by Mary Dublin
"Canterbury Watch," Esmae cut in. She blushed red as a radish, realizing she had interrupted the king. She finished more meekly. "It's… it's far too northerly."
The king merely nodded, giving her a gentle smile. "Right you are."
As his father turned away, Esmae shot a thrilled look up at Daniel. He rubbed her back, returning the look in full. She had been a quick study to the private lessons he gave her, and looked for any opportunity to show off her newfound knowledge of the human kingdoms. Given time, Daniel knew, she would be able to handle any manner of inquiry without his help.
"Once thing you cannot see from this spot, however, is the celebration being held in your honor." The king paced away from the rail to give Daniel a pointed look. He was relieved to see the twinkle still in his father's eyes, a smile pulling up the lines on his face. "Never leave long enough that your absence is noticed, Daniel."
"We'll return at once," he said, offering his arm to Esmae.
Satisfied, the king gathered his cloaks and started down the hallway. At the base of the stairs, servants appeared to help him down the long passage. His legs were not what they used to be.
Daniel followed that same way, Esmae's arm linked into his. By the time they reached the feast, his father was already seated at the high table, overlooking the festivities. The music was lively, a quartet of strings and fiddles intermingling with a harpist's melody. Those closest to the couple stopped what they were doing to give a deep curtsy or bow. Wine kept a smile on everyone's faces.
Esmae nodded graciously to everyone they passed. Before long, the two of them were right at the edge of the dancing crowd. Daniel felt a tug at his arm, as if the music was pulling at Esmae.
"Your Highness." Edmund came to Daniel's side. He glanced at Esmae and inclined his head with a polite "my lady" before focusing back on the prince. "There are a few quick matters of the night we must discuss."
Noticing the desirous look on Esmae's face as she glanced between him and the dance, Daniel unwound his arm from hers.
"Go on ahead," he told her. "I'll join you soon."
Esmae hesitated, but one more look at the small crowd won her over. "I'll be waiting," she said, moving away from him.
Edmund spoke, but Daniel couldn't focus long enough to catch more than a word or two at a time—it could wait. She was dancing. The light fabric of her dress flowed and twirled around her, like petals gliding on a breeze. She moved from person to person, sometimes dancing, sometimes pausing to speak. The breathless smile never left her face all the while.
Movement winked overhead. If Daniel hadn't been so used to catching such small occurrences, he wouldn't have noticed it in the slightest. Trying not to alert Edmund, Daniel hid a smile as he glanced upward, eyes fixing ever so briefly on a tiny figure perched on one of the chandeliers directly above the dance floor.
The fairy king had made good on his promise about watching. Daniel swore he caught glimpses of different fairies almost every other day.
A giggle floated from the dance floor. Esmae was stooped down in front of a young girl—a daughter of one of the servants. Delicately, Esmae pulled one of the violets from her bouquet and offered it. The girl accepted it with a delighted grin, admiring the flower for only a moment before throwing her arms around Esmae.
Judging by his sudden silence, Edmund finally seemed to have given up holding his attention to matters of politics. With a sigh of hidden impatience, he followed Daniel's gaze to the dance floor.
"A peasant girl," he murmured. "I'll admit, I never imagined her to fit here so well."
"The people love her," Daniel said simply.
Edmund hummed. There was no denying it. Even the nobles who tried to look down their nose at her were won over.
A servant in the blue and silver of the castle staff approached. With a respectful nod, he offered a tray of honey wines in a silver goblets. Daniel plucked one off in passing and drank deeply, hardly taking his eyes off the cluster of flowery skirts that clung to Esmae's hips. Edmund was more selective before choosing his glass and sending the young man off.
The advisor sipped at the contents before clearing his throat. "If you don't mind me saying, Your Highness… She could make a good queen one day."
Daniel's smile widened as Esmae turned, and he caught her eye from across the room. She beckoned to him, inviting him to join her in the dance.
"Yes," he answered softly, passing his wine goblet into Edmund's hands. "I daresay she will."
Thieving Glory
PART TWO
Chapter
One
Daniel tapped the edge of his quill against the parchment, as if the proper words might spill across the page. Penning trade agreements with the greater lords in Mirrel was far from the most glamorous part of being a prince. He'd been staring at the document for so long, his own handwriting was blurring into unrecognizable shapes and swirls.
With a sigh, he set the pen back into the ink bottle and massaged the bridge of his nose. He could barely stomach the thought that he had two more letters of good faith to write out when this was through.
"Daniel."
The prince raised his head with a startled frown, eyes darting about for the sudden voice. The door to his study was shut tight, and few servants had access to the corridor. The intruder made himself known quickly enough: a glimmer darted through the open window and made a smooth arc towards his desk. It had been a short time after welcoming Esmae into his home that Daniel had become familiar with the quick, graceful movements of approaching fairies. This fairy in particular was quicker than most, he knew. That crop of dark, messy hair was unmissable.
"Bit early in the day for you, isn't it?" Daniel asked, leaning forward.
Brennan gave his wings one more flit, as if to shake off the dust from them. He shifted foot to foot on a sealed tub of ink, giving the desk a quick look left and right.
"It's not by choice," Brennan grumbled, sounding tired. "I'm looking for one of Esmae's guardians. He should have returned hours ago from his shift, and no one's heard from him."
Daniel held back a cringe. "I'm afraid that's my doing."
He turned in his seat, allowing Brennan a view of the crackling hearth. A small table was set not far from its warmth, with a small offering of minced peaches and custard cream arranged on a saucer. The offering had not gone amiss—a strapping fairy dressed in a belted leather tunic and triple-stitched trousers lay comatose across the saucer, his cheeks sticky with peach juice and his belly round and full.
Brennan took one look and palmed his face. "I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose," he accused, peeking over at Daniel with narrowed eyes.
He fought a smile. "I just lay out the refreshments. I don't make them do anything."
"Right, you only encourage them," Brennan said dryly. "King Maison might be less than pleased if he finds out why the number of volunteers to watch over Esmae continues to increase."
Facing forward, Daniel shrugged and propped his chin on his hand. "I suppose I have nothing to worry about, since no one's told on me yet."
"I might," Brennan groused, rubbing his eyes. "If it means I won't be shaken awake every other morning to hunt down straggling guardians. It's a lengthy flight, you know."
A chuckle escaped Daniel despite his best efforts. "Take a rest, then. Esmae should be along within the hour. She'll be happy to see you. The past few days for her have involved meticulous planning to host a dinner for a visiting lord and his family. My father has hosted them before, and they can be quite… finicky. Esmae is ready to tear her hair out."
Brennan let out a snort of laughter. He lowered himself to sit on the ink tub with his legs hanging over the side. His feet barely rested on the tabletop.
"Sounds like her. She used to love garden parties in Evrosea, until she was expected to have a hand in the planning." Frowning curiously at the parchment lying between him and Daniel, Brennan cocked his head to read it upside down. "I would apologize for interrupting, but it l
ooks to me like the ink has been dry for some time. What are you working on?"
Daniel's smile dropped at the edges. Not even Brennan could distract him from the task at hand.
"It's an accord of sorts between the crown and more powerful families in the kingdom," he explained. "Each year, we settle on how much grain and livestock those families provide Mirrel, in exchange for protection and coin from us."
Brennan nodded. "Sounds simple enough."
"Not this time. There are some who've taken my father's illness as a sign of weakness in our reign. They… don't trust me to fill his place." Daniel rubbed the back of his neck, feeling an inexplicable shame flood his face with color.
He half-expected Brennan to be amused by his chagrin, but the fairy wore a thoughtful look. "So they're uncertain about change. I suppose they can't be faulted for that. It's normal. I may not know much about humans, but I do know that people are afraid of being cheated out of certain expectations that they are already comfortable with."
"You've dealt in these matters before?" Daniel asked, raising his eyebrows.
"I've lived in a castle as long as you have." Brennan smiled dryly. "My own duties go beyond escorting half-asleep guardians home. I pick things up here and there. As you're painfully aware of, my mother is one of the king's topmost advisors."
Trying not to trouble his mind with the disastrous first meeting with Brennan's mother, Daniel glanced between Brennan and the parchment and fiddled with the quill. He supposed he needed all the help he could afford at that point. "What would you suggest, then?"
"You need to be assertive without making it obvious that you're trying to be," Brennan answered, looking pleased to have been asked. "Leave room for compromise to show you're willing to negotiate with this agreement and others to come, but don't suggest that you'll roll over for anything, either."
Daniel had to stare for a moment. Brennan had been a friend and confidant for several months now, but he'd never struck him as the political type. "That's not bad, actually…"
Leaning forward, Daniel plucked up the quill and set it to paper again. He heard Brennan take wing after a moment, circling over to follow along over his shoulder. When he scrawled his signature at the bottom, he sat back and glanced carefully to the side.
"How's that?"
He held particularly still as Brennan landed on his shoulder, frowning down at the page. "It's good," he admitted. "But you can do better. That Anglian family is cheating you with those prices."
"I can't offer much less. If they pull their support, people in the small villages could go hungry," Daniel said.
"Give them a firm offer, and they'll respect you for it," Brennan insisted, giving his neck a pat.
Daniel hesitated, scanning over the page once more. "I could try," he conceded, setting it aside for a fresh sheet. He sighed out sharply, feeling Brennan waver to regain his balance. "The Anglians have been especially skeptical. They've demanded that I deliver their pact in person."
"Demanded?" Brennan echoed, a frown in his voice. "It sounds a bit extreme to demand anything of the crown."
"I don't have much of a choice," Daniel said, his quill scratching along the parchment.
"Meet them if you must, but it sounds like you need to be even more unyielding to let them know they're not going to walk all over you."
Daniel gave a slight nod and lapsed into silence that was broken only on occasion to seek Brennan's advice on the best wording. Once the revisions were complete, he seemed more or less satisfied with the agreement.
"You still sound a little too… nice. But it should do."
"It's a trade agreement, not a declaration of war," Daniel snorted. "But you do have a talent for this, Brennan." He sat back in his seat and turned his head just enough to glimpse Brennan in his peripherals without knocking him over. "Do you have a title in Evrosea?"
The pause Brennan gave was pronounced. It was then that Daniel truly took into account how little he knew about Brennan's past despite considering him a friend. He and Esmae had remained close since childhood, that much Daniel knew. Beyond that, it was as if Brennan existed only in the present.
"I don't have a title, exactly. I suppose I could be considered an advisor of sorts, especially in matters regarding you and Mirrel." Brennan shifted on Daniel's shoulder, as if he was growing uncomfortable. "You could say I was being groomed to be one of Esmae's advisors, whether she was married off or inherited the Mirrel throne, but…"
"She left," Daniel finished with a sharp sigh.
Brennan was quiet, then announced, "I'm nodding, just so you know." Daniel felt a light sensation of pressure on his shoulder before Brennan pushed off and took to the air, hovering over the table. "Not that I should complain," he said, gesturing down at the parchment with a smirk. "Seems I'm affecting the economy of a human kingdom. Not many fairies can boast that."
Daniel gave him a warm smile. "You're welcome to stay on. I enjoy the company with these wretched things."
He carefully folded the finished document into thirds, and sealed with the crest of Mirrel on a bed of gold wax.
"I might have to, if you're going to let those lords trouble you like that," Brennan said, arching a brow smugly. "Hopefully the weather decides to be as compliant with providing crops. Really, I don't know how you humans manage to get by letting weather happen on its own."
"We don't have much of a choice, do we?" Daniel chuckled, recalling the magically regulated weather within Evrosea's bounds. Brennan's comment was offhand, but the prince felt a sudden pang of wistfulness for the wingless fairy he'd discovered under his dining table. The tiny girl who could only pretend she truly knew of human affairs was long gone now, but the memory of her still made him smile.
Brennan found a new place to perch while Daniel's hands were busy over the papers, leaning up against the spine of a book on shelf that housed spare quills. He rolled his shoulders with a sigh, rubbing the base of his wings as one would massage a muscle.
"Are you tired?" Daniel asked as he reached for a clean sheet of parchment. "I can get you something to drink."
Brennan snorted, looking pointedly at the fairy guardsman still snoring by the peaches. "From you? Why don't you save yourself the trouble and just tuck me in for a nap?"
"I thought you prided yourself on having stronger willpower than the others," Daniel quipped. "Surely one drink won't knock you off your feet. Or wings. Whatever you're using at the time."
"The willpower comes from not accepting food or drink in the first place," Brennan said flatly.
Daniel laughed, dividing his attention between the shelf and the words on the fresh parchment. "Shouldn't it be the other way around? More than one legend says humans shouldn't accept food or drink from the fae."
"That depends on what sort of fae you're dealing with. But whether the consequences are real or not, it doesn't hurt to promote the idea as far as I'm concerned. Otherwise we might have humans eating us out of house and home."
"Right. The two humans who visit Evrosea." Daniel smirked and shook his head.
"Which reminds me," Brennan said, straightening. "The king would like me to remind you and Esmae that the summer's end meeting is fast approaching. Hopefully things will go a little… smoother this time."
It was hard not to wince. There had been two council meetings since Esmae was adopted into the Mirrel castle. She and Daniel did not attend the winter's end gathering, since a majority of it revolved around discussing the matter of allowing humans to enter Evrosea. The council had relented in the end, and Daniel and Esmae had been invited to the spring's end gathering. It hadn't been a total disaster, but there were clearly those on the council who were not pleased with the newly-formed ties with a human kingdom.
"Like you said, change isn't easy on everyone," Daniel answered. "I don't suppose things have settled down a bit? It's been months."
"Yes and no," Brennan said with a shrug. "As you know, the prime trouble has been finding a new heir to inherit Evrosea. There's sti
ll a bit of disagreement amongst the people, but it's widely accepted that Maison's younger brother, Rommen, will take the crown after his passing."
A slight frown furrowed on Daniel's face as he tried to put a face to the name. He came up short.
"Have I met him before?"
"No, I can't expect you have. The boy's barely older than I am, and doesn't often involve himself in politics. It will be a miracle if we can get him to attend summer's end." Brennan pulled a face. "He's still a bit… unused to your attendance."
"He's nervous," Daniel said sympathetically.
"Scared shitless, more like," Brennan chortled. "But he'll come around. Aeron Bogdan is his closest friend, and he can't stop singing Mirrel's praises."
Eyebrows hiked high, Daniel scrawled his name at the bottom of the second page. "Maybe I should ask him to speak to Lord Anglian for me," he joked.
"You'll be fine." Brennan waved a hand dismissively. "You're not going alone, are you?"
"Esmae is accompanying me. It wouldn't hurt to have the Anglians meet their future queen as well." He smiled absently for a moment, waiting for the ink to dry on the page. With any luck, if he couldn't charm Lord Anglian, Esmae could. "She'll get a break from event-planning for a day, at least. You're welcome to join us too, if you like."
There was a heavy pause in which Brennan gave the room a glance as if Daniel could be speaking to someone else. "Me?"
"If you don't mind having to hide, that is."
Brennan snorted. "I do that here, don't I?"
"You have a point," Daniel said, folding up the parchment.
His hands froze, however, when the door of the study strained against the lock. In a flash, Brennan was hidden behind a book on the shelf. Though he knew no one could barge in, Daniel tensed and glanced at the sleeping fairy on the table, mind racing to move him somewhere out of view. That was, until the visitor's voice came through the door.
"Daniel!"
"Esmae," Daniel and Brennan sighed together.
Hearing her distress, Daniel hastened across the room and unlocked the door. Esmae stood there in a turquoise gown, panting. Her dark eyes were wet with tears.
