“Must I be alone with him?” I shifted away from Devil, who seemed reluctant to take his hand off my waist.
“He means you no harm, May. He is your grandfather, after all.”
The thought was a strange one, since Oberon did not physically appear to be much older than Tuck or Sissi. But I twisted my hands together in front of me and mumbled, “If you had seen what I’ve seen—what some grandfathers are capable of—you might understand.”
Devil brushed his fingers down my arm. “I would never let you be alone with anyone I thought might hurt you,” he said, and something in his tone actually served to reassure me. I straightened up and turned toward the Bower. Several guards stood outside the entrance, and a few small groups of fay milled around, some still wearing their costumes from the night before. Even without the crowd, however, my legs refused to carry me forward.
“Will they all recognize me now?” I whispered, more to myself than Devil. “Will they know who I am?”
“Most likely,” he answered gently. “Would you like another glamour?”
The idea was sorely tempting, but I put my fingers up again to feel the tips of my ears. Somehow, they were a comfort, a strange reminder of who I really was—not truly an orphan, not an unwanted child, not a burden or a complication or a disaster. I had been wanted, and loved, and treasured. I was a daughter of the Arden, just as much as any of them were. Perhaps more.
“No,” I said firmly. “No, I do not need a glamour.”
Devil smiled and held out his arm.
“After you, then, Mayhem.”
The alcoves along the grand entrance hall were still occupied. Naked bodies draped over one another, some yawning and beginning to shake off the haze of wine and pleasure, while others slept soundly. I tried to avert my eyes when they emerged from behind the curtains, in various states of undress, whispering behind their hands as I walked by. Devil kept several paces back, but I strangely wished he was beside me, if only to block some of the attention. I heard Lyric’s name fly from nearly every mouth, and more fay began to come out as word spread, some even bowing when I passed them.
“Welcome home, my lady,” called one young woman with pink skin and ruby-red eyes, who tossed a handful of crushed flower petals in front of me. The blessing was echoed by everyone lining the walls, and I did my best to nod or smile in reply. Relief washed over me when we reached the entrance to the ballroom and were waved through by more guards.
“Perhaps Ishouldhave had you glamour me,” I breathed, stopping for a moment to compose myself.
“What worries you?” Devil asked with a frown. “Your mother was very much beloved in the Arden.”
“And what if I turn out to be nothing like her? What if I…disappoint them?”
“You do notneedto be like her, May, and you should not tear yourself apart over it. No amount of love is worth your own destruction.”
“Such earnest sentiments from a creature with no heart,” I murmured, searching his eyes.
“Oh, I have been well-trained in the art of feigning sentimentality,” he said with a grin.
I gave a weak laugh, then sucked in my breath and fought back the nerves setting fire to my body. The grassy floor beneath the Bower’s dome was far emptier now. Except for a few scattered golden leaves, there were only a dozen guardsposted along the walls, and several more bunches of fay, talking quietly amongst themselves. These were clearly not stragglers from the revelry, but ministers or advisors of some sort. They were a bit more subtle, but I could still feel their eyes burning into me from across the room. Inside the stone circle, Oberon sat on his throne, apparently holding court. A small group of tree-like creatures with clumps of red mushrooms growing from their shoulders stood before him, and he listened intently as they spoke. His owl-feathered advisor, Simeon, noticed us and approached quickly, but stopped to bow.
“Lady Marina, it is my deepest honor. My name is Simeon, and I am Lord Oberon’s chief consul. He and the others are eager to speak with you. Please, come.” He waved and I followed automatically, with Devil keeping himself a few paces back. We entered the stone circle just as the tree creatures were leaving, and I immediately noticed Titania’s empty throne. Behind it stood her commander, Hippolyta, still wearing a sword and a frown, her massive eagle’s wings tucked in behind her. Simeon led us up to the dais, bowed again, then stood aside.
Oberon leaned forward in his throne and folded his hands. “Marina, I must apologize for last night. For all the time I have had to prepare for that moment, well, I…” He trailed off and sighed, shaking his head. “I hope you can forgive me, and that we can start over.”
“I should not have run,” I replied, my throat stiff with emotion. “You spoke nothing but the truth, which is all you are capable of doing.”
“Still…” Oberon said quietly, his dark eyes flickering over to Devil. “And you, Puck? What have you to say for yourself? Antenor tells me you held a blade to his throat this morning. Perhaps you imagine that my laws of hospitality do not extend to your home.” He nodded toward one side of the circle, and I saw Antenor leaning against one of the massive stones, looking smug.
“He enteredmyhome with a blade already drawn, Lord,” spat Devil. “Perhaps you have too many hounds and can no longer keep them all leashed. Best to put one of us down.” He shot Antenor a glare, but Oberon stood up, shadows swirling around his hands and arms.
“You will hold that tongue or lose it, imp. I’ll not hear insults against my own family in this sacred circle.”
“And I’ll not hear any more petty squabbles amongst you menfolk,” said Hippolyta, stepping out from behind the queen’s throne. Her voice was low and sharp, but her gaze softened when it fell on me. “We must discuss the issue at hand.”
“Perhaps, if my darling wife would deign to join us, the discussion would be far more productive,” Oberon snapped. Disbelief flooded my chest, and I took a step forward without thinking.
“You are all no better than children!” I cried. “How many human lifetimes have you had to unlearn this foolishness? I have half a mind to leave you all to your fate, just to teach you a lesson.” They all stared at me in cowed silence, save for Devil, who let out a snort of amusement.
“My apologies,” said Hippolyta quietly. “And to you, my lord.”
Oberon also murmured something unintelligible and sat back down.
