“You’re right,” I said. “And I have to do this. I know that. If I ever want a normal life, I have to face the false king or he’ll never leave me alone.” I sighed and walked over to the window, brooding into the coming twilight. “It’s just…this time it feels different,” I said, seeing my reflection in the glass, staring back at me. “I have so much more to lose. You and Ash, the Nevernever, my family, my dad.” I stopped, resting my forehead against the glass. “My dad,” I groaned. “What am I going to do with my dad?”
There was a thump from the hallway, and I closed my eyes. Well, that was just about perfect timing. I sighed and straightened up. “How long have you been standing there, Dad?”
“From about the time you were talking about luck.” Paul came into the room, sitting across on the piano bench. I watched him in the glass reflection. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” he asked softly.
Puck stood and discreetly wandered out the door, leaving me and Dad alone except for the snoozing Grimalkin. I hesitated, then nodded. “I hate to leave you alone like this,” I said, turning around. “I wish I didn’t have to go.”
Paul’s brow was furrowed, as if he was struggling to understand, but his eyes remained clear as he slowly nodded. “This is…important?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Will you be back?”
My throat closed. I swallowed and took a deep breath to open it. “I hope so.”
“Meghan.” Dad hesitated, fighting for words. “I know…I don’t understand a lot of things. I know you’re…part of something beyond me, something I won’t ever understand. And I’m supposed to be your father, but…but I know you can handle yourself just fine. So, you go.” He smiled then, the wrinkles around his eyes creasing. “Don’t say goodbye, and don’t worry about me. You do what you have to do. I’ll be here when you come back.”
I smiled at him. “Thanks, Dad.”
He nodded, but then his eyes went glassy, as if he’d used up his allotment of sanity with that conversation. Sniffing the air, he perked up, his face brightening like a little kid’s. “Food?”
I nodded, feeling suddenly old. “Yeah. Why don’t you go back to your room, and I’ll call you when dinner is ready, okay? You can…work on your song until then.”
“Oh. Right.” He beamed at me as he rose, walking back to the hallway. “It’s almost done, you know,” he announced over his shoulder, swelling with pride. “It’s for my daughter, but I’ll play it for you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered, and he was gone.
Silence filled the room, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall and the occasional scuffle from the kitchen. I walked back to the couch and sank down next to Grimalkin, uncertain what to do next. I knew I should find Ash and apologize, or at least explain why I hadn’t wanted him to come. My stomach was in knots, knowing he was angry with me. I had only wanted to spare him more pain; how was I supposed to know releasing a faery from his promise was such a breach of trust?
“If you are so worried about him,” Grimalkin said into the quiet, “why not ask him to be your knight?”
I blinked at him. “What?”
His eyes cracked open, slitted and gold, watching me in amusement. “Your knight,” he said again, slower this time. “You do understand the word, do you not? It has not been that long for humans to forget.”
“I know what a knight is, Grim.”
“Oh, good. Then it should be easy for you to understand the significance.” Grimalkin sat up and yawned, curling his tail around his legs. “It is an old tradition,” he began. “Even among the fey. A lady asks a warrior to become her knight, her chosen protector, for as long as they both draw breath. Only those with royal blood can enact this ritual, and the choosing of a champion is something only the lady can do. But it is the ultimate show of faith between the lady and the knight, for she trusts him above all others to keep her safe, knowing that he would lay down his life for her. The knight still obeys his queen and court, to the best of his ability, but his first and only duty is to his lady.” He yawned again and stuck one hind leg into the air, examining his toes. “A charming tradition, to be sure. The courts love such dramatic tragedies.”
“Why is it a tragedy?”
“Because,” came Ash’s voice from the doorway, making me jump, “should the lady die, the knight will die, as well.”
I stood quickly, heart pounding. Ash didn’t enter the room, continuing to watch me from the frame. His glamour aura was hidden, carefully concealed, and his silver eyes were cold and blank. “Walk with me outside,” he ordered softly, and when I hesitated, added, “please.”