Page 56

Rhoswyn

Five hundred and thirty-four years later…

“Ma! Ma, look!” Cadogan calls, the sounds of metal striking metal filling the courtyard as Jaro humours our youngest son with a sparring match.

“Be careful with your father,” I call back, snuggling deeper into Caed’s arms. “He’s not as fast as you.”

“Hey,” Jaro objects playfully as his shield comes up, blocking an attack.

“Don’t worry! I won’t hurt him!” Caddie’s blue-tinted skin shines with sweat, his wings fluttering in and out of view as he loses control of his glamour while his focus is elsewhere.

Neither of them will take it easy on the other.

On our son’s left arm, a brand new silver band gleams against the pale blue of his skin. It’s his first, and he won’t remove it for anything. Neither he, Lore, nor Caed will tell me how he ‘earned’ it, but I have my suspicions. It appeared a day after the sudden, ‘unexplained’ death of the king of spring last week, a mere half a year after he got rather loudly drunk at my winter solstice ball and made a poor attempt at seducing me.

I don’t believe in coincidences anymore, and the fact that my unseelie Guard will redirect any question I ask about the incident is an answer in itself. I thought Lore was happy enough that he’d castrated Aiyana’s idiot son at the time, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

Spring is braced for another war of succession between his illegitimate children and their aunt. Just thinking about it is making me tired, not that it takes much to do that these days.

My eyes flutter closed, basking in the warm summer breeze as the sounds of their sparring washes over me. My fourth-born is only twelve summers old, and yet, there’s no doubt that he’s Caed’s child. Ever since he was able to hold a sword, he’s been running around challenging knights to duels and demanding lessons from anyone who will humour him. Even Neila, who gave up her weapons ages ago to serve as ambassador to the water fae in my court, has been lured in by his infectious enthusiasm. A few days ago, I caught her correcting his form with a spear.

“He’s getting better,” Caed murmurs, his voice reverberating against me, and I feel him reach out for his magic.

I know without looking that he’s summoned one of his ghost blades to ambush Cadogan from behind. Just like I know our son will lean into his gift to predict it.

“Goddess damnit!” he cries, and a clatter of metal on stone flagstones tells me Jaro used the distraction to knock the blunted sword from his hand.

“Language!” my wolf cautions, and I stifle a laugh.

Honestly, if he didn’t learn with Ruaridh and the twins that trying to instil manners into a child influenced by Lore’s parenting antics is a waste of time, he never will. If anything, we’re lucky it isn’t worse.

“Taliesin’s written,” Bree says quietly, landing beside me in a burst of ink and feathers. “He and Tadhg somehow wound up in a strange library by mistake, but they’re on their way. His new portal came out in Fellgotha.”

“Fellgotha?” I frown. “I thought he was supposed to be coming straight home?”

Bree’s ears twitch in humour. “I’m sure they’ll explain when they get here. Expect Prae, her mates, and Bramwyn to turn up with them. They’re bringing gifts, apparently.”

A smile graces my lips at the thought of Prae’s precocious little daughter, and I wonder if the twins volunteered to bring her, or if the young Fomorian princess demanded it.

“A gift?” Cadogan’s head pricks up, all thoughts of whatever lecture Jaro is attempting to give him forgotten. “Did they say what it was?”

Our son levels his best innocent look at his púca father, but it doesn’t work.

“Even if he did,” Bree replies smoothly, “if you don’t tidy your room before they get here, it won’t matter. Drystan will call off the party, and there won’t be any presents.”

Cadogan’s face goes slack with panic. “I forgot!” he says. “I’m going, I promise!”

He takes off across the palace courtyard at a full sprint.

Funnily enough, using Drystan as a threat worked when the twins were younger, too. It took them years to work out that, of the six of us, he’s secretly the biggest pushover. At least Caddie’s room will remain clean for a little while longer before he makes the same discovery.

If only it had worked on our eldest. Life would’ve been a lot calmer.

“You shouldn’t be so mean,” I tell Bree as Jaro collects the abandoned wooden swords and leans them against the wall to my right. “Did Tali say much else?”

My twins couldn’t be much more different. One púca and one dullahan. One bright and charismatic, and the other stoic and serious. Yet their bond is a fierce, quiet thing that reminds me of their fathers’. It’s a good thing, too, because without Tadhg’s grounded good sense, Taliesen would’ve accidentally portalled himself into some horrible fate decades ago.

“He was vague as ever.” Bree pulls a letter from his pocket, handing it to me.

My eyes scan the neat lines of text, smiling at the description of Tadhg’s grumpiness and the predictable lack of solid plans. Tali is many things, but organised isn’t one of them.

“Probably because he got caught up in something incredibly embarrassing and Tadhg had to rescue him again,” Lore pipes up, and I crane my neck to find him sitting on the roof above us, enjoying the late summer sun.

That quickly, he’s beside me, pressing a deep kiss to my lips.

“How’s the ballroom looking?” I ask as soon as he pulls away. “Did you get everything done?”

“Caddie wanted real warrior decorations,” Lore grins. “So I filled the space with every single pointy object in the armoury.”

That… wasn’t what I had in mind. I sigh and smile. After five hundred years and four warrior sons, even Drystan has given up truly trying to scold Lore for his enthusiasm.

Maybe I’ll keep my news to myself a little longer… My grumpy guard will undoubtedly disapprove of me entering the ballroom of spikey things if he learns what Kitarni confirmed this morning, and I don’t want to ruin Cadogan’s big day. My hand flutters to my abdomen protectively, and my púca’s eyes latch onto the motion, both of his ears swivelling to focus exclusively on me.

“And the food?” I ask, trying to distract him.

It probably won’t work. Last time this happened, Bree could hear the heartbeat a month or so in, and it’s been six weeks since my last fever. Really, I should’ve insisted my mates take a contraception potion. In my defence, I never expected to conceive again so soon after Caddie.

Danu loves surprises.

“Aerla’s got it,” Jaro says, oblivious. “If nothing else, our son’s guests will enjoy the cake as they’re being torn to shreds by the decor.”

“Just keep Bramwyn away from the ballroom,” Caed mutters, still lounging on the cushions on the ground. “If I hear one more complaint from my cousin that her child has smuggled more inferior fairy weapons under the mountain, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

“Bold of you to assume that she’s the one smuggling them,” Lore grins, stealing another kiss.

“Lorcan,” Jaro growls. “We talked about age-appropriate gifting…”

“Oh, keep your tail on, wolfie. It’s a couple of daggers, not a greatsword. Besides, she’s half-Fomorian. They cut their teeth on flails and maces, right?”

“She’s four,” Jaro retorts.

“She has a pet drake!”

“Only because her gift is animal-speak!”

“Would anyone care to tell me,” Drystan begins, striding into the courtyard with a limp, “why the front gate is fucking booby trapped?”

I frown, sending as much magic his way as he needs until his stride evens out and the pained creases leave the corners of his mouth.

Lore’s grin blooms wider and wider by the second. “Roo’s home!”

“Took you long enough to notice.” My eldest peels from the shadows, his face hidden by the deep red hood as he heads straight for me, dropping to one knee. “Ma.”

Smiling, I push away from Caed, dragging my firstborn son up and tugging him into a hug. “I’m so glad you made it back. When did you arrive?”

“A kelpie brought me as far as Orvendel yesterday morning.” He shrugs, and his usual deep hood shrinks into a more relaxed cap that exposes his bright red eyes and scarred cheek.

I stroke the starburst of warped skin in fond sadness. He won’t let me heal it, no matter how many times I ask. It started out as childish stubbornness, but now he keeps it to make a point.

“Caddie will be so happy to see you. The twins are coming back, too.”

I don’t know where my eldest goes. I have the wisdom not to ask. With Ruaridh, the most I can do is pray nightly to the Goddess for his safe return.

“ I’m happy to see him,” Lore protests, grabbing him and driving a knife straight into his gut.

Roo dodges swiftly, using a move I’ve seen executed a thousand times before, and yet never fails to make my breath catch.

The two of them fall to the stone, wrestling with the blade, as my dullahan strides closer, a fireball filling his palms. “I will burn both of your caps if you don’t explain to me why I just had my leg mauled by one of your infernal traps!”

Roo looks up, offering a slightly manic, fanged grin that belies all four hundred of his years. “Can’t let the Guard get complacent.”

Jaro sucks in a breath, shaking his head as he offers both redcaps a hand up. “Lad, you’ve got a death wish.”

Lore ignores the offered hand and blinks so he’s behind me, arms wrapped around my waist. “Can I take Roo and Wraith fishing?”

Hearing his name, the pile of fur that is the elderly barghest lifts his head, cloudy eyes sparking with interest before it becomes clear no one has food, and he drops back into sleep with three heavy thumps of his tail against the wall.

“Fishing? Since when do you fish?” Bree’s tattoos swirl with confusion as he finally drags his gaze from my abdomen.

“Since I decided the moat could do with a little more ecological diversity.” Lore nods sagely. “If we fish long enough, we might get lucky and find ourselves a sea monster to bring home.”

“I am not complacent,” Drystan snarls, extinguishing his fireball as he reaches us and cuffing our eldest over the head. “And we do not need a sea monster in Elfhame. It wouldn’t live long even if you managed to catch it, because the moat is full of fresh water.”

“Come on,” I say, sensing another brawl brewing. “There’s still lots to be done before Caddie’s party, and the servants don’t have time to scrub blood out of the stones on top of everything else.”

No doubt they’ll trade blows later, but if they have any sense, they’ll wait until I’ve retired for the night.

When it comes to keeping the peace between my family, I play nice most of the time. But they’re all aware that if they push me, I’ll summon every spirit in the palace to pin them down until they can each come up with three kind things to say about each other.

Once they’re blue in the face from having to be nice, I’ll take pity on them and let them go.

Extreme? Yes. But the last few centuries of motherhood have taught me that being outnumbered by fae males sometimes requires radical methods. And it’ll only get worse when our fifth son graces the world.

A soft, secret smile graces my lips as I lean back into my redcap. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

THE END

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