, the day had come for Rowan to travel to Niall’s domain. Fenella led her to the meeting place, which proved to be a freestanding stone trellis in the middle of a picturesque garden. Morning glories twined up the archway, iridescent butterflies resting among the fragrant petals. It was a beautiful place, but Prince Niall was nowhere to be seen. “I hope we aren’t dreadfully early. Goodness knows, I can hardly make heads or tails of your people’s clocks.”
Fenella shook her head. “I don’t see what’s so confusing about them. But we’re right on time. Just watch the gateway.”
“Gateway?” she muttered, looking around in confusion, and then she saw, in the space inside the stone arch, a glimmer. Extending her senses, she could feel, in the ever-present haze of magic around her, a concentration of power. It spun out gossamer strands, like a spider web building itself, and pulled power inward like a magnet.
Rowan watched in awe as a shimmering web of light filled the entire archway, and then, with a flash, a figure appeared, striding into the garden from nowhere as if they were simply walking from one room to another.
“Prince Niall?!” Rowan exclaimed, too astounded to remember her manners. His answering grin was not a little smug.
“If I’d known you would be this excited to see me, Lady Rowan, I might have come earlier,” he said, approaching the two women with a sure step and an eager grin.
Rowan didn’t want him to get the wrong idea, but she didn’t want to offend him either. “I’ve never seen magic like that before. I was certainly not expecting you to walk out of thin air.”
Niall raised his eyebrows. “I suppose the magic in the mortal realm is a bit too weak to sustain a gate, but we frequently use them for transportation.” Rowan nodded. In asking Fenella how magic worked in the Otherworld, she had learned that though the kind of magic she practiced would work just fine, she would be capable of so much more here, simply due to the greater amount of magic available.
She had tried out a few things, but she hadn’t been brave enough to attempt anything truly challenging. Lord Kennet would probably be put out if she set fire to his palace, after all.
“If you’re interested in portal magic, there’s probably books in my library. I’m not much of a student, but you’re welcome to read what I have,” Niall said easily.
Nothing piqued Rowan’s interest quite like the mention of a library full of books she’d never read. “Oh, how wonderful. Thank you very much, Prince Niall.”
“It’s no trouble.” He smiled and extended his hand to her. “Are you ready to depart then, my lady?”
She took a deep breath and took his hand. “Yes, I am.” Turning, she waved goodbye to Fenella, who gave her a polite wave, but looked as anxious as Rowan felt. Though her handmaiden had assured her that it was normal for servants not to attend their masters when they travelled, Rowan did not enjoy the idea of leaving her only friend behind.
Still, she was resolved to put on a brave face and learn as much about Niall as she could. He seemed like someone she would be able to get along with, and if that held true, perhaps her bargain with Lord Kennet would not be as much of a nightmare as she’d imagined.
They approached the shimmering wall of light, and Niall squeezed her fingers tightly. “Do not let go of my hand. I was told that this can be disorienting for mortals.” With that last warning, they stepped through the gate.
**********************
Disorienting, Rowan later decided, would not even begin to describe it. She was falling through light and shadow, exploding into color, and dissolving into nothing all at once. Everything she was and ever would be was pulled out in a line that stretched to infinity, and then she collapsed back onto herself just as she landed hard on gleaming white stone. It took an effort not to hurl up her breakfast. She forced herself to breathe, slow and deep.
In through the nose, out through the mouth, she heard her father’s voice say in her head, a memory from a time they’d taken a boat across the Channel and she’d been woefully seasick. Minutes passed, and finally, she felt like she could stand without the world spinning around her.
But before she did, a hand clapped her on the back, almost knocking her on her face. “You’ve got a strong constitution for a little mortal girl,” Prince Niall said with undisguised glee. “I think you’re going to fit right in here.”
Not quite trusting herself to speak, Rowan pushed herself up to sitting and gasped as she viewed her surroundings. In a book, once, she had read a description of a painting of paradise on the ceiling of a cathedral in Italy. At the time, she had been entranced by it, but the scenery around her made that memory feel dull in comparison.
It was a castle in the clouds, a castle of clouds, walls, towers and fantastical spires twisting into the sky, looking as if they might be blown away in a stiff breeze. The white walls were so bright against the cerulean sky that when the sunlight struck them, her eyes were dazzled almost to blindness.
Prince Niall looked at her expectantly. “What do you think of my home?”
“It's amazing,” she said, too overwhelmed to bother with eloquence. “You created all this with your magic?”
He shrugged. “Most of it is maintained with my power, but a lot of the trickier spell work is done by my retainers. All my idea, though,” he added, grinning. “That's why they call me the Prince of the Clouds.”
Rowan was enthralled. She wanted to examine everything, to touch it and see if it was truly made of cloud or if it was some sort of clever illusion. But Niall gripped her elbow, tugging her down the marble walkway. “Let me show you to your rooms. I had them created especially for you.”
When they arrived at the lavishly decorated suite, it occurred to Rowan that he had not been exaggerating. These elegant rooms, decorated in a feminine, if slightly old-fashioned, style, had likely not existed before her arrival.
They had been fashioned from the fabric of reality the same way a child might play with blocks. With enough magic, she supposed one could create anything. It was a notion that made her uncomfortable; it felt like cheating.
She was eager to visit the library that Niall had promised her, but from the moment she arrived in his domain, she found herself in the centre of a whirlwind of activity. The prince led her on a tour of his lands; it was not only the castle in the clouds, though that was the most important part. There were forests of ice crystal, fields of translucent rainbow flowers, even some sort of giant arena that Niall didn’t think she’d be particularly interested in. By the time they sat down for their evening meal, Rowan was exhausted.
Luckily, for the first few courses, she was not required to make conversation because Prince Niall was busy receiving reports from various members of his court. There was no one else seated at the high table, but Rowan was surprised to notice that even the people at the lower table were a bit more subdued than those at Lord Kennet’s court.
It was a little odd, considering the exuberance of their lord, but perhaps it was her presence. Was it possible that the fae were more frightened of her than she was of them? She wished Fenella was with her so she could inquire about it.
“Lady Rowan.” Niall’s voice jolted her back to the present. “I was wondering if you would like to accompany me on a hunt tomorrow.”
“A hunt sounds interesting,” she replied cautiously. “What are you hunting? I haven’t seen any animals here, but I suppose you must have them.” She had once seen the Royal hunt pass by, as a girl. There was something thrilling about the sound of the horn and the baying of the running hounds as they rushed by, but she had never liked the thought of what happened at the end.
Still, she knew, even with her limited experience, that the way to truly get to know a man was to observe him around other men. Likely, even a man of the fae would be the same.
The Prince smiled in an easy, self-assured way. “Actually, it’s really more like pest-control than an actual hunt, but I don’t mind eking a bit of enjoyment out of an onerous duty.”
She couldn’t help but wonder what kind of pests bothered those who could make whatever they wanted on a moment’s notice. Curiosity, in this case, was much more powerful than squeamishness. “I’d be delighted to accompany you.”
*
The next morning dawned bright and early, much too early, in Rowan’s opinion, despite the fact that she was not normally a late sleeper. A parade of silent servants brought her breakfast and clothes to change into. Their reticence made her miss cheerful Fenella even more, but the one bright point in the day was that fae riding clothes were much more reasonable than their evening gowns.
There were fitted breeches made of buttery soft leather, high laced boots, a silk tunic dyed, somehow, the exact shade of gray as her eyes, and a tooled leather jerkin to go on top.
Very sensible, if a bit more mannish than it would have been prudent to dress in London society. Despite not being accustomed to wearing breeches, Rowan found the ensemble comfortable, and it helped ease some of her worries about the coming hunt.
However, as she was led to the stables, another concern came to mind. She could ride; her father had made sure of that. But she had only ridden horses, gentle mares around a paddock. Who knew what kind of strange creatures the Aos Si might employ for mounts?
Anxiety consumed her as she imagined herself riding on a small dragon or gryphon, but it wasn’t as if she could turn and run. Instead, she fretted all the way up to the door of the stables, and then her fears dissolved as she gasped in wonder.
Pure white horses with a single slender horn gracing their foreheads stood in a calm line, already fitted with dainty saddles and bridles. “Unicorns,” Rowan breathed, her feet moving her forward without her conscious will.
“Not true unicorns,” Prince Niall’s voice rang out from the other side of the room. “Just horses, modified with magic. The real things are far too wilful for riding, and besides all that, out of everyone here, I think they’d only take to you, Lady Rowan.”
It took a moment for his comment to make sense, but she felt her cheeks heating as soon as she understood the implication. “That’s hardly a proper topic for casual conversation, my Lord.”
“My apologies,” he said, but the spark of humour in his eyes told her he wasn’t particularly sincere. “I forget that the mortals of your time are bizarrely reticent about certain subjects.” He moved toward her and pointed to one of the smaller horses. “This is yours. Do you need assistance mounting?”
“No, thank you,” she replied archly, before putting her foot in the stirrup and pulling herself astride the horse. “I have ridden before. Do you know her name?” she asked, petting the creature’s neck.
The mare was so well-behaved that Rowan could have imagined her to be a statue except that she could feel a strong heartbeat under her fingers. Perhaps that was part of the magic, but it felt strange, like the spirit of the horse had been sucked out.
“Ah, no,” Niall said, somewhat awkwardly. “In truth, I’m not sure that any of the horses have them. I see that you’re a bit sentimental, so you may give her a name, if you wish.”
Names have always been quite serious things to magicians, and so Rowan felt unprepared for this sudden duty, but she also couldn’t bear to leave the beautiful creature without any sort of moniker.
She pursed her lips, and at that moment, someone opened the stable door and a ray of sunlight struck the mare’s silver mane. It sparkled like starlight falling to earth, and perhaps feeling her own yearning for guidance of some sort, Rowan spoke the first word that came to mind. “Polaris. That shall be her name.”
“How lovely,” Prince Niall said, but she thought his smile seemed somewhat brittle. “It looks like they’re ready for us. As long as you stick close by the other riders, you should be fine.” She nodded, gripping the reins perhaps a bit more tightly than was necessary in her nervousness as the prince moved to mount his horse at the head of the column.
When he was ready, he raised a hand, and someone blew a short blast on a horn. All of the riders moved forward as one, moving from a walk to a trot as they exited the stable.
Rowan blinked while her eyes adjusted to the stark whiteness before her, and then looked around. She was a bit annoyed to find herself in the middle of the group of riders, far out of convenient conversation distance with the prince, but she supposed that was for safety reasons rather than avoidance. Though Niall had called their quarry ‘pests,’ that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous, and furthermore, there might be other, larger creatures prowling.
The riders fanned out as they entered the forest of crystalline trees. It was eerie how silent it was. No birds chirping, no leaves rustling. The sound of a voice next to her startled her so much she almost fell off her horse. “So, you’re the human girl everyone has been talking about.”
The speaker was a female Aos Si who might have stepped straight from a fanciful storybook. Her hair was as silver as the horses’ manes, except at the ends, which shone with every hue of the rainbow. She appeared at once as delicate and fragile as a spider web and as strong and dangerous as a spear made of diamond, but the expression on her face was one of benevolent curiosity. “Ah, yes. I’m her. I mean, my name is Rowan Ravencroft. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise,” the fae said, bobbing her head. “I am called Gwenael. My mate is the Master of the hunt for the Prince.”
Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing to have ended up so far from the front. “Do you know Prince Niall well?”
Gwenael raised her eyebrows. “As well as a subject can know their lord, I suppose. You’re wondering how much his public persona reflects who he really is?”
Rowan nodded. “I don’t feel I have the luxury of time to truly get to know the princes, but if I have to…fulfil my contract with one of them, I’d like to make an informed choice.”
“I don’t blame you,” the fae replied, deftly guiding her horse around a fallen tree. “My impression of Niall is that he is honest. He is not the most charming or intelligent among us, but he does not hide who he is. It’s an unusual quality for any of our people to be so straightforward, and among the nobility, even more so.
Whether or not that’s a good thing is something you’d have to decide for yourself.”
A frank and surprisingly neutral opinion, Rowan thought. It tallied well with her own experience of Niall, and was, therefore, somewhat reassuring, but at the same time, she felt there was something that Gwenael wasn’t saying. “Then, what is your opinion of Prince Aidan, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Rowan’s companion pursed her lips, as if deciding what to say. “I’ve never met him in person. He hardly ever comes here. There have always been dark rumors about him.”
“What do you mean?” Fenella had mentioned that his mother was from the Court of Bones; maybe that’s all that it was.
“All sorts of terrible things. Child sacrifice, blood drinking, week-long orgies. The sort of things you mortals use to terrify your children, but…”
Rowan never got to hear the rest of the sentence, because in the distance, a horn rang out, shaking the crystal leaves in the trees. The host charged forward, and the hounds bayed, making an unearthly sound that chilled her down to her bones.
She leaned low over Polaris’s neck as they thundered through the glittering trees, weaving to avoid the leaves that crashed to the ground as they passed.
Through the fear, Rowan felt a wild rush of excitement, her heart pounding in time to the horse’s hoof beats, the wind whistling through her hair. Then, she heard a heart-rending scream that made her pull up sharply on the reins. The scream rang out again from the forefront of the hunt, and she knew that they had caught their quarry.
She didn’t want to know, but she was drawn forward as if enchanted. The other riders moved aside to let her pass, like they thought she had a right to see. An icy knot of dread sat in her stomach, but she couldn’t turn back.
So, she guided Polaris up to the clearing where she could see Prince Niall standing with his spear raised as if he was about to make a killing blow. And then she heard something that made her heart go cold.
“Please! Don’t kill me. I have…a family!” a high, reedy voice panted in between pained sobs. Before she could stop herself, she slid from the horse and ran forward. The scene was like something out of her worst nightmares. Some kind of Otherworld creature, humanoid, but with large, black eyes and iridescent wings like a dragonfly, was pressed flat against one of the tress of ice. Pinned there, she realized with a horrified gasp, by an arrow piercing its shoulder.
“That only makes it worse. I have enough freeloaders on my lands as it is, and now you’re starting to breed?” Prince Niall growled, his voice so deep and frigid it was almost unrecognizable.
“What are you doing?” she exclaimed, rushing to interpose herself between the prince and his victim. Niall blinked, obviously startled to see her there, but he didn’t lower his spear.
“I told you before, didn’t I? Just a little pest control,” he said over the sound of the injured fae’s weeping.
“Pest? That is clearly a person! A thinking, speaking creature with…hopes and dreams, not some sort of insect!”
The prince scowled, and when he spoke again, his voice was laden with disgust. “Just because it can speak doesn’t make it a person. These things breed like rats, and they have no magic to speak of, so they go around stealing from others.”
“But you have more than enough magic to share, don’t you?”
“You don’t know anything about the real world, Lady Rowan,” he said, and he shoved her roughly aside. She staggered, barely keeping herself upright, as Niall turned back to the unfortunate fae. “Maybe if you tell me where the rest of them are, I’ll give you a head start.” The terrified creature clapped its mouth shut, shaking its head. Rowan turned her face away, but she couldn’t avoid hearing the sound the spear being driven home. She started running.
******************
It was, she reflected, wiping her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand, perhaps not the wisest decision she’d ever made. She hadn’t paid any attention to which way she was headed, and she’d run until her legs couldn’t go any farther.
Rowan was not particularly athletic, but even so, when she’d finally come to a stop and recovered her wits enough to look around, she couldn’t see anything that she recognized. If she’d been thinking properly, she would have at least taken Polaris.
Now, her stomach was twisting with hunger, and her legs felt leaden; all she could do was walk in a random direction and hope for rescue. Rescue from someone other than Niall would be preferable, but it also seemed unlikely. Unless she could find her way back to Lord Kennet’s court somehow. An idea came to her, and she reached into her pocket, relieved to find that her stick of chalk was still inside. However, there weren’t many good places to draw in the forest of clouds and ice.
She scraped her toe against the ground, and to her surprise, the white gave way to plain gray stone. With a thrill of triumph, she scraped the cloud-stuff off a small area and drew a home-finding circle on the ground.
However, when she powered the spell with her palm, it lit up as expected, but she only received a sense of whirling confusion. She tried several more times before sighing in defeat. “Perhaps location spells won’t work between domains. For all I know, they aren’t even on the same plane of reality,” she muttered to herself.
That made rescue seem even more improbable. Now what was she supposed to do? Go back to Niall with her tail between her legs like a whipped cur?
As Rowan contemplated sitting on the ground and feeling sorry for herself, at least temporarily, she heard a quiet growl. Instinct seized her. She froze, not even breathing as she listened again for the sound. There was nothing. Slowly, she retreated until her back was pressed against the unyielding surface of one of the trees.
Cold seeped through her clothes almost immediately, making her shiver. Just as her heartbeat began to slow, she heard the growl again, and finally she saw it, or them, pacing stealthily through the trees. Like a cross between tigers and wolves, she thought at once, but stark white with faint blue stripes. They obviously believed she would make a fine meal.
She was not a battlemage; there was little she could do that was offensive in nature, and most of that required careful preparation. Her only chance, she decided, was a trap spell. Crude and risky, but it was all she had. Into the ground nearby, she scratched a shape with her toe.
Then, squinting her eyes shut, she bit her finger as hard as she could, tasting salt and iron. She squeezed a drop of blood onto the symbol, and it flashed briefly with a color like a glowing ember. Then, she ran.
Rowan heard the creatures snarl as they realized the stalking game had become a chase. All she could do was flee and pray. And then, with a whoosh, the forest behind her exploded. The trap had been sprung. A blast of heat washed over her back, and she felt like someone had opened a spigot inside her, draining all the energy from her body.
That was the danger of using her blood; the spell was fed by her life energy, but it had grown much bigger than she intended. She fell to her knees. Flames crackled nearby. This is how I die, she thought. Devoured by my own spell.
“I’m sorry, Father,” she mumbled, and then the world tilted forward. She expected the ground, but instead, she felt herself swept upward.
“Foolish woman!” snarled a voice in her ear, familiar but not. “I know Fenella told you your power would be magnified here. Didn’t you realize that would also transfer to the energy expended, especially if you bound a spell to your own blood? Are you insane? You could have died!”
“Things were gonna eat me. Had to take a chance,” she mumbled, her head swimming as she blinked owlishly up at her rescuer.
“You’re lucky I was already looking for you,” the man said, the ire fading from his voice somewhat. “Niall said you ran off. I’ll take you back there.”
She was shaking her head in denial before she had even really processed the statement. “No, not there, not him, please,” she said, just as her brain finally placed the face looking down on her, the dark eyes and long black hair.
“Prince Aidan?” she questioned, too exhausted and confused to understand what had happened. His arms tightened around her so briefly she might have imagined it.
“It’s fine. You’re safe,” he said, and it was like that was all she needed to hear. Sleep claimed her in an unwavering grip.
woke up with her head pounding, her mouth dry and fuzzy like a damp sock. “Ugh,” she groaned, sitting up and finding herself in yet another unfamiliar bedroom. This one was open, airy even in the dark, a wall of windows overlooking a balcony on her right, and on her left, a candle on the bedside table illuminated a polished wooden floor, a plush rug dyed deep blue, and little else. Long, sheer curtains on the bed and the windows stirred in a warm night breeze that smelled faintly of flowers.
The door opened, flooding the room with light, and Rowan squinted, drawing the blankets closer around herself by instinct. “Oh, my Lady, you’re finally awake.”
“Fenella?!” The feeling of relief at seeing her handmaiden was almost stronger than her confusion. “How did you get here? Where are we?”
Fenella smiled as she brought over a tray with some fruit juice and a bowl of simple porridge. “We’re in Prince Aidan’s domain. He brought me here as soon as you arrived, to help care for you while you were recovering from overusing your magic.”
“How long have I been asleep?” Rowan asked, feeling somewhat alarmed. Surely, Aidan now thought she was an idiot. In fact, she had a vague memory of him saying that very thing. And Prince Niall was likely furious. What sort of mess had she gotten herself into?
“Almost three days,” Fenella replied, raising her eyebrows. “The Prince said you were quite brave to face down three iagrafanc on your own.”
“What?” It was not a word Rowan had ever heard before. Certainly not English. Now that she thought of it, it was a little surprising that the fae all seemed to speak her language so well. More magic?
“Ice claws,” Fenella translated. “Predators native to Prince Niall’s domain. I think he keeps them there for sport hunting and to discourage poachers.” Poachers. That reminded Rowan of the fae pinned to the tree, and she shivered.
She didn’t know why she was so surprised; her father had always told her that the Aos Si were dangerous and cruel. But she had begun to think that maybe he’d been wrong. She had started to trust Prince Niall, and now…
“You should eat your porridge before it gets cold. I promised to tell Prince Aidan the moment you were awake, so I need to send him a message.”
“You’re leaving?” Rowan winced at how pathetic she sounded, but she felt uneasy being alone in yet another strange place. No matter how grateful she was to Aidan for rescuing her and not taking her back to his brother, she hadn’t entirely forgotten what Gwenael had said about the rumors surrounding him. Plus, she had wanted to talk to Fenella about what happened with Prince Niall.
But the pale young fae only laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back. And I’ll bring you more substantial food later, if you want it,” she said, waving cheerfully as she exited the room. Rowan sighed and picked up her spoon.
It was unclear whether the porridge was good simply because all food in the Otherworld was delicious or because it had been days since she had eaten, but she finished it with relish, and then was seized by restlessness. After sleeping for days at a time, more rest was the opposite of what she needed.
She threw a dressing gown over her shoulders, took the candle from the bedside table, and padded across the room. Her original thought had been to go out onto the balcony, but halfway there, the candlelight shining on the opposite wall provided a pleasant surprise: a small, built-in bookcase, which was full.
The balcony was completely forgotten. Rowan strode to the bookshelf, candle held high, and started pulling out a few interesting looking titles.
“I guess you really are feeling better,” said a voice from the doorway, startling her so much that she nearly dropped the candle. Prince Aidan took two steps into the room and stopped, his dark eyes flicking over her.
“Prince Aidan, I-Yes. Much better, thank you. I hope you don’t mind me reading these,” she added. After the unpleasant surprise Niall had given her, she didn’t want to take anything for granted. But Aidan shrugged.
“Your handmaiden said you like to read. I told her to pick out some things from the library, but if there’s any particular subject you’re interested in, you’re welcome to go there yourself.” He paused and then, for the first time in her presence, he smiled. “Perhaps you should do some reading on offensive spells.”
Rowan scowled, feeling her face get hot, though she knew he was right. “My College doesn’t allow women to study battle magic, and my specialty is ritual magic. I did the best I could.”
“And you did a fantastic job, all things considered,” he said, raising his hands as if to ward off her censure. “But this is a dangerous place, as you have seen, and you will not have time to draw a magic circle to stop an assassin.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she said with a sigh. “And thank you for rescuing me. I can’t imagine what would have happened if you hadn’t come along.”
“You would have died,” he said matter-of-factly. “But, you didn’t, and we can put the incident behind us. I only came to tell you that I won’t be here for the next several days, but you’ll have the freedom of this house and grounds, at least. I’ll send someone to give you a tour in the morning.”
“I appreciate the hospitality, but wouldn’t it be better for me just to go back to your father’s court?” It felt safer, somehow, to retreat to neutral territory for a while. But Aidan shook his head.
“This is the safest place for you, for the time being. If you insist on going back there, I’m certainly not going to stop you, but my brother is in a temper at the moment, especially after you refused to return. I’ve blocked him from accessing my domain, but I can’t do the same for my father’s palace.”
Rowan shuddered involuntarily. “Is he really that angry? I suppose I’m making a lot of trouble for you with your brother. I’m sorry.”
Aidan took another two steps forward, and he was almost close enough to touch. His gaze was piercing. “I don’t blame you for what you did. Even I find that kind of treatment of weaker fae abhorrent.”
He paused, looking upward as if choosing his words carefully, and then met her gaze again. “I know that, for you, this is a deeply personal matter, but for the Court, your choice will influence our entire world, for possibly millennia to come. With so much on the line, well…it may bring out the worst in us. I will do my best to protect you, but from now on, you will have to be more cautious.”
This was the most she had ever heard Aidan speak at one time, but more than that, his entire tone had changed. No longer cold and dispassionate, he sounded worried for her, and even apologetic.
Almost without thinking, she reached out, touching him lightly on the forearm. “I will be more careful. Thank you.”
He looked down at her hand, looking for all the world as if he’d never seen such a strange thing in his life, but then he laid his hand over hers briefly. Rowan felt her heart give an erratic lurch. “I’m glad to hear it. I will see you when I return. Have a pleasant evening.”
“Good night,” she said to his retreating back, her emotions so conflicted she couldn’t put them into words even in her own mind. She turned back to the bookshelf, and luckily, the lure of knowledge was enough to allow her to set aside her worries for the time being. When her arms were too full to carry another volume, she relocated to a settee and spent several enjoyable hours reading about the history of human magicians in the Otherworld, until Fenella arrived with the promised tea and cakes.
*******************
Rowan rose late the next morning, her schedule having been somewhat disturbed by three days of sleeping, but Fenella appeared right away, asking if she wanted to eat out on the balcony with her guest.
“Guest?” she asked, automatically on her guard. She couldn’t think of anyone in the Otherworld that she’d like to eat breakfast with, unless by some miracle she was to see her father, and she was sure Lord Kennet wouldn’t allow that to happen.
“Didn’t Prince Aidan tell you that he was sending a member of his court to escort you while he was away?” Fenella inquired, a slight frown furrowing her brow.
“Oh, yes. I nearly forgot. Breakfast on the balcony sounds lovely,” Rowan said with a sigh of relief. “Who is it? Do you know them?”
“A bard named Teague, one of the lesser fae like myself. I only know him by reputation. He was quite the rascal in his youth, I hear, charming his way into half the bedchambers in the Court, but now he’s more known as a source of information than for skirt chasing.”
“That’s only because I am more discreet now than I was in my younger days,” said a voice from the half-open door.
Rowan spun around from her seat at the vanity, hastily covering her bare shoulders with a shawl, and saw a rather strange-looking creature leaning against the doorframe with casual confidence.
He was perhaps a bit shorter than she, standing gracefully upright on long hind legs, but all his other features, golden eyes set over a pointed muzzle, a coat of reddish fur, and a long busy tail, were that of a red fox.
“The Lady is not ready to see visitors,” Fenella scolded, brandishing the hairbrush like a weapon. “Could you not wait for me to come and fetch you?”
“You’re the one who left the door open. I was only strolling by on my way to the kitchen,” the vulpine fae said with a twinkle in his eye. “I am sorry to disturb you, Lady Rowan, but you needn’t worry. Unlike you mortals, the fae aren’t particularly scandalized by the mere sight of bare skin.”
That didn’t comfort her very much. He might not be embarrassed, but she certainly was. “Er…you must be Teague?”
“Teague the bard, at your service, my Lady,” he said, bowing with an exaggerated flourish. When he rose again, he smiled. “Now, I can see that I’m interrupting, so I will continue on my way to the kitchens and return with breakfast.”
“No, I can’t let you…!” Fenella called after him, but he kept going as if he didn’t hear her. “That one’s a troublemaker. Who knows what he thinks humans eat for breakfast?”
Rowan laughed. “Go on, I can at least dress myself.”
***************
An hour later, after a very pleasant breakfast of fruit, cheese, and something rather like a croissant, Rowan found herself walking alongside Teague in a lovely open courtyard. “So,” the bard said, pausing in his steps. “Prince Aidan mentioned that you were interested in the library, but I thought we should leave that for last, since I doubt you will want to leave.” His grin was knowing, but not, she thought, disdainful. “Is there anywhere in particular you want to see?”
“What are my choices? Is there anywhere I’m not supposed to go?” she asked, trying to maintain an innocently curious expression. But Teague only laughed.
“Clever, if somewhat transparent, my Lady. But if the Prince had any secrets to hide, I assure you that he wouldn’t keep them somewhere I would know about.
As it happens, he gave me no instruction, except that he would prefer that I not take you to the town or out into the mountains until he returned, as he has some concerns about your safety.
I imagine he wouldn’t want you digging around in his underthings or reading his journal, if he keeps such a thing, but otherwise, I am to guide you wherever you wish to go.”
Rowan couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I have no desire to view his underthings, I assure you. But tell me about the town.” Teague frowned. “I don’t intend to force you to accompany me there, don’t worry. It’s only that I never expected there to be anything like a town here. Is it like London?”
“I’ve never been to London,” Teague admitted, “But as far as I can guess, Serenalis is more beautiful and less crowded.”
“Everyone says that about their own home,” she replied with a cheerful chuckle.
“In this case, I am sure it is true. In Serenalis, the sky is enchanted to always show a clear night sky, and there, under the starlight, every kind of fae lives together in peace. Music plays in every courtyard, the air is filled with the aroma of delicious food and exotic spices, artisans sell their wares in shops and on the street corners. It is a lively place, an eternal night that never sleeps, but I have never felt so at peace anywhere else.”
“It sounds amazing. Almost too good to be true,” she said, a little wistfully. But Rowan was beginning to feel that all of the Otherworld was like that, beautiful and magical on the surface but concealing a heart of cruelty. If she wanted to know the truth of things, perhaps it would be best to ask outright. “You can lead me around the gardens if you wish, sir Teague, but no amount of sight-seeing is going to tell me what I really want to know. “
The bard grinned at her as if she’d scored a point. “You want to know about Prince Aidan, about what kind of person he is. You’re trying to figure out if you can trust him, but you’re not even sure you can trust me to give you an honest answer.”
“You’re quite right,” she said, impressed despite herself.
“I’ll answer you as best as I can, but you’ll have to judge my truthfulness for yourself.” Teague gestured for her to have a seat on a bench, and as she did so, he leaned on a tree nearby. “Did your charming maidservant tell you anything about the Princes?”
“She said that Aidan is the firstborn, but his mother was from the Court of Bones, and that angered some members of Lord Kennet’s court. He was raised in the Court of the Heavens until Niall was born, and then he lived with his mother’s relatives.”
“Indeed. Lord Kennet called him back here after Niall’s mother ran off. rumor has it that she got tangled up with some ice spirits from the Orient, but that’s neither here nor there. Whatever you think about Lord Kennet’s suitability as a father, he is much kinder to his children than anyone at the Court of Bones. An upbringing like that has an effect.”
“I suppose it would,” Rowan though, feeling a sudden cloud of gloominess descend for reasons she couldn’t quite put into words. Maybe it was only that she was remembering her own father, but she also couldn’t help but feel sorry for whatever horribleness Aidan had gone through.
Teague nodded. “You see how Prince Niall is, always himself, upfront about his opinions and beliefs, confident and forceful. You can’t expect the same thing from Prince Aidan. He learned early that when he allowed his true feelings to show, they would only be used against him. It’s made him cautious and secretive.”
Rowan shivered, the memory of Gwenael’s words rising to the surface. Blood sacrifice and worse. Could Prince Aidan really be involved in such horrible things? She didn’t want to believe it, but after being so thoroughly fooled by Niall…
“I didn't mean anything like what you're thinking,” Teague interjected. “I’ve heard the same rumors that you have, but I don't believe that Prince Aidan is hiding any dark secrets. I only meant that if you wish to know him, you'll have to work at earning his trust. The way he acts in public, I don't think that's who he truly is.”
“Does that mean you know him well?” she asked, now even more curious.
“Not really,” the bard said, shrugging. “I’ve got enough to do without trying to befriend someone as difficult as him. I’m just good at reading people. It’s an important skill for a bard.” He pushed himself up from the tree and held out his hand.
She took it, her eyebrow slightly raised. “Where are we going?” Teague pulled her to her feet with a wry grin.
“You may not be interested in the estate, but the prince would probably be annoyed if I did not at least familiarize you with the most important rooms. Besides, I assume you’d rather be able to get around without a guide.”
It was a good point. Maybe she hadn’t entirely believed that she would be allowed to wander freely, but now that she knew it was true, she couldn’t pass up this opportunity to learn the layout. “Yes, of course. Let’s be off.”