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I frowned and turned to the room at large. "Why call her creature? I don't remember the demi-fey's reputation being this bad before I left the court."
"Niceven's court has become little more than the queen's errand ru
"I don't understand. What threat? You've all been saying that the demi-fey are no threat."
"I have not said that," Doyle said, "but what the demi-fey did to Galen was not the first time it has been done, though this time was more... severe. More flesh was taken than I'd seen before."
Galen turned away at that and began to busy himself at the sink, rinsing out the bowls, placing them in the dishwasher. He seemed to be making more noise than was necessary, as if he didn't want to hear the conversation anymore.
"You know that crossing the queen can get you sent to the Hallway of Mortality to be tortured by Ezekiel and his redcaps."
"Yes."
"Now she will sometimes threaten us with being given to the demi-fey. In effect, Niceven's court, once a court of faerie with all the respect and ceremonies of any court, has been reduced to nothing more than another boggle to be dragged out of the dark and sent to torment others."
"The sluagh are not merely boggles," I said, "and they have a court with their own customs. They have been one of the greatest threats in the Unseelie arsenal for a thousand years."
"Much longer than a mere thousand years," Doyle said.
"But they have retained their threat, their customs, their power."
"The sluagh are what remain of the original Unseelie Court. They were Unseelie before there was such a term. It was not they who joined us, but we who joined them. Though there are very few among us now who remember that, or who will admit to remembering it."
Frost spoke. "I hold with those who say that the sluagh are the essence of the Unseelie Court, and if they leave, we will fade. It is they, and not the demi-fey, who hold our most primitive power."
"No one knows for certain," Doyle said.
"I don't think the Queen would chance finding out," Rhys said.
"No," Doyle said.
"Which means that the demi-fey are in a position similar to the sluagh," I said.
Doyle looked at me. "Explain." The sudden full weight of that dark gaze made me want to squirm, but I resisted. I wasn't a child anymore to be frightened of the tall dark man at my aunt's side.
"The queen would do almost anything to keep the sluagh on her side, and at her beck and call, but wouldn't the same be said for the demi-fey? If she truly fears that their leaving would make the Unseelie decline even faster than they are already, then wouldn't she do almost anything to keep them at her court?"
Doyle stared at me for what seemed a long time, then finally he gave one long blink. "Perhaps." He leaned toward me, clasping his hands on the nearly empty table. "Galen and Frost are correct about one thing. Niceven does not react like another sidhe. She is accustomed to following the commands of another queen, to have, in effect, given her royal authority over to another monarch. We must make her think of you in that way, Meredith."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"We need to remind her in every way that you are Andais's heir."
"I still don't understand."
"When Cel contacts the demi-fey, he is his mother's son. His requests are usually as bloody, or more so than his mother's. But you are asking for healing, for help. That automatically puts us into a position of weakness, for we ask a boon of Niceven and have little power to offer her in return."
"Okay, I understand that, but what can we do about it?"
"Lounge upon the bed with your men. Drape us around you for effect just as the queen would do. It is a way of looking powerful, for Niceven envies the queen her bevy of men."
"Doesn't Niceven get her pick of the demi-fey?"
"No, she had three children by one male, and he is her king. She ca
"I didn't know Niceven had a king," Rhys said.
"Few do. He is king in name only."
The thought wasn't the idle gossip it should have been. Sleeping with all the guards was lovely. But being forced to marry one of them, simply because we made a child... What if the father was someone I didn't respect? The thought of gentle Nicca tied to me forever was a frightening one. He was lovely to look at, but he wasn't powerful enough or strong enough to help me much as king. In fact, he was more likely to end up a victim instead of a help. Which reminded me.
"Is Nicca still working on that bodyguard case?"
"Yes," Doyle said, "he took over from Frost."
"How did the client feel about trading guards in midstream?"
Doyle looked at Frost, who shrugged. "She is in no real danger. She merely wants a sidhe warrior on her arm to show how much a star she is. One sidhe warrior is much like another for her purposes."
"How much of a show do we need to put on for Niceven?" I asked.
"As much as you are comfortable with," he said.
I raised my eyebrows at that and tried to think.
"Don't include me in the show," Galen said. "I don't want to see any of those things, not even from a distance." He'd loaded the dishwasher and turned it on, so that the quiet chug-chug of the machine followed him as he returned to his chair. Apparently, he'd help us plan, as long as he wasn't included in the event.
"That makes it tough. You and Rhys are the only two of this group who really don't mind major flirting in public. Both Frost and Doyle are usually pretty circumspect in public."
"For tonight, I am willing to help," Doyle said.
Frost looked at him. "You would pander in front of the wee ones?" He made it a question.
Doyle shrugged. "I think it is necessary."
"I will be on the bed, as I have been for some of the queen's calls, but I will not pander, not for Niceven."
"That is your choice. But if you will not play the part of Meredith's lover, something you actually are, then do not ruin the show that the rest of us put together. Perhaps you should wait in the living room while we talk to the wee-fey."
Frost narrowed those grey eyes of his. "You held me back today when I would have aided Meredith. Twice you held me back. Now you suggest that I not be in her bed while you play her lover. What's next, Darkness? Will you finally break your fast, and take my night in her bed for truth and not just playacting?"
"I am within my rights to do so."
That made me stare at Doyle. His face was blank, neutral. Had he just said he would share my bed tonight, or was he just arguing with Frost?
Frost stood up, looming over the table. Doyle stayed seated, calmly looking up at the other man. "I think we should let Meredith decide who shares her bed tonight."
"We are not here to make Meredith choose," Doyle said. "We are here to see her with child. The three of you have had three months and her womb is empty. Would you truly deny her a chance to have a child, to be queen, knowing that if Cel succeeds and Meredith fails, he will see her dead?"
Emotions chased over Frost's face too quickly for me to follow them all. Finally, he hung his head. "I would never wish Meredith ill."
I stepped forward and touched his arm. The touch made him look at me. His eyes were filled with such pain, and I realized that Frost was jealous of me. As much as I cared for him, he hadn't earned the right to be jealous of me in that way. Not yet. Though I realized with a start that the thought of never having him in my arms again was a painful one. I couldn't afford the sinking sense of loss any more than he could afford the jealousy.
"Frost... ," I began, I don't know what I would have said, because there was a sound of sharp bells from the bedroom. It was as if someone had taken the delicate sound of silver bells and turned them into alarm bells. The sound sent my pulse racing, and not in a good way. I'd let go of Frost's arm when the sound came. We stood there looking at each other while everyone but Galen and Kitto moved toward the bedroom.