This was the first I’d uttered it aloud, what I suspected of my true mother’s fate. I felt a snap in the air, as though speaking my suspicion aloud had waked something in the world that had slumbered deeply. My eyes flew to the Dark Fool, but he did not react at all.
Bess Grieve stared at me, her expression unreadable, and spoke very quietly. “Did she know I would be the cost?”
My lips parted. I wanted to say “No.” Ibelievedthe answer was no. The Mairi Grieve I knew cried out for her child during the long nights of her illness:Oh, where have they taken her? Where has my little Bess gone?Never would she have knowingly left her daughter behind.
But for all my powers, my status as the Queen of Faery, I could not honestly say I knew. So, I pressed my lips together and held my tongue.
Bess’s gaze dropped to the ground, her voice tinged with thorn. “That is what I thought.” So bitter she was, for a maid so young.
But I did not fail to notice the tears at the corner of her eyes.
“The queen lived your life on the other side of the Veil,” Amadan cut in. “You should be honored for the privilege.”
Bess sniffed once and clenched her jaw. “Should I be? I never knew my own mother.” Her gaze flew to me and I could not stand it, I had to look down. “I was raised by ghosts and kept from my family. I waited for my parents to break the spell and banish the changeling in my place. They never did.”
Now it was too late. Mairi Grieve was gone, and she could not return to the house of Eamon Grieve. My doing, whether I intended it or not.
Amadan’s hackles raised, and he surged forth, reaching for Bess. “Do not speak that way to the queen.”
Almost instinctively, my arm shot out to stop him, my fingers emitting a sheer wall of ice. The Fool took a step backward, chin dipped and eyebrows raised.
I pushed it further. “Bymyorder.”
He seethed for a moment, then dropped into a most exaggerated bow. “Do forgive me, Your Majesty.”
My attention returned to Bess. “I am sorry for what you have lost,” I said. There were no words powerful enough for my apology. Only actions would do.
The Dark Fool pulled me to one side. “Your Majesty,” he oozed. “Groveling before a mere mortal is unbecoming a ruler of the fae.”
My eyes shot to True Bess. “There is nothing mere about this mortal.”
Eighteen years she had lived in the Underhill, though the time had not passed as such with her. She’d no parents and, judging from the Dark Fool’s manner, hardly any interest from the high fae at all. But she had taken charge, and made herself a home, unwelcome though she was.
We had more in common than the face we once shared.
Bess narrowed her eyes. “What do you want from me?”
Her words were like a knife in my heart. “I ask nothing from you,” I told her.
She sniffed and looked away.
“No, that isn’t true.” I lifted my chin. “I want you to live a happy life.”
Her laughter came bitter and sharp.
“Fine then,” said the Dark Fool, with an impatient flip of his wrist. “Give her a new gown, build her a castle, send a dozen swains to woo her and we shall be off.”
“I did not ask for your input, Fool.”
He tensed but did not retreat.
Bess pursed her lips.
“Would any of those things make you happy?” I asked her. I highly doubted it. Amadan’s understanding of mortal maidens was purposely shallow.
She shook her head.
“Then what would?”
