American Queen

Jenny’s funeral was towards the end of the campaign, only a month or two before the election. “Maybe this sister of his didn’t want him to get to the White House?” And then I have another thought. “Is she the one who leaked the story now?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Oh,” I say suddenly, sitting up. “My cousin Abilene, she said something to me today. ‘You don’t get to be that powerful that young without some big skeletons in your closet…’ She said there were rumors about Ash—rumors that I might not be able to handle. She must have heard about this somehow. This must be what she meant.” Shows how well she knows me, I think irritably, if she thinks something like this would make me feel differently about Ash.

But Merlin glances away from me when I say this, and an uncomfortable shiver works its way down my spine.

“Merlin?”

“There are…other…things about Maxen that I’m sure will come to light, when it’s the right time.” Merlin’s voice is unreadable, his face is a walled garden of secrecy. “And yes. I imagine they will be difficult to hear.”

“Like what? I don’t like the idea of everyone knowing things about the man I love that I don’t.”

At the word love, Merlin’s face softens. “I know. I’m not trying to be deliberately evasive, Ms. Galloway. If I could, I would tell you right now, because I believe that you do love Maxen. I believe that you have a right to know. But these things…well, they aren’t my secrets. They aren’t my stories to tell.”

I run a hand over my eyes. Between Abilene and Merlin, today has been filled with too much information, too much emotion. I just want to be back with Ash again, under his body or sitting at his feet, where things feel right.

Or with Embry…a voice whispers in my head.

I ignore it.

“One more thing before I go,” Merlin says, standing up and smoothing down his suit jacket. “I owe you an apology.”

I stand up to join him, but I don’t move to stop him or encourage him, and he continues.

“There are times that I know I must have seemed cruel or dismissive you. Times that I was cruel and dismissive. That was unkind to you, and I’m sorry. I only ever had Maxen’s wellbeing as a priority, and for a long time, I was concerned that you would hurt him.”

I’m dumbfounded by this. “Me hurt him?” I ask, thinking of all those nights I spent longing for him, my heartbreak in Chicago.

“You see yourself and your potential much differently than the rest of us do, I assure you.”

“Now you sound like Embry,” I mutter, and maybe that was a mistake, because it sends a frown pulling at Merlin’s mouth.

“Indeed. Well, it’s not so irrational to believe that you had the power to hurt Maxen—one look at his face that night in London, and I knew he was lost to you. And that’s why I introduced him to Jennifer Gonzalez, and did everything I could to make sure they married.”

“You set him up with Jenny to keep him away from me?” I have no idea how to think about this, even though I know exactly how to feel. A slow anger creeps up my body. “You wanted me away from him badly enough that you made him marry someone else?”

“I didn’t make him do anything,” Merlin says mildly. “I introduced him to Jennifer and encouraged their affection as much as possible, but in the end, the choice was his. He chose her.”

Why this still stings, I have no idea, but it does. I wrap my arms around my body. “I never understood,” I murmur, “why you disliked me so much.”

“I told you,” he says, walking towards the door, “I worried you would hurt Maxen. I still worry about this, but it’s out of my hands now. Perhaps this too is destiny. All of our destinies.”

“I won’t hurt him,” I say, following him to the door.

“You won’t mean to. Not the way his sister wants to hurt him. But you will hurt him much worse than she ever could. My only hope is the knowledge that you’ll bring him more joy than pain.”

“You can’t know any of that,” I say, and I hate how petulant my voice sounds. “You’re not actually a wizard.” Then I add, for the sake of the seven-year-old Greer, “Are you?”

Merlin laughs again, the same room-warming laugh, and despite myself, my anger abates a little. “Goodbye, Ms. Galloway. I am sure we will see each other again soon.”

I hold open the door as he walks out, and when he steps onto the front stoop, something occurs to me. “You said you wouldn’t tell me those rumors about Ash because they weren’t your stories to tell. But then why did you feel like you could tell me about Ash’s birth parents?”

Merlin turns and smiles. He seems oblivious to the brutal November wind. “Haven’t you guessed it yet? That story is my story too.”

It’s obvious now that he’s said it, and I can’t believe I didn’t guess before. “You were the boy, weren’t you? The boy on the estate who showed Luther the way into her room?”

“After Maxen’s sister told him the truth, he came to tell me. I’d had no idea, but as soon as I heard the whole tale, I knew. I’d never forgotten that night, the night I met the President. I’d never forgotten how sad he looked, how…gutted…he was with loving someone. But after Maxen told me the story and I put it all together, I realized I should have known he was Luther’s son long before then. Because that gutted look? Maxen had been wearing it for years whenever he thought about you.”