"You do look lovely in the coat. It becomes you."
"Yes," Mistral said. "I do not mean to ignore your beauty, Princess. Forgive me." He actually went down on one knee as I'd seen the guards do for Queen Andais when they feared that they'd displeased her.
"Get up," I said, "and never do that again."
He looked puzzled, but he stood, though the uncertainty on his face was almost painful. "I upset you. I am sorry."
"It was the dropping to the ground like you would for the queen," Doyle said.
I nodded. "I've had to do my own groveling on the floor all my life. I don't want to see it in my kings, or the fathers of my children. You can apologize, Mistral, but never drop to the ground as if you are afraid of what I will do. That is not my way."
He looked at Doyle, who gave one nod. Mistral came to stand by us. He smiled a little uncertainly at me. "It may take me a little while to understand this new way of doing things, but I am eager to learn things that keep me off my knees."
I had to smile at that. "Oh, I don't know. I like a man on his knees if it's for a good cause."
Mistral frowned.
Doyle explained. "She means that if you are giving her pleasure, you can kneel to reach."
Mistral actually blushed, something I had never seen him do before. He looked away, but answered, "I would be happy to do that again with you, Princess."
"Meredith, Mistral. My name is Meredith, or even Merry, when we are alone."
The door opened with no knock, and I knew by that that it would be Sholto. He came in, his face very obviously not happy.
"What has happened?" Doyle asked.
"Your mother has sent a message. She demands proof that you are well, or the Seelie are prepared to do more than just camp outside the sluagh's mound."
"Are they truly willing to attack you?" I asked.
"Whether they would do it, I cannot say, but that they threaten it is true enough."
"Do they not understand what they risk?" Doyle asked.
"I think they see no humans to tattle on them, and we have all made small battles one against the other where the humans have not seen them. We do not bear tales to the humans."
"Taranis changed that when he went to the human authorities and accused my men of rape."
"That was... odd," Sholto said.
"And if we can get to the human authorities, we will return the favor, but with a true crime," I said, and even to me I sounded grim.
Doyle hugged me, and I slid my arms around the warm bareness of him.
"We can speak on the court mirror to your mother." Sholto got a strange look on his face.
"What is it?" Mistral asked.
"I just realized that this will be the first time I've spoken to my mother-in-law."
Doyle startled in my arms. "I have thought of Besaba as an enemy for so long, but you are right. She is Meredith's mother."
"No, she only gave birth to me," I said. "You have seen the death of the only woman who earned the right to be called my mother. Gran raised me with my father. My mother wants me now only because she thinks it may make her the mother of the queen of the Seelie. Before Taranis began to show interest in me, she cared nothing for me."
"She is your mother," Sholto said.
I shook my head, still wrapped in Doyle's arms. "I believe that you must earn that title. It's another by-product of being raised among the humans. I don't believe that just giving birth earns you anything."
"The Christians believe that you must honor your father and mother," Doyle said.
"True, but ask most Americans and they'll tell you you have to earn that respect."
"Do you wish to ignore Besaba's request then?" Sholto asked.
"No. She's pretending to be the aggrieved party. We must show her that there's no reason to be aggrieved." I gazed up at Doyle. "Would it be good or bad to have Doyle and Mistral at my side? Would you prefer that it be just you and me, Sholto?"
"I think a show of force is called for," he said. He looked at the other two men. "If you have no objection, I think Meredith and myself in front as king and queen with you at our sides, and some of my other guards behind us. Let us remind them what they would fight."
That seemed to meet with everyone's approval. Sholto said, smiling, "I think I have some clothes that will fit you both, though Mistral's a little bigger through the shoulders. Maybe an open jacket with no shirt, a very barbarian king."
"I will wear what you like," Mistral said. "I appreciate you letting us stay at Meredith's side in this moment."
"Those of the Seelie who are not afraid of the sluagh will fear the Queen's Darkness and Mistral, Lord of Storms."
"It is long since I have had the power to do what my name says."
"You hold the spear that once belonged to the Thunderer. Taranis's mark of power is in your hands, Storm Lord."
"I think," Doyle said, "that that is information best not shared with the Seelie. They are already here for the chalice. If Taranis knew that one of his objects of power had chosen another hand to guide it... " Doyle shook his head and put his hands out, as if grasping for a word.
I finished the thought for him. "Taranis would go apeshit."
"Apeshit?" Doyle made it a question, then nodded. "I was going to say that he would kill us all, but yes, that term will do."
Chapter Twenty-Four
Doyle and Mistral fit nicely in Sholto's clothes, but then except for Rhys and myself, all the sidhe I knew were around six feet tall. The men were all broad of shoulder, narrow of waist, and well built. The guards were muscled and hardened from weapons practice or actual battle. But Sholto was right about Mistral's shoulders. They were just a touch broader than either his, or Doyle's. Not by much, but it was enough that the shirts didn't fit, straining so badly that they didn't look right. Better to wear less clothing and look good than to wear more and look bad. We were about to deal with the Seelie Court, and they were all about appearances. If it looked good, itwasgood. So dysfunctional a family, that.
Mirabella, the court seamstress, walked around Mistral tugging at the coat she'd found for those broad shoulders. She pulled one side with a pale, slender hand, then smoothed a fold in the rich blue cloth with her black-and-white tentacle.
Her right arm was the tentacle of a nightflyer. She seemed perfectly human, except for that bit of extra. The tentacle was very dexterous, as I knew the nightflyers could be. She used both limbs without thought. It was the effortlessness of years of having both. Was she part nightflyer? The child of some attack, or even a willing roll in the hay? I wanted to ask, but it would have been rude.
Mistral looked amazing in the coat.