Page 19

19

INNOCENT LITTLE TRAP

Darina

The court play and drink and dance like no human could ever envision, giving their very soul to the revel. It’s no wonder mortals can’t stop themselves once their join the dances here. They eerie music, too complex and enchanting to comprehend, is only part of the appeal; the folk dance with their very souls.

I’m dying to join in, to shed my clothes and tap my feet at the rhythm of the beat, to sing my heart out, or at the very least, steal one of the violin and join the players. But I’m supposed to be above it all, remote. A pillar between all the chaos of the mingling court.

“It’s unfair I can’t dance,” I pout.

“Well, I don’t see why not,” Loch says. “Show them their queen is fun. So long as you don’t dance with Ryther, it can’t hurt.”

My eyes cut through the crowd, finding his midnight gaze. I can’t help it. And of course, he’s the one I want to dance with. But I let Valdred takes me to the floor and leads me through a waltz, Loch following up with ajive, which doesn’t quite go with the music, but we laugh through it. They have to show me the steps, and my heart’s filled with wonders as I do my best to follow.

Still, I watch him, again and again, and each time I slip, Ryther’s eyes are already set on me.

I can’t deny that the party’s getting to me. Despite everything, the danger, the tragedies, the dances make me feel light as air.

I wish my sister could dance, too, so she could enjoy a moment of peace; but of course, it’s dangerous to her, like everything in this world.

I sip my drink slowly, and watch as they all exchange glass after glass, all well on their way to being plastered.

Then, around midnight, two hours after my arrival, I returned to the dais and clap my hands together once to call the attention back to me. I continue with our plan.

"Lords and ladies, you were kind to dance your feet off in my hall," I say, all smiles and chuckles."And now I invite the rulers of each court to follow me so that we may get to know each other before the end of the conclave."

Look at me, I'm a little tipsy, innocent and ignorant of how these things are done, this is in no way a trap, my demeanor claims loud and clear.

And I'm young enough, foreign enough, for some of them to fall for it, too.

Either way, they're too eager to get me alone and take my measure to think to refuse.

I spot the bright queen, eyes narrowed into slits, though even she seems flushed, with her glass empty.

I’ve won this round.

And if I can keep winning and winning little things, put out one fire at a time, I might even win this battle before it starts.

The council room's not far away, and Loch leads us there in silence. It's prepared with thirteen seats around a long trapezoidal table, plus one larger, higher chair in white with golden carvings on the sides that is most definitely a throne heading the shorter of the four angles. That's the most regal piece of furniture he could find large enough for fourteen; the previous queen's table was rectangular, with the map of Ilvaris carved on top. I've kept it as a sideboard.

I'm surprised to find one of my guests already here. He's tall, tanned, and broader than most folk. His hair's a dark shade too fiery to be called brown. Russet, I think. He has green eyes. But while none of those features are like Ryther, there is no denying that this is his brother. They have the exact same face, sharp jawline, prominent cheekbones; the kind of man who makes every girl in the room stop and stare.

Calreth wears a long dark green leather duster with golden stitching and has a bow strapped to the back of his chair. He seems ready for a fight, and yet utterly relaxed as he leans back and nods. "My queen, I assume. A pleasure. You favor your mother."

Startled, I blink. No one told me that before. "I do?"

"Almost as much as I favor my brother. You could have been twins," he assures me, offering me a hand as I approach.

When I take it, he turns my palm, so as to look at the mark running through it.

"The mating bond is a blessing. One I envy you for," he tells me on a wistful sight.

Then he brings his mouth to the back of my palm.

"You're a charmer," I accuse with a chuckle.

He's also perhaps the first of the folk that put me so utterly at ease. Even Loch, I thought to fear for a moment or two. Calreth could be a threat—everything about him says as much. But he chooses not to be.

"Sit close to me," I invite, relieved by his presence.

We weren't sure he'd make it. Calreth's hunt doesn't take part in the conclave, uninterested in the rites, or anything to do with the general ruling of Ilvaris. It just exists to hunt, constantly fighting the greater threats around our world. He's only here as a favor to his brother, to help with a show of strength on our part.

I cannot have Ryther close to me. Loch was supposed to be at my right and Valdred to my left; instead, I sit Calreth in Valdred's space, trusting he wouldn't take it for a slight. As another more or less neutral party, like Loch, he makes more sense.

Valdred's next to Loch. He doesn't seem to mind.

Ryther sits opposite me, right in the middle of the longest side of the table. One glance across, and I can see how unwise that is. We were trying for distance, but the way he occupies the space, he seems to be a second head to the table.

I make myself detach my gaze from his, and try not to blush.

"Sit, sit," I tell everyone, once my circle's at their respective places. "Wherever you find room. This is to be informal, just a get together so we might understand each other better, yes? We'll see to formal seating arrangements later."

In short, I'll reserve judgement on who gets closer to me after I've heard them.

"Hopefully you'll pardon my lack of decorum; I don’t have much experience in your world. So, let’s get to know each other. I'll introduce myself, speak of my goals here, and you'll all do the same. Ryther darling, would you very much mind serving us wine? I didn't call any servants."

Silly me, how stupid I was.

Of course, I purposely failed to ask any servant here, and it is by design that the first words I exchange with Ryther are an order—one for what the lords would see as a demeaning task, at that.

I try not to grimace. By my side, Calreth smirks, thoroughly enjoying himself.

Ryther does as he’s bid, serving me first, and Loch takes a sip of my glass before nodding.

The bright queen laughs dryly. "What, you think the unseelie king would poison his queen?"

She is as obliging as predicted for pointing it out.

"We can never be too careful. There could be poison directly in any of the cups," Loch replies. "Or Ryther may not like being bound to someone who wears the trousers in the dynamic."

That does bring a few chuckles around the room, and Rena sneers, clearly annoyed that her own words have furthered my point.

I wait until all cups are full before starting. "Well, I am—or was—Darina Thorn, up until last week, when I was taken from the ironside and brought here as a slave. Since then, I've learned I'm Darina Harthorn—the name ought to be easy to get used to. Daughter of your late high queen. Over the last week, I've been chased, and shot, and raped, not to mention, watched my parents being murdered. Why, one of you already dispatched servants to kidnap my adopted sister, no doubt to similar ends." I smile, leaning in. "I sit before you now because I wish for these things to stop, and evidently, the best way to do that is to claim my birthright. I understand it comes with duties, most of which have been highlighted by my advisors. I called you all here to clarify your expectations in these changing times."

In short, I'm calling them out on their shit, refusing to brush it under the rug, and taking for granted that I will rule—that I understand what ruling means.

It's their turn, but I have made several moves by the time they get to advance their first pawn on the board.

Loch comes next. "I am Loch, of the untamed lands. The shy folk there have only ever wished to be left alone and rule themselves. They are under my dominion only by these terms: I leave everyone alone, so long as no one breaks the laws of the high court. When they do, I am the one left with the pleasant task of rendering judgment." Done with the generalities, he smirks, and adds: "The high queen has named me her first advisor, due to my decision to recognize her claim and come to her aid, rather than whatever you lot were up to these past days."

I don't miss the uncomfortable glances, some shifting on their seats, other glowering.

They didn't believe I'd survive to put them in this position.

Valdred speaks, somewhat in the same vein, concluding by stating he's glad to leave the general ruling of Ilvaris where it belongs, as no one from a small court ought to make the decisions for all others.

The sea duchessRebalga,Relva's mother, speaks after that. She's as salty as the sea she hails from, but remains mostly polite. "We were just fine without a high queen," she snarls between her teeth. "But if there is to be one, we'll be fine with it, so long as she rules fairly."

That seems to be the general sentiment amongst the unseelie, shared byFoxwell of the court of blood andLoken of the court of night. Junis is nowhere to be seen.

The seelie overall are more cautious, if not antagonistic.

Tenith of the court of stone says, "We're a smaller court, all things considered, but almost every keep, every bridge, every road on your Hollow was built by us. We've made most of your castles, high up in your mountains, wings, and low down in your seas. For all that, no one thinks of us when you make decisions. My loyalty to the high crown has long been determined: any lord needs to swear it to take power. But if this seat at this table is more than a prop, then you'll also have my respect. Time will tell."

Gold and silver are strange courts, as they mostly harbor mortals; yet they're powerful, outnumbering the rest of their respective islands put together, and rich. Both of their leaders seem calculating, a man and a woman, older in looks and more dignified than the rest of us.

"I can't deny I am interested to see what a queen raised on the ironside could bring to Ilvaris," the man from silver says.

He has salt-and-pepper hair cut short, and the great frame of someone used to physical labor. His name is Tristan, which is somewhat more normal to me than most of the others around the table.

"This world, for all its beauty and wealth, is constant. Stuck in time. Why, most of those now seated around us have been alive for three hundred years, and in those years nothing has changed, while on Earth, they say things change from one year to the next. I am hopeful we might enter a more modern time. Civilized."

That is a dangerous idea, because he's right: most of those people have been alive forever. And they fear the idea of change.

"And one would think a woman of Earth would value mortal lives more than some folk," Helena, the woman from the court of gold adds.

She's the head of their merchant's guild, and that makes her their leader, though they don't use titles like ladies over there.

"Especially one with a mortal for a sister."

Again, she's correct: I do, and I fully intend to review some of the laws here, such as the one that led to my enslavement.

The thing is, I can't do all that if I'm dead. And announcing I want to do all that will get me killed.

I only smile, glad I made this an introduction, which doesn't require my commenting one way or another.

The duchess of the court of wings, still bearing scars from her fight with Ryther, when she tried to get to me, only snarls and clips out the words, "I am Serila, blood of Sibil, the first wings queen. I do not believe that after a thousand years of absence, the line of Morrigan ought to stroll back into our lives and claim to take over. If you dare order us about, like you have the right to our servitude, I will?—"

I don't let her finish. "Get up."

She does so, and from the way her eyes widen, seems shocked to find herself on her feet.

"Given your feeble attempt at a threat, you're no longer welcome here after today. You may send a representative in your stead for the time being, but understand that should your court of wings fail in its duties to the high crown, I will disband it."

Her mouth opens.

"Silence. You may leave."

This is two leaders I've taken on. From one, I took his crown, the other, her seat. I have two new enemies, which brings the total count to three—four, if one counts Rena, though I don't believe she's a serious one yet.

Three and a half, then. It's not too bad, out of thirteen.

"Understand," I say into the silence, "that I am endeavoring to remain as impartial as I should. I know the power I've inherited. I am aware of what it could do to all of you."

I let the words hang for a moment as I look at each of them.

"But you did chase me for three days. Most of you would bury a dagger in my back given half a chance. These are facts I have not forgotten. When you break our very simple laws, I will bestow punishments fit for the crime. Threatening the high queen is treason, punishable by death. The only reason the duchess walks is because I stopped her from finishing her sentence. And I did that because I am fair. I realize this is difficult for all of us." I smile. "I'm also not stupid. Don't try me."

There's silence. Smiles. Glares.

"The first to have disrespected me lost his crown. The court of bone has passed fromValmort to his son, Valdred. And speaking of. I note Lord Junis didn't see fit to come," I add conversationally.

"He hasn't been seen today, my queen," Loch announces.

"You can't expect him to show himself for his beheading," Rena remarks. "Or are you saying you intend to be fair to him? He broke no law in taking you after a bargain you didn't understand."

Four. I definitely have four enemies.

I speak slowly. "I’m not here to cry that he was mean to me. Junis stands accused of taking mortals without bargains nor right and torturing them for sport. I can't very well start my rule by allowing this from a lord . The fact they were my parents is immaterial."

No one can argue.

"Should he not present himself to be judged for the offense, according to our laws I shall pass a sentence in his absence. If you're friends, you may let him know."

Rena snarls. "Friends? Certainly not. But you cannot say you think that your judgement is fair, my lady. Taking two mortals isn't a crime punishable by death."

"I never said I'd kill him," I reply."Does it give me a sense of satisfaction that he’s proved himself quite the coward? Certainly. But this is not personal. I sought advice to understand my role here, as I said. The lords govern their courts and I govern the lords. When they misstep, I intervene. And he misstepped by making a game of torturing mortals from another world. Several laws are against that.It is my duty—and in this case, my pleasure, certainly—to see that the lords follow the charters upon which this great civilization was built."

Ryther and Loch gave me two courses of action; one in case he showed, the other, in the more likely event he didn't. I'm pleased to say we're going with option two. I'm certainly not fond of the idea of deafening myself with a spell until they've taken his tongue out.

"In the place of the coward," I say, rather than naming him, "someone should stand here for the winter court. It is unseemly to invite the thirteen courts and have one missing."

That someone came to mind rather easily.

"As we can all agree her banishment wasn't recorded or approved by the high court, I call Cissvana, the legitimate heir of the house. Should neither show themselves on our next meeting, another lord will be appointed to oversee winter. Perhaps the house of night should absorb it the way day took summer."

"Can she do that?" I hearRebalga whisper to Rena.

Rena doesn't bother to lower her voice. "Junis failed to come. She has them by the throat. Now when Cissa comes, though they despise her, it’ll be as the savior of winter. And she’ll have stripped Junis of his title on a technicality. He didn’t have much else," the bright queen adds with a sneer. "You do know how to play, my queen. Or how to listen."

She means it as an insult, and a reminder that for all my talk of fairness and impartiality, I am still firmly bound to the unseelie courts.

I smile. "Let's go with both. I'm glad we got to know each other. Now, let us rest or make merry. As we're all already gathered here, I invite you to remain until the morrow, when I will take my mother's crown."

And though some seem to see they've been played, the lords and ladies nod.

I survived my first night facing the thirteen courts, and when I declared that tomorrow, Iwill officially be their queen, none thought to deny or delay it, though tradition dictates it should take weeks, months before an heir is crowned.

I call that winning.