. It was the best I could do, because I knew Cel. He would not simply give up his birthright on the whim of his mother, queen or no.
“What did Cel do to anger you?” I asked.
“I tell you, as I told him, I am not angry with him.” But there was too much protest to her voice. For the first time tonight Andais was on the defensive. I liked it.
“Cel didn’t believe that, did he?”
“He knows what my motives are,” she said.
Meredith Gentry 01 - A Kiss of Shadows Page 34
