A Red-Rose Chain

“WHERE DID SHE GO?” demanded Tia. The rising note of rage in her tone was completely at odds with her flower child exterior. “My brother has been elf-shot because he was in service to his Queen! Loyalty cuts in both directions. Where did she go?”


“Away,” I said. I had some ideas about where “away” might be, but I wasn’t going to discuss them with an angry Cu Sidhe. Not before I’d had a chance to find and talk to Arden myself. I turned to Lowri. “You’ve been with royal courts for years, right?”

“Most of my life,” she said, sounding uncertain. She looked worried, but not angry. That was a good sign. Her loyalty was to the Queen who held her oaths, not to the people who got hurt because they were in that Queen’s orbit. That might seem cold, but in the moment, I was grateful for her relative objectivity. “Why?”

“Because the Queen just went for a walk and the seneschal is down for the count. Sorry to do this to you, Lowri, but this is where you step up and show what you’ve learned from all those years of service.”

Lowri’s eyes widened. She took a half step backward, her hooves making a staccato tapping noise against the floor as the implications of my words sank in and anchored themselves to her bones. She was the only person in the room with the experience and the training necessary to do what needed to be done, especially if we were facing a declaration of war: after all, she had served in Silences both before and during the war. She knew it, and I knew it, and the only way for her to avoid it would be to break her oaths to the throne—something I didn’t think she was capable of deciding to do.

Normally, I would have felt bad about essentially strong-arming someone into taking a position in someone else’s court, however temporarily. This wasn’t a normal situation. Arden had turned tail and run. Madden was asleep, and he was going to stay that way for the next hundred years. The Mists might be an old kingdom, but Arden’s court was very young, and it didn’t have that many trained options.

Lowri swallowed. “All right, but I’m only doing it until the Queen finds someone more suited to the role,” she said.

I wasn’t sure whether she was trying to convince me, or convince herself. “Of course,” I said. “Now, what are your orders?”

As seneschal—even acting seneschal—Lowri was the voice of the Queen. That was why attacking Madden was such an effective declaration of war. Take out a random member of a royal court, and there’s a measure of “that was offensive, let’s talk it over.” Take out the seneschal, or worse, the heir, and it’s on.

Lowri took a deep breath. Then she turned to Tia, and asked, “Will you help get Madden settled until we can locate the room you spoke of? The knowe is still being reopened, but I promise you, his quarters are more than suitable, at least for the time being. The Queen’s brother sleeps in a room very much like his.”

“Yes, of course,” said Tia, not looking particularly mollified. She glared at the space where Arden had been, nose wrinkled in canine disgust, before walking over to slide her shoulders under Madden’s arm, supporting his weight. Lowri stepped clear. Tia turned her glare on the diminutive Glastig. “We are not happy. We understood the risks of Madden’s involvement with this court, and were glad of them. It’s rare that the Cu Sidhe are recognized as helpmeets and pack mates by Kings and Queens. But I speak for our entire family when I say that we assumed loyalty would be met with loyalty, not with running away.”

“I understand,” said Lowri. “We’re going to fix this.” She glanced pleadingly at me.

Much as I might want to put up my hands and say, “Hell, no, I didn’t sign on to get involved with any wars,” I knew better. Part of being who and what I am means that things like this are never somebody else’s problem. In the end, they always wind up being mine.

“I’m going to find the Queen and bring her back,” I said. “You have my word, as a hero.”

“Good,” said Tia. Her gaze flicked to Tybalt. “You consort with cats, but Madden spoke well of you despite that.”