SIX
Once again, they stood together in front of a glowing portal, and Meirion took her hand. If she had not been so lost in her own thoughts, she might have noticed the way his eyes lingered on her, but she was still feeling deeply shaken by Rhosyn’s revelation. “I’m sorry to take you away from them so soon, and by the gate of all things, but after what Lord Aidan revealed to me, I fear we cannot wait a moment longer.”
“Are things really that bad?’ she asked, blinking at him in confusion and shaking her head as if to clear the cobwebs out of it.
“It seems the Court is currently being managed by one of my younger half-sisters, Neria, and that’s nothing particularly concerning in and of itself. But there have been scattered reports that her male companion may be none other than Aidan’s exiled brother, Niall.”
“Isn’t that the one who tried to kill him and my… Lady Rowan on several occasions?” She’d done her best to read up on her own family history since finding out about her adoption. Niall did not sound like a particularly pleasant person.
Meirion nodded. “The very same. The problem is that assassination isn’t exactly illegal in the Otherworld. If it comes to it, I have little fear that your parents and brother will support him over me for the succession, but the damage he could do in the interim can’t be ignored. And I wouldn’t want any harm to come to Neria, or any of my other relatives.”
“So, what do we do?” she asked. His fingers tightened on her hand, and a look of momentary relief crossed his face. Perhaps he thought she’d balk at the danger, but in truth, she was glad to have something else to think about.
“We’ll go into Court and introduce ourselves. My primary intention is first to observe the situation, but if there is an opportunity to separate Niall from Neria, that would be ideal. Be on your guard, of course. I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to attack us without provocation, but the way things are, I cannot be sure.”
Seren nodded, taking a deep breath. “I understand. Let’s go.”
This trip through the gate wasn’t quite as harrowing. She wavered on her feet when they hit the ground, but Meirion held her shoulder to keep her upright, and after a moment of dizziness, she felt almost normal. “All right?” he asked, his voice low.
“Yeah,” she replied, another deep breath dispelling the last of her nausea. “I’m okay,” she said. He gave her shoulder a final squeeze and then offered his arm once again. It was becoming a familiar gesture, though the sensation of his bare bicep under her fingers was new and pleasant. He was, she had discovered, not quite as gangly as his clothed appearance might suggest.
They walked at an unhurried pace, giving her the chance to look around. The Court of Waves seemed to reside on a tropical island. Palm trees swayed overhead, shading the path they were traveling down, and between their trunks on either side, she could see the ocean glinting in the distance. The sound of gulls pierced the air at regular intervals. They had materialized much closer to the palace, it seemed, because she could already see the gates ahead, massive and beautiful creations of silver, pearl, and abalone shaped to resembled curling waves. They were closed, but when the guards realized who was approaching, they nearly fell on the ground in surprise as they hastily kneeled before their Prince.
“Prince Meirion, you have returned,” said the taller of the two in a strange, rasping voice. It took Seren a moment to realize that his brown skin was covered by a short pelt of sleek fur and his fingers were slightly webbed.
“I have,” Meirion said archly. “Do you intend to deny me entry to my own home?” She’d never heard his voice radiate such power before, and when she glanced over at him, his eyes seemed to glow from within.
“N-no. Of course not. But we should inform the… er… them, of your arrival. They’ll want to formally greet you, I’m sure.”
“By all means,” Meirion replied. “We’ll be sure to walk slowly.” The great gates were pushed open, and the smaller guard scurried ahead of them. They were true to their word, and kept their pace sedate. “They haven’t added to their defenses,” Meirion said, for her ears alone. “Which means they weren’t expecting trouble. Your family has kept word of my return remarkably quiet.”
Seren was not surprised. Her mother was obviously a smart woman, and if anything, she would guess that Lord Aidan was even more intelligent. He had the aura of someone with a cool, strategic mind.
Their timing was perfect, for as they reached the bottom of a wide staircase carved from turquoise marble, a man and a woman appeared at the top. The woman looked even younger than Seren, still a teenager, with copper skin and hair the color of flames. The man on her arm was something else entirely. Seren was surprised by his appearance, since, as Aidan’s brother, she thought there would be some resemblance. But his hair was so fair it was nearly white, and where the Lord of the Heavens was lean and elegant, Niall had a bulky, intimidating build.
He wore enameled armor the color of a spring sky, quite out of place among the rest of the denizens of the Court, who, like Seren and Meirion, wore little but colorful wraps to preserve their modesty. “Who are you truly, charlatan?” Niall said in a harsh, booming voice. “Everyone knows that Prince Meirion is dead.”
“If you doubt my words, I have no objection to proving myself,” Meirion said coolly. The light in his eyes flared, and Seren hear the ocean roar in response.
Niall blinked in surprise, but Neria’s expression was one of absolute relief. “So, it is you,” she said in a wavering voice. “Mother often spoke of you. She never believed you were dead.”
“I suspect Lady Aine was well aware of my location,” Meirion said with a hint of sourness. “She was content to leave me to my own devices. But when I heard she had been killed, of course I had to return to ensure the safety of our people.”
“I will be grateful for any aid that you can provide,” she replied, but Niall sneered.
“Yes, I’m sure you came back for altruistic reasons alone. And who is this woman?” he asked, his voice dripping disdain as he narrowed his eyes. Seren supposed she must look rather familiar to him, and if he wasn’t aware of her existence, it would certainly produce some confusion.
Meirion smiled with an almost predatory amusement. “Forgive me for not introducing her. Princess Seren is the fourth daughter of Lord Aidan and Lady Rowan of the Court of the Heavens.” Niall’s eyes widened in surprise and anger, and he opened his mouth, no doubt to protest. Meirion cut him off, putting his free hand over her own as he spoke.
“She is also, perhaps more importantly, my wife, so she has every right to be here. Certainly, as much as you do.” If the barb was intended to provoke Niall, it was definitely successful. Seren suspected that it was only Neria’s hand on his arm that restrained him from lunging toward them.
Meanwhile, Seren was herself still reeling over Meirion’s declaration. Although it was technically true, he had never referred to her in that way before, and to do so in a such a public setting was not something that could taken back easily. Her heart was still beating erratically in her chest when Neria spoke.
“I’m sure everyone in the Court will be delighted by your return, as well as the news of your marriage. I hope you plan on at least staying for the evening meal,” she said, her eyes pleading.
“If it isn’t too much trouble, we were planning on remaining until the matter of succession is settled,” Meirion answered, somehow managing to be both gracious and commanding in the same sentence.
“Of course. I will have your old rooms prepared for you and Princess Seren right away,” she said, waving her hand off to the side, which set off a flurry of excited activity. The conversation stalled, and Seren saw the opportunity to speak.
“Meirion has told me about the beautiful gardens here,” she said, beaming up at Neria, and hoping there were actually gardens. His hand squeezed hers in encouragement. “Perhaps you could give me a tour, so the men can discuss swords and axes, or whatever it is they talk about.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Meirion suppressing laughter.
“Oh, yes, that’s a wonderful idea,” Neria said, stepping forward with a smile. Niall glowered but could do little to prevent it, and Seren reached out and took her hand, whispering a shield spell as she did so. Meirion, nodded his head once to show he understood.
“We have many things to discuss, you and I,” he said, taking a single step toward Niall, who backed up, making a panicked chopping motion with one hand. They all heard the twang of a bowstring, but Seren reacted first, knowing without looking who the target would be. She darted forward and shoved Meirion out of the way. Pain exploded in her shoulder, turning her vision white.
She felt arms close around her, and there was shouting. “Stay with me, Seren,” rasped Meirion’s voice in her ear. She wanted to reassure him, but it was difficult to speak, and the world seemed to have drained of color. A loud snapping sound, followed by searing pain, was the last thing she remembered.
****************************
When she next awoke, the situation was familiar, even if the bedroom was not. Meirion was sitting next the bed, one of her hands held in both of his own, his head bowed over it, as if in prayer. Concerned, Seren reached out and touched his hair. Her shoulder wasn’t bandaged, but it ached dully. She barely registered it, caught as she was by the fierce emotions reflected in his eyes as he looked up. “Meirion?” she said, and her voice sounded small and weak to her ears.
“Why, Seren? Why did you risk yourself like that? You could have been killed!” he said, his voice rising sharply.
“I wasn’t going to let Niall assassinate you like he probably did your mother,” she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I can take care of myself. Besides, I would have rather…” he swallowed, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t risk your life for me. If I hadn’t been here… That arrow was poisoned with a potent magic inhibitor. Among other things, it makes it very difficult for your body to heal.”
“It was meant for you, to reduce your power. So, it’s better that it hit me. In the grand scheme of things, my power hardly matters,” she said, looking away from him and the anger and surprise on his face.
“It matters to me,” he said, his voice suddenly quiet, almost drowned out by the sound of rushing waves through window.
“I don’t see why it should,” she muttered, letting all of her hurt and fear and sorrow rise to the surface without meaning to. But once begun, she couldn’t seem to stop herself, “I know I’m only a burden to you. At least if I had died, you’d be free.” She was shocked by the bitterness in her own words. Perhaps it was only that she was tired of feeling like a parcel he was forced to carry by his side, tired of feeling like the only one who didn’t belong, who didn’t know what was going on, but even as she said it she knew it wasn’t true. He inhaled sharply, and she felt his fingers resting lightly on her shoulder, as if he wanted to comfort her but was afraid she was fragile enough to break.
“I don’t see you as a burden, Seren, and I certainly don’t want to be free of you,” he said, his voice thick. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way.”
She reached up and put her hand over his, feeling tears threaten. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t even know what I’m saying.” His weight settled on the bed next to her. She wanted to look up at him but was afraid of what she would see. However, Meirion had no intention of allowing her to avoid his gaze.
His fingers touched her face, gently tilting her chin upward until she was forced to make eye contact. There was sadness in his expression, but more than that, it was filled with gentle longing that stole her breath.
“Tell me what you want from me, Seren. What can I do to convince you of your own importance?” She couldn’t help but laugh weakly. If only he knew what he was asking. But her heart was so raw that she felt unable to speak anything less than the truth.
“I love you, Meirion. I only want everything you have to give.” The tears started to flow in hot streams down her face, and she reached up to dash them away, only for him to grab her hand. He brought her knuckles to his mouth, and the touch of his lips made her shiver. Then he pulled her closer and kissed a teardrop from her cheek. She couldn’t move or speak in the face of his sudden closeness.
“You have me already,” he said softly. “I know I’ve done a poor job of showing it, but I knew I loved you from the moment I saw you fall to that monster back in Cambridge.” This only made the tears fall harder, and she hiccupped as she slipped her arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry,” he said before touching his lips to hers in a whisper of a kiss. “I love you.” The next kiss was more insistent, especially once she gained the wherewithal to return it. He gathered her close to him, and she could feel the warmth of his skin against hers, one hand cradling the back of her neck, one sliding upward along her spine. She felt like she could happily drown in him, in his warmth and his kiss. His mouth opened to admit her questing tongue, and he shuddered in her arms as their kiss deepened.
This small evidence of his passion made her want more; she sucked his lower lip between her teeth, and he gave a gasp that turned into a groan. He let himself fall into the bed next to her, pulling her on top of him, which she did not mind in the least.
She trailed kisses over his jaw and down to his neck, which seemed to seriously hamper his own effort to unwrap the fabric around her breasts. Finally, he was successful, and she shivered as her chest was bared.
Meirion devoured her with his eyes while caressing with his hands, causing her back to arch in sudden bliss. This motion made her abruptly aware of how much he desired her, and she rolled her hips in a teasing fashion, delighted by the discovery.
“Seren,” he moaned her name with desperation, and she reached down to untie the skirt from her waist. She had every intention of giving him what he wanted because she wanted it just as much. Her body ached for him, but then she remembered, with a sort of guilty horror, what Rhosyn had told her.
“Meirion,” she began, swallowing thickly, “Rhosyn told me… if we don't… if we aren't together, the bond will fade. If you want…”
He surged upward, taking her face in his hands. “I want you,” he said roughly. “Not just for this moment, but for my whole life. I made that choice when I performed the ritual. I have no intention of changing my mind now, if you’ll have me.”
She couldn't answer except to kiss him again, with renewed fervor, and she pushed him back down on the bed. The rest of their clothes, such as they were, ended up on the floor, and Seren sat on her knees over him, sliding her palms over his chest as she leaned in for another kiss. For all his earlier restraint, Meirion was fierce in passion, grinding his hips upward and nipping her lip with his teeth. “So impatient,” she said in a teasing tone.
“Seren, please,” he begged, his hands grasping her hips like a drowning man with a life preserver. She smiled and lowered herself onto him, a slow slide that made them both gasp and sigh. It was relief, desire, bliss, and ache all at once, and for a moment they both were still, resting in the intense sensations of their joining. Meirion’s hands glided up her sides, and she moved her hips in a languorous circle. He groaned, rocking into her, and it was so good that she no longer wanted to play.
They moved together in earnest, their rhythm matched to the rush of the waves outside the window. Each time she pulled back, he rose to meet her, and when they came together, he struck a place within her that made her bones sing with pleasure. Seren could feel the heat swirling in her belly, and lightning prickled down her limbs. Her nails skated over his chest, and their tempo increased, panting breaths becoming moans as the peak neared.
One last shivering glide and ecstasy broke over her like a thunderstorm. Tension released from her muscles in unspooling bliss, and she clutched Meirion’s shoulders and moaned his name. Through it all, he moved under her, driving each crest higher until her mind contained nothing but pleasure, and then, with a gasping cry, he lurched up into her, coming to his own shuddering release.
Out of breath and pleasantly limp, Seren laid against Meirion’s chest, listening to his heartbeat slow, and he ran his fingers through her hair. When she felt recovered enough to speak, she raised her head to look at him. He smiled at her, but his eyes were wide, as if he still couldn't believe she was real. “That was… you are amazing,” he said softly. She scooted forward and kissed him; it was difficult to want to stop kissing him, but she knew there were things they needed to talk about.
“And you are wonderful, and distractingly attractive, but I’m sure there’s more important things going on right now. What happened to Niall and Neria?”
“To me, you are the most important,” he said, “But you are right that there are serious matters we need to attend to. Niall escaped. I admit I was much too concerned about you to bother going after him. Neria is fine. She's been confined to her rooms, for questioning, but I don't suspect her of having actual ill will.”
“What will we do now?” she asked, one of her hands moving idly to trace over his cheek. She wanted to map the planes of his face with her fingers, to fix them in her memory. He turned his head to kiss her palm.
“I sent a message to your parents, I mean Lady Rowan and Lord Aidan. I suspect they’ll be arriving in the next day or two. But you and I need to speak to Neria, and then I suppose we’ll have to go down to the palace.”
“I thought this was the palace,” she said, frowning in confusion.
“This is more of a summer cottage that the Court uses for greeting guests from other Courts, or from the mortal world. The true Court is… well, you’ll see,” he said with an enigmatic smile.
“Meirion, you shouldn't keep secrets from your wife,” she said with false ferocity. Even saying the word made her heart turn over in her chest. He truly loved her, and they would be together forever; it was a heady feeling.
He chuckled. “This isn't a secret. It's a surprise. Totally different. I think you'll like it,” he replied, kissing her cheek. “But before we do any of that, we need to make ourselves presentable again. As much as I'd like to, we can’t lie around in bed for the rest of the day.”
*******************
Seren knew that things were complicated and likely to become more so, but all of that paled in significance to her current happiness. She needed Meirion’s assistance to rewrap the fabric around her breasts and to replace some of her jewelry, but he didn't seem to mind helping, judging by the number of times he paused to kiss the back of her neck.
When they emerged from the room, the whispers of the servants followed them, but Meirion took her hand, lacing his fingers in between her own. It was, perhaps, not as regal as linked elbows, but it was more intimate and reassuring.
The room where Neria was being held was just down the hall: Seren could tell by the two guards stationed in front of it. They shifted from foot to foot, possibly made uncomfortable by the necessity of holding Neria captive. It was a day of changes for everyone. However, they felt about the return of their Prince, they stood straight and alert at his approach. “Is everything well?” Meirion asked.
“Your sister has been provided with everything she requested, just as you instructed, my Prince. All is quiet. Niall has made no appearance,” answered one guard, not one of those from the door, but a slender creature with blue-gray skin. He cleared his throat. “If I might?”
“Please, speak.” Meirion said. He kept his tone level, but Seren could tell by the tension in his jaw that he was anxious.
“Begging your pardon, Prince Meirion, but I hope you aren’t too severe with her. Neria, I mean. We were all hit hard by the Lady’s death, and Niall was so charming and helpful. We all thought maybe he’d turned over a new leaf, and she’s just a young girl,” the guard stammered.
Meirion smiled, his features softening. “I have no intention of punishing her. But I do need information about Niall. The guards are more for her protection than mine.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” the guard replied with an audible sigh of relief, before standing away from the door. Meirion knocked, and a quiet voice bade them enter.
Neria’s room was painted mint green. The furniture was all white, small and delicate. It was still the room of a child. As soon as they passed the threshold, she rushed forward, her face streaked with tears. “Thanks, the Tree, you’re both all right. I am so sorry, Meirion. I should have realized…”
He put a hand on her shoulder and guided her over to the table in the corner. “No apologies are necessary, sister. It was a heavy burden to have placed upon you, and if the rest of the Court was not brave or strong enough to stand up to Niall, or clever enough to see his true intentions, then you can hardly expect yourself to have done.”
The moment all three of them were seated at the table, another servant, a dainty creature with a crest of turquoise feathers, appeared as if by magic. Perhaps it was; magic was rare and difficult enough in the mortal world that was hardly, if ever, used for trivial purposes. In the Otherworld, where Seren could feel magic tingling on her skin at every moment, there were likely hundreds of uses mortals hadn’t even considered.
Either way, it only took a few minutes for the servants to return with a meal, along with coffee and tea. Even Seren could see that the simple act of eating and drinking had put Neria at ease.
“Now,” Meirion said, setting down his tea cup. “Tell me everything you know about Niall.”