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I’ll say this. If my daughter was going to marry fae, she certainly married well.

Diarmuid’s family was not just Irish fae royalty.

They were tiptop of the mighty and unpredictable fae.

They were the most powerful. The most beautiful.

The most envied. The most copied. On one hand, I was thrilled my granddaughter was to be one of them.

On the other hand, I was worried about her being one of them.

I supposed, after a little more than a year, a part of me had concluded that humanity was better despite our faults.

Evie had dropped by for tea and poppyseed muffins. Before becoming fae, she’d liked poppyseed muffins, but they hadn’t made her tipsy. Now, poppyseed muffins meant buzz breakfast.

I asked if poppyseeds might be a problem with fae pregnancy, but my answer was a non-conclusive giggle. While sitting in my somewhat less-than-royal kitchen, she reminded me that Keir and I were expected at the monthly parents’ dinner. As if I could forget.

The young couple had decided the best way to share news with two sets of parents was all at once, so no one could feel slighted.

It was seamlessly logical except that feeling “slighted” was inevitable.

Maeve always made everything about herself.

I kept my resentment to myself. Admirably so.

No point in burdening the parents-to-be with my shortcomings.

I thought Evie seemed anxious. This is worth mentioning because she’s not the anxious sort.

I would’ve liked to ask if it was about the dinner or the impending birth.

(Impending as in any minute now.) But I didn’t ask.

One thing I knew about my daughter, when she was ready to share, she’d share.

Poking around or pressing for information before she was ready to talk would get me nowhere but stonewalled.

So, while I lovingly tiptoed around the nerves in the room, she happened to mention that Niall had completed his year and a day sentence as ward of Queen Enya’s brothers.

Aforesaid “sentence” was, of course, the punishment I’d handed down after Niall’s sinister involvement in the Kelpie incident.

Needless to say, his behavior had left me with the impression that he was probably an incurable psycho. Black sheep personified.

I didn’t think any sentence could be much help for the criminally insane, whether human or fae, but his year in Scotia was the best I could do.

In some ways, it was brilliant. First, because Enya might be compared to Maeve’s lieutenant among the mean queens.

Second, because if there was hope of reorganizing Niall’s cruel impulses, Enya’s wild brothers might accomplish the fae version of “making a man of him”.

The royal brethren were reputed to be wild and rowdy, but unusual in the world of fae because of also being principled, at least by comparison to other fae.

They were known for adherence to a code that recognizes the value of loyalty, promises, and sacrifice in the sense of prioritizing the health of clan over self-interest. It was the perfect situation for a wayward boy who was fatherless at the time. Sort of a Big Brothers situation.

Niall had grown up without his dad. Not because his father had deliberately abandoned the family, but rather because Connor had been trapped in an ice cave for decades. Diarmuid had done his best, but boys don’t respect older brothers in the same way they respect dads.

It might’ve been a story with a happy ending, but my layman’s opinion was that Niall was sinister to the depths of his soul. He was twisted in a way that didn’t happen by circumstance, but rather by genetic calamity. In other words, he was born that way.

Sadly, what he’d learned during his confinement in the highlands of Scotia was not character, but how to give the superficial appearance of conforming to cultural expectations.

If, for instance, he disrespected one of Enya’s brothers, he’d find himself roughly tossed through the door and out into the yard.

He’d then been told to live with the animals until he could manage better behavior.

If he tried running away, he’d find himself tied and dragged back, literally, to the yard where he’d live with the animals until his wardens decided to give him another chance at being housebroken.

Niall was determined enough to repeat the experience of being forcibly returned several times. Learning respect was an even harder lesson.

The brothers eventually began to enjoy the boy’s tests of their determination.

And strength of will. If that’s the game the lad wanted, he’d been sentenced to the right place.

Niall might’ve been impressively stubborn, in ways that appeared outright stupid, but Enya’s male siblings were more stubborn and certain they could be more patient since they were the ones on the side of the door with feast, drink, fluffy beds, and roaring fires.

When Niall attempted escape, the brothers didn’t try to hide the pleasure they experienced in the process of running him down and dragging him back. Once he caught on that his escape attempts were bringing joy to his jailers, he stopped running.

The potential for the young Irish prince to be wicked was exacerbated by the fact that he was born to a family of worthwhile men who projected their internal codes of conduct onto others.

In other words, when Diarmuid and Connor looked upon Niall, they saw what they wanted to see.

The disruption and destruction he’d caused growing up were attributed to excess energy and enthusiasm.

When he returned from Scotia, he had the same young adult appearance.

Like everyone in his family, he was beautiful on the outside.

What none but seers could know for sure was that Niall was teeming with rot and ugliness on the inside.

The kind that couldn’t be cured with any measure of patience or any kind of therapy.

The prince wasn’t learning how to be a better representative of the royal family.

What he was learning was how to hide well what others needn’t know.

It was Maeve’s turn to host the parents’ dinner. I didn’t mention Connor’s name as co-host because it was clear he didn’t care about such things as personal recognition.

During the first and second courses, Maeve talked about the creation of the nursery she’d added next to her bedroom so that Rhiannon would be close when Maeve was babysitting.

I assumed, by her use of pronouns, that she and Connor didn’t share a bedroom.

I wish I hadn’t heard that because it was so none of my business.

You wouldn’t think it would take two courses to share a simple thing, but Maeve was capable of spending an hour talking about what animals to depict, what colors to use, what textures, what toys, etc. , etc., etc.

The men would have sobbed from boredom if it wouldn’t seem so unmanly.

As for me, the gauntlet had been thrown to the ground and given a stomp for good measure.

I gave Keir a surreptitious look and knew, when he rolled his eyes, that he got my meaning. It was on! I’d be creating a nursery even more fabulous next to our bedroom. When I say “I”, it means Evie will work her magic in service of Team Hayworth.

“How coincidental!” I blurted out. “Swans were my thought as well. And sea green. I’d already asked Evie to look at my plans.

” Evie gave me a wide-eyed reaction, but I knew she would wait to call out my fib until we were alone.

Keir gave the masculine version of the same reaction.

I guess he’d never heard me outright lie before and was probably shocked to learn that I’m good at it.

He must have thought I felt threatened because, when there was a flurry of activity between courses, he leaned over and whispered, “You know, Rhiannon is going to think she’s the luckiest princess ever.

She has one grandmother who’s a fae queen.

But the other grandmother is magistrate.

And, who’s more powerful? If push comes to shove in court, you can tell the other grandmother to shove it, and she has no choice but to comply. ”

Suddenly, my body no longer had room to contain the swelling of my heart for the love of my life, or the swelling of my head, or the giggle that erupted involuntarily.

Everyone at the table, except Keir, turned toward me.

“Excuse me,” I said, like I’d burped, before I sat back, knowing I looked smug and not caring.

As soon as everyone resumed pretending to care what Maeve was saying again, I whispered close to Keir’s perfectly formed ear.

“Of course, you’re right. Maeve feels like she has to overperform because she’s threatened by my power.

” I chuckled so softly that no one else could hear.

Of course, the remark was intended as sarcasm.

But once the words left my lips on breath I hoped was fully minted, I knew it wasn’t a joke. It was the truth!

OMG. I was the most powerful person in the magic world! Why had I not realized that sooner? That saying about absolute power corrupting absolutely came to mind. Was I at risk of being corrupted absolutely? Or even partially?

Keir was right. Rhiannon’s grandmothers were the two most powerful figures in the fae world. Wow. Keir pretended to be laser-focused on something on his plate so that his smile wouldn’t raise suspicion.

Our little Rhiannon would be blessed with an overabundance of grandmum role models.

One of us was hoping she’d love dragons.

The other of us was hoping she’d love clothes.

Since Maeve had no daughters, she was excited by the prospect of mentoring a future queen of Irish fae.

Although she hadn’t yet fully confronted the prospect of attention being trained on someone other than herself.

When Connor was able to get an occasional word in, I found him much like Diarmuid, just as Evie always said. Affable, entertaining, and selfless. Certainly, selflessness would be key for someone intending to stay married to Maeve.

Of all her many aggravating traits, some of which made my teeth grind loud enough to be heard, the one I’d never forgive her for was ignoring my husband. She acted like he was invisible and had been doing so ever since our marriage.

If it bothered him, he didn’t let on. And I didn’t ask.

The last thing Maeve shared, just as dessert arrived, was the pièce de résistance. She’d been saving it like a big reveal. Relishing the announcement was woven into both her speech and smile.

“I’ve just returned from a trip to see a dealer of rare goods in Gramoric-Schtihl,” she said.

“He’s agreed to hold a newly unearthed dragon egg for me.

It’s presumed to be the last of its kind.

” Her light laughter was full of artifice.

“But of course, that’s what they always say when another dragon egg is found.

This one is a gorgeous teal blue. What’s inside is probably a Barveshi.

I hope it’s the same color as its shell.

They’re smaller than most, but have long, lethal-looking teeth and horrific claws at the end of their wings. ”

My self-satisfaction didn’t last long. My blood pressure skyrocketed at the thought of my granddaughter having a pet with lethal-looking teeth and horrific claws.

My eyes shot to the expecting mom to see if she was having the same reaction, but she and Diarmuid had their heads together in some private tête-à-tête.

Maeve was rambling about how the exorbitant price, paid in full at the time of reservation, was not dependent on hatching. There was no guarantee of a dragon. If none hatched, the egg would become a beautiful object d’art. A conversation starter. A museum exhibit or what have you.

That might seem nonsensical to the non-fae, but to Maeve, it was worth almost any price.

“Naturally, he’d be fair knowing that, if he insisted on too much, he’d simply cease to be.

And I’d take the egg anyway.” Her laughter was a little more pronounced in defiance of the fact that she might’ve shocked at least two of her guests – Evie and me.

Connor cleared his throat. “Maeve,” he said in a warning tone.

“Oh, pshhhhh,” she told him.

I wasn’t entirely sure about the meaning of “pshhhhh”, but I got the gist.

For what it was worth, and clearly that wasn’t much, I’d been up front from the beginning that I did not approve of dragons as pets for a baby. But vocalizing resistance to Maeve had made me a match for my mate. We were a pair of ghosts in chairs.

The topic hadn’t been discussed between Evie and me. Why borrow trouble? After all, there was no guarantee the dragon peril would come to pass. Was I going to be one of those hovering grandmothers offering advice whether requested or not? NO! With this one exception.

Glancing again at the elaborate nursery mural plans affixed to the wall, I couldn’t help but ask why the focal point was a life-sized sephalian.

“You know, Maeve,” I said, “I can’t help but wonder why you chose to depict a sephalian rather than a dragon.”

“Because no creature can compete with a sephalian when it comes to security,” she replied, managing to compliment herself indirectly.

“I see. Then why isn’t Rhiannon getting a sephalian instead of a dragon?”

I heard Keir’s small gasp and only then realized what I’d said. I’d just suggested that Maeve create a magnificent sephalian for the purpose of functioning as a child’s pet. Or nanny! Oh geez. I wished I could go back three minutes and stuff a sock in my mouth.

Maeve smiled like she was about to deliver a bombshell.

“The creation of a court enforcer was a commission job. And I’m committed, contractually, not to create a fourth.

Obviously, the controllers want the enforcer to be more powerful than any other creature who might end up in your courtroom, Magistrate.

Still, I like the image and the idea that the consummate protector is watching over our little princess. ”