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DON’T GET MAD, GET EVEN

K ing Aristaeus and I enjoyed our purloined cake in relative silence, both of us keeping only a loose grip on our secrets. I was constantly tempted to show him the key and ask him what he knew of Demius, but each time I thought I might succumb, I had cake in my mouth. And by the time I’d swallowed, my resolve was back in place.

He, too, seemed on the verge of some disclosure, but then he would smile and take another mouthful.

At the bark of distant laughter, I quickly took the partially eaten delicacy to the kitchen, then returned to the old king just long enough to smile and press a kiss to his forehead. It was less about affection and more about appreciation for the burdens he carried.

With a nod as farewell, I scurried to the staircase before anyone saw me.

* * *

The next morning, I woke to the sound of someone in the outer rooms. “Tearloch?”

A hand pushed the curtain aside and a servant gave a cheery wave. “I’ve just brought your morning meal. Would you like it on the bed, or on the table?”

“On the table,” I said, and decided not to ask how she’d gotten through a locked door. Obviously, she had a key.

“Big day today,” she sang. “They’ve announced that the celebration for the prophetess will commence this afternoon!”

“Do you happen to know if Tearloch has returned?”

“Oh, yes. Returned in the night. Royal family kept him up ‘til the wee hours.” She poked her head around the curtain. “Must have slept in his own bed. I reckon he didn’t want to wake you.” Then she took her knowing smile and was gone.

It was reasonable. He was probably worn out and wanted to sleep before I needled him with questions. If he was up so late, I might not see him for hours.

Completely reasonable.

When another woman came an hour later to collect my tray, I arranged for a bath. I was floating in a sea of bubbles when a small person marched into my bedchamber. Thankfully, it was only Minkin. It was rare that she wasn’t cheerful.

“What’s wrong?”

“Men.” She began to pace along the side of my tub.

Relieved, I laughed. “Men are wrong?”

“In general, yes. More specifically, Sweetie.”

Lennon came through the curtain. “What has he done?”

“It’s what was done too him that’s the problem. I’m wondering where I might find someone who can give him back his horns.”

I gasped. “What? Why?”

“Because he’s back to being a handsome devil, so I no longer have him all to myself.”

Lennon flung herself on the bed. “All right. Start from the beginning.”

Minkin threw her hands out, then let them fall to her sides. “We found Moire’s daughter. One look at Sweetie and she was happy to come along.”

“Moire’s daughter,” Lennon’s eyes lit up. “Her name wouldn’t happen to be Thessa?”

Minkin spun around. “No. Rowena. Why? What is it you know?”

“I know that on Earth, Thessa’s father, Ghloir, gave her his powers over Fertility. But you don’t have to worry about that. I think Rowena was given Life and Death. But those powers were taken away again. Still, don’t piss her off.”

I pressed. “What else do you know about Rowena?” Other than the fact that Tearloch stayed up all night with her and her family.

“Well, a creature called Ambition truly fell in love with her…after trying and failing to woo her six older sisters. That’s about all. Has she had an effect on Sweeite?”

“No,” the woman grumbled, “but he’s had an effect on her.”

Lennon laughed. “Well, then, you have nothing to worry about.”

Minkin finally flopped into a chair by the wall. “Thank you. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

They both looked at me and frowned. “What’s your problem?”

“I need to know just what kind of powers Moire might have…”

Lennon shook her head. “Only her visions of the future. And no, she won’t have any effect on Tearloch. He knows her too well. And if she’s paying him a little more attention, it’s probably because she’s trying to make her husband jealous. He doesn’t want anything to do with her, did I tell you that?”

“No. You’ve told us nothing. And I’ve been wandering around the palace alone for days having to eavesdrop on servants to hear any news at all.”

Lennon rolled her eyes. “Then did you know that the celebration-slash-revelation will happen today?”

I gestured to my bathwater in answer.

“Oh, right.”

“You’re not wearing these to the ceremony!” Minkin held up the pair of deep russet trousers.

“I am.”

“But…if you want to compete with Moire for Tearloch’s attention, don’t you want to look…as pretty as possible?”

“Do I?” I gave them both a sly smile. “Or do I want to prove I’m not jealous in the least?”

They both looked closer at the trousers. Then Minkin nodded. “Tearloch won’t care what you wear. And that alone will give her something to envy.”

* * *

I was still in the bath when Tearloch rushed in. He took one look at my friends and stopped to take a breath. His hair was mussed and one side of his shirt hung loose. He must have slept in them.

He pasted a smile on his face, stepped up to the tub, and bent to kiss me. It was much too brief. He glanced at my friends again, and they started to stand. “No,” he said. “Stay. Keep her company. I have to…I have to go help with this afternoon’s preparations.” He backed toward the curtain with an apology in his eyes. “You and I can catch up after.” Then he paused, one foot out the door. “Rowena is a…she’s a handful. But she’s now got her sights on Bain. Just so…just so you ladies know.”

The outer door closed soundly, and I realized I couldn’t get my eyebrows to come down. It seemed Minkin and Lennon were having the same problem.

Lennon shook her head. “You see? Nothing to worry about. Stick to the plan.”

Minkin agreed. “Stick to the trousers. Or go naked. That will keep his attention.”

Once again, I gestured to my bathwater and its fast-dwindling bubbles. “I think naked has already failed.”