Oh, damnation.
Cursing my life, my ex-fiancé and myself in equal measure, I smiled ferociously at my young interrogator and kept her arm tightly trapped in mine. “Of course,” I said. “But not right now. It’s time to sing!”
And with my ex-fiancé following every step, I sang furiously all the way to Cosgrave Manor.
5
In the flurry of greetings that met us at the door, I was finally able to detach myself from young Miss Banks, using the pretext of disposing of my outerwear. A quick duck and a dive behind the group of gathered visitors all exclaiming and commenting upon our arrival, a careful swerve past the servants hovering behind them, and I was free of my would-be questioner...
...But my ex-fiancé fell smoothly into step beside me. “May I take your coat?” he inquired sardonically.
“Certainly,” I told him, and tossed Jonathan’s greatcoat straight at his chest. Then I spun away on one heel of Lady Cosgrave’s excellent boots and strode across the blue-and-gold-tiled floor of the entry hall as quickly as I could.
With his annoyingly long legs, Wrexham had no difficulty keeping up, but at least he couldn’t grasp my elbow to stop me with both of his arms full of thickly piled coat. “Harwood—!” he began, in a near-snarl.
“Ah, there you are!” Someone far more frightening stood before us: my sweet, smiling sister-in-law, waiting for me in the open archway between me and the rest of the house. Her bright gaze moved from me to my ex-fiancé. Her eyebrows rose. Her mouth dropped open to form an “O” of delight that filled me with instant and overwhelming dread.
“No!” I said hastily. “No, we haven’t reconciled. And we’re certainly not going to! In point of fact, I can’t even speak to anyone at all anymore. I’m—I’m terribly, terribly tired. From my exertions. I think I need a nap.”
“Cowardly, Harwood,” Wrexham muttered. “An unworthy move.”
I winced but stood my ground.
Amy’s eyes narrowed as she studied me. “You do look tired,” she said. “I’d better show you to your room.”
“You needn’t—” I began, just as Wrexham said, “Mrs. Harwood, if you please—”
“The servants,” she told me firmly, “are all occupied, and you couldn’t possibly find it on your own. As for you, Mr. Wrexham...” She gave my ex-fiancé a firm nod. “I’m sure we’ll both be delighted to speak with you later.”
“Delighted,” he said wryly, and bowed deeply before turning away without any further argument.
My mouth dropped open in outrage as I stared after him.
If Wrexham actually possessed the heretofore-unseen ability to recognize an impossible battle when he saw one...then why had he never been intimidated out of arguing by me?
But there was no time to fathom the depths of that injustice as Amy tucked a firm hand into the crook of my arm and swept me, simmering, through the archway. She chatted happily all the way as she led me up a curving set of stairs, the walls beside it lined by stately portraits of the many women who’d proudly led the Cosgrave family and the nation itself through the centuries. Every one of the Ladies Cosgrave, judging by the weighty gold-and-silver torcs painted around all of their necks, had been a member of the Boudiccate in her own turn...and it was impossible, as I passed that grand and glowering procession, not to be entirely aware of my own bruised and disordered appearance and generally unwomanly lack of dignity by comparison.
Even my own mother, by the end, had given up on my ever following in her famous path. Still, it had been rather easier to stand strong in that recollection four months earlier, before I’d failed in the vocation for which I’d given up her shining legacy and pride.
“...And of course,” Amy continued as she swept me off the staircase and down a branching corridor lit by warm, expensive fey-lights set in spellbound sconces along the wall, “there are all the latest troubles with the elves to complicate matters, and—”
“What?” I stopped abruptly, tugging her to a halt along with me.
Amy’s eyes widened as she looked at me. “My goodness, Cassandra, I didn’t imagine you were actually listening to me. I’ve never known you to be interested in politics before!”
I forced myself to unclench my jaw and suck in a deep breath. “What were you saying about the elves, exactly?”
“Surely you must have heard—well. No. You haven’t been following the news lately, have you?” She looked pained at her own misstep.
I gave her arm a bracing squeeze. “Oh come now, Amy. You know perfectly well I was never a great reader of newspapers even before...what happened.” No, I’d been far too consumed with my own magical pursuits beforehand, and afterward...well. “You needn’t worry about any tender feelings on my part,” I said briskly. “Only explain to me what’s been happening.”
She sighed and tugged me with her along the corridor, leaning into my side and lowering her voice as we walked. “It’s more what hasn’t happened, actually. The elves send a representative each year at the end of Samhain, when the fairies make their great pilgrimage underground. At least one elf always stands beside an officer of the Boudiccate to jointly light the fairies’ passage.”
“And?” I glanced instinctively at the closest spellbound sconce on the wall nearby. The fey-light there burned golden-bright, illuminating the leaping horse pattern of the mosaic art along the wall in a warm, caressing glow...but of course that was little rational comfort; it would continue to burn regardless of its creator’s fate. Like fey-silk (soft as butterflies’ wings, the advertisements always claimed), fey-lights cost the earth, and for good reason. They lasted for years with no need for renewal, even during the darker turnings of the year when the unpredictable fairies themselves were safely contained underground.
“This year, no representative from the elven court arrived.” Amy’s face tightened, fine white lines of tension showing beneath her warm brown skin. “The elven king sent his regrets instead, and his best wishes.”
“And...?” I frowned, thinking of the icy elf-lord I’d just faced. “That sounds like the best possible outcome, I should think. If you can keep the elves’ friendship without being afflicted with their company—”
“Oh, really, Cassandra!” Amy shook her head at me, unaccustomed exasperation leaking into her voice. “I know you’ve spent most of your life fighting not to be drawn into politics, but just this once, take a moment to actually think about it. They haven’t missed that ceremony for four hundred years! It was either a deliberate snub, in which case our treaty is in grave danger—or else a sign that their own court is in such disarray that he didn’t trust any one of his courtiers to meet with us in public this year.”
“I see.” I nibbled at my lower lip. What was it that the elf-lord had said to defend himself against the charge of kidnapping? “Our noble king would never hear of such a thing.” But his tone...