The prince pursed his lips and nodded. "A good point and well said."
"These contemporaries who share your views were not with you at the pub."
"'Tis true. You caught me sneakin' out on my miscreant night." Elora had to laugh. "Boys from school who can be a little rough after a few pints."
The young prince had an engaging way about him. "It's been very nice to have this talk. I will try to get my husband to reexamine his position on the feud." The prince's lips twitched when she said the word feud. He was thinking that only an outsider could so minimize the past thousand years of elf and fae at war with each other. "And I will also work on my esteemed brother-in-law from the inside."
"Esteemed. A cautious compliment I would say." Torquil's eyes twinkled.
Elora laughed. "You've met him?"
The prince shook his head slightly. "Certainly no'. Let us say I have heard he is no'... a lot of laughs." They both shared a chuckle at the expense of the King of Ireland.
"Perhaps you could begin to ease your own reservations about the status quo into the discussion in your household as well?'
"'Tis a good plan and certainly I enjoy a conspiracy as much as the next prince, but my elders are no' showin' signs of bein' moved either in their political views or away from the throne. 'Twill likely be a long time fore I am king.
"If I may ask, though, what is your mate's position on this question?"
"He's never spelled it out as such, but, the night I first met him, he turned red in the face and turned over a chair at dinner because he thought I was calling him a fairy."
The prince looked serious. "Were you?"
She smiled. "It was an error of innocence. I come from a culture where everyone knows a collection of stories by the name fairytales. Something about that was mentioned."
"I see. And he was much offended."
Elora nodded. "Well, one step at a time then?"
"Always a sound policy."
"Meanwhile, do you think I can trust that my young sister-in-law will be safe in your country? She's the one over there who could almost challenge my husband for good looks."
The prince regarded her with amusement as if to say, "I know that you know and you know that I know. The question is does she know that you know what I know?"
"Fae's gods I pray 'tis so and 'tis no' said casually." He looked past Elora to where Aelsong was talking to guests and stealing glances at him. Sensing that Elora might prove to be a valuable and trusted ally, he leaned a little closer to her. "'Tis most unfortunate that I can no' see to it personally. Tragically so, as a matter of fact. One of the problems with your traditional approach to diplomatic relations is that diplomacy takes a very long time."
"Forgive me for saying that is a youthfully impatient remark, your Highness."
"Oh, aye," he laughed. "And how old be you, Madam?"
She patted her tummy and smiled. "Old enough to be someone's mother. Soon."
"Congratulations to you and the hero of the hour."
"Of the millennium," she corrected.
"So. 'Tis a love match then." He grinned and cast a glance in Aelsong's direction without realizing he had paired the phrase 'love match' with a need to look her way.
At the same time, Elora saw that her conversation with the prince had drawn Ram's attention and that he was regarding her with distinct curiosity. Not wanting to press her luck, she said good night to Duff Torquil who stopped her long enough to shake her hand as he palmed off a card with his personal number on it. "Let us no' lose touch as the Americans say."
Elora walked away wondering where she could put that card. She thought about her bra and then laughed to herself. Had she seriously entertained the idea, even for a millisecond, that her bra might be a safe place to hide something from Ram? She walked straight to Kay and told him she needed him to keep something for her, no questions asked. As she knew he would, he pocketed the card looking straight ahead, no questions asked.
Gods. She loved Bad Company.
EXCERPT III The Witch’s Dream
"Okay. Well, here's the thing then. We haven't had a chance to really get to know each other yet, but I grew up oldest of six. I had five sibs in my own world and two of them were girls. So I have experience being a big sis and I'm comfortable in the role."
"Oh. Aye." Song looked like she wondered where this was going.
"While we're gone for Kay's wedding, you'll be here completely on your own." Song nodded. "Away from home for the first time." She nodded again. "So, on that note, I'm volunteering to put my nose where it wasn't invited and offer advice. It will be best if you take every care to avoid Duffy for now."
Aelsong looked a little baffled, a little surprised, and a lot paler. "Duffy?" she asked cautiously.
"The Prince. You do know his name is Duff and his hooligan friends call him Duffy?"
Song nodded ever so slightly while her expression read shell-shocked. "How did you know?"
Elora pointed at her face with two fingers. "Eyes."
"We were so obvious?"
"Apparently not. Astonishing as it is, I seem to be the only one awake enough to see what is plain as day." Song blew out a breath of relief on learning that her brother was unaware. "I'm going to do everything in my power to help you, but it's going to take some time and a miracle or two."
She was looking at Elora with wide, hopeful eyes that could break Elora's heart. "People around here know how to make miracles. Right?"
Elora cocked her head while she appraised Aelsong. "Can you read for yourself?"
Song shook her head. "That would be handy, but my own future just whirls around like...sort of like smoke. If I try to force it, I see bad things - no' the actual future - things scary enough to make me stop askin'."
"And you can't ask anyone else in this department to read for you because of what they might see."
"Aye. Exactly."
"Well," Elora reached over and patted Song's hand, "when we get back I will start working on your mother and your brother. And your other brother. But it must be gradual. It's a big change we're hoping for. And Duff is going to see how far he can get from his side."
Song's lips parted and she hissed in a little air. "I saw you speak to him."
Elora smiled at her sister-in-law's reaction. "Guess what we talked about. Indirectly, of course."
Song's eyes coated with a dreamy expression. "He was so gorgeous in his kilt, was he no'? It made my heart hurt."
Elora smiled, knowing exactly how it feels to find a male so beautiful you never want to look away. "Indeed. He is a real life Prince Charming."
Song looked confused. "You mean he's a charmin' prince?"
Elora sighed. She might never get used to living in a dimension without fairytales. "Right. Anyway. He says he has nothing personal against elves and thinks that continuing the feud is silly. That was his word. But he also said that, if I quoted him on that, he would be forced to deny it. He thinks there is a growing movement among some of his peers to resolve the dispute and put an end to the animosity."
Aelsong looked even more enraptured. "He said that?"
"Yes. That does not mean it will happen. He indicated that the mission is daunting from his side."
"Aye. 'Tis from mine to be certain."
"So we're agreed? You'll lay low while I'm gone?"
"Lay low?"
"It means be super discreet and prudent."
Song grinned. "I shall lay low like a rug."
Gaia kicked at the door lightly and they heard a muffled, "Hands full. Get the door."
Aelsong opened the door to let her roommate in.
Elora stood and readied herself to leave. "Don't tell your brother I was here."
"Alright then. Why no'?"
"Because, due to a turn of events that couldn't possibly be more ironic, I believe he thinks I'm a bad influence on you."
Song blinked twice before erupting into a toothy laugh that started in her belly and ended deep in her throat. Enough said. Elor
a got a quick hug goodbye and was gone.
EXCERPT IV A Summoner’s Tale
"What do you know about my sister and that prancin' prick of a fairy prince?"
Elora blinked, but in the space of that flutter he learned all he needed to know. He had found out the first time Storm brought her to poker night, back at Jefferson Unit, that her very expressive face telegraphed even the tiniest nuance or feeling or thought. By now he knew her so well that she was as transparent as air.
She was caught off guard because she hadn't expected that question while Ram was cooking a leisurely Sunday breakfast. She recovered and tried to cover.
"Say that three times fast?"
"No' goin' to work this time. Stay on topic."
"You just don't like him because he can stand toe to toe with you and not be cowed by the H.O.H. elfster."
"ELFSTER!? What in Paddy's Name, Elora? And what is H.O.H.?"
"Hall of Heroes."
Ram turned away from frying bacon and gave her a look. It probably didn't have the effect he intended. He was wearing jeans, a long sleeve black tee that stretched across his chest enticingly, and a black Jack Daniels apron tied around his waist. She thought perhaps nothing was sexier than watching Ram's muscles ripple while cooking her breakfast.
"Do no' try to deflect. 'Tis I. And Paddy knows I can tell when you're hidin' somethin'." Ram looked determined.
-------
Glen was giving Blackie a goodbye rough and tumble.
"Not in my living room," Elora said on her way past with her arms full of stuff the baby might need on the plane. She set the load down by the front door, looked around nervously, and pulled Glen aside looking like a woman with conspiracy on her mind. She spoke in a tone that was barely above a whisper. "I need you to do something for me on the down low."
"The down low?"
"Um. Yes. What do they call it here when you're off the record?"
"Off the record."
Elora let out a breath. "Okay. Off the record..."
"Which record are we off?"
"Let's start over. Between you and me..."
"Okay."
"Glen. Shut up." He chuckled. "You're messing with me, aren't you?" He grinned.
"Enough. Limited time here." He nodded.
"I need you to find out everything you can about the elf/fae war."
"Why?"
"Great Paddy, Glen."
"Okay. What exactly are you after?"
"How it started. See if you can find a reliable source - either a primary reference or an authority who knows for sure."
"You got it, boss."
"What has he got?" Ram came in carrying another load of stuff the baby might need on the plane, wearing his damn extra-sensitive elf ears.
"Just getting Glen to keep an eye on my puppies. Like we talked about."
Ram nodded, opened the front door, and started carrying Helm's busload of necessities to the Range Rover.
"Scary," Glen whispered to Elora.
"What?"
"How easily you lied to him and how genuine it sounded."
"Yeah, well, keep that in mind if you ever get married."
"I'm starting to recognize the appeal of bachelorhood."
Elora pinned him with a look. "Seriously, I would never lie to him if it wasn't to protect someone."
"You're protecting somebody?"
"Yes. I'm protecting them. I'm protecting him. And I'm protecting them from him."
"I'll find out what you want to know."
Elora gave him her high beam smile. "You're the best."
"Is payment involved?"
"Yes. Here it is." She kissed him on the cheek just as Ram came back through the front door.
"Catch! Stop cruisin' my wife and help me move the entire inventory of Babes R Us to the armored tank."
EXCERPT V Moonlight
Prince Duff Torquil's family was having a small reception to celebrate his mid-winter graduation from law school from The University of Strathclyde at Glasgow. There was a tradition among the fae monarchy that those who were likely to rule should study history, with an emphasis on Fae history, and go on to law school, the logic being that the law was best administered by those who knew and understood it. The royal family, currently in residence at Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh, considered eight hundred guests a small reception. At that, there were sure to be at least two thousand more who would be in a snit and consider their lack of an invitation a snub.
When Elora received her invitation, she had written to the prince and explained that she and her husband had taken temporary quarters in the States. She added that she hoped it would not be presumptuous of her to ask that her good friend, Istvan Baka, and his bride, both employed by the same organization, take their place. Of course she knew it was presumptuous. After all, she had a background in the gentility of social arts, but she hoped he would grasp the code of her next sentence, which was this:
"You are certain to enjoy Baka's company and that of his new bride, who is popular among the entry level associates where she works. I'm certain you would make a loyal ally for life should you be kind enough to offer an extra invitation for her to bring a friend."
On the off chance that people were smarter than they appeared to be, Duff reread the note twice before tossing it on the glowing embers of the fireplace in his north wing office. He stabbed at the coals with the poker until the paper caught. After watching it burn to ash, he opened the door and stepped out to speak to his secretary. No matter how many times it occurred, the man always appeared startled when the prince leaned out and spoke to him. It seemed the palace staff would never get used to Duff's inappropriately modern and decidedly boorish behavior.
At first it had annoyed Duff that Grieve jumped in his chair whenever Duff opened the door to the outer offices and spoke to him. Grieve had been appointed by his father without giving the prince any say in the matter. Whatsoever. As usual. But eventually he came to terms with the fact that there was an odd little bespectacled man sitting just outside the entrance to his suite of rooms. He managed this internal resolution largely by appreciating the humor of the thing.
Grieve's display of shock had become part of Duff's day to day reality and one that he'd come to look forward to. In fact, he imagined that, should Grieve develop nerves of steel, he, Duff Torquil, Prince of the Scotia Fae and heir to the throne, would be forced to devise ways to deliberately create surprises, simply for the pleasure of seeing Grieve jump, gasp, and clutch his chest.
With that thought, Duff lowered his chin into his chest and chuckled while Grieve got himself together.
"Grieve," Duff repeated.
"Aye, your Highness."
"Please send an additional reception invitation to an Istvan Baka at the Black Swan Charitable Corporation offices, Charlotte Square."
"But, sir, there are no odd invitations left to offer."
"Are you goin'?"
Grieve pushed his glasses higher on his nose. "Oh, aye. My presence is expected."
"Do you want to go?"
Grieve hesitated, mouth open, while trying to decide whether it would be in his interest to speak plainly or not. "I, ah..."
"The truth, man."
"No' particularly."
"There you have it then. Problem solved." Duff ducked his head back into his rooms and began to close the door.
"But, sir, your father..."
The prince opened the door and reappeared, but without his customary affable and approachable expression. He was clearly not pleased and might even have been scowling, although it could be hard to tell on such a beautifully smooth and youthful face.
"Who do you work for, Grieve?"
"You, sir?"
"Is that a question or an answer?"
"An answer, sir?"
"Hmmm. Well. I understand that my father hired you."
"Aye, sir."
"But he is no' in a position to oversee the minutia of my affairs every day. Do you no' agree?"
Gr
ieve nodded. "Aye, sir?"
"Well, then it seems you must make a choice. Is your loyalty to the one who appointed you or to the one whom you serve?"
Grieve paused for only a moment before standing and pulling his shoulders back. "My loyalty is to you, sir. You can rely on me."
Truly, Duff was half joking and had not expected the equivalent of a chivalric vow of service, but seeing that the little man was serious, the prince was touched and decided not to dismiss it as a jest.
"Thank you, Grieve. I will treasure your declaration and count on it, from this day forward."
Looking like he had just experienced the best moment of his life, Grieve smiled like he'd just been knighted.
Duff withdrew and closed the door, but stowed away in his heart the knowledge that allies could be made from something so small as a little respect and recognition.
Baka would have loved to skip the prince's reception, but Elora had asked him to go and take Aelsong. So he was standing in front of the bathroom mirror in a blindingly white pleated shirt, trying to tie his black tie. He was just glad his tux came with pants instead of the kilt that most of the male guests would be wearing beneath their formal jackets.
Fresh from the bath, Heaven came up behind him with a towel wrapped around her. She pressed into his back and rose to her tip toes to peek over his shoulder at his reflection in the mirror.
"Hmmm. Handsome."
Baka gave her his best debonair smile. "Bond. James Bond."
She giggled. "Here." She urged him to turn around so that she could finish the tie. He could have used a clip-on, but the extra trouble paid off. While she was doing that, he casually unfastened her towel and let it drop to the floor. He pulled her closer with one hand while the other found delightfully wicked things to do to occupy itself.
Baka loved the way her chest heaved when she sucked in a surprised breath. "You don't really want this tied, do you, James?" Her voice had taken on a sultry undertone.
A Tale of Two Kingdoms (Knights of Black Swan, Book 6) Page 2
