Page 132 of Triumph at Pemberley

Lady Anne's arms shook as she took the tiny form, staring down into her face. Then she held her tightly to her body. “I... I do not know what to say.”

“I ask only that you call her by a different name than Georgiana. I have grown accustomed to thinking of myself by that name.” The Faerie Queen sounded indifferent. “In the future, I hope you will be kinder to those who are helpless before you.” She turned away, a clear dismissal.

Darcy stared at his mother – and his baby sister. It was impossible, all these years after his father's death. This infant could never replace the sister he was losing, but it was another new future.

This was going to take time to get used to.

Frederica put her arm around Lady Anne and led her away from the High Queen by the Dragon Stone.

Chapter 49

Once again Elizabeth tried to reach Cerridwen, but her dragon’s mental wall was still up. Surely the news of the Wicked King’s death and the High Queen’s request were urgent enough to try to break through it. Even if astonishing events kept happening in front of her.

She used her Talent to batter at Cerridwen’s walls and silently shouted, The Wicked King is dead. The Wicked King is dead!

Suddenly the wall crumbled under her assault, and her dragon was there. What? How can that be?

Georgiana and Darcy killed him. The prophecy was true.

Disbelief flowed down her bond, slowly replaced by a delirious excitement. Are you certain he is dead? It may be a trick. I still feel royal fae power beckoning me.

Elizabeth tried to slow her spinning brain enough to provide a more coherent tale of the death of the Wicked King and how Georgiana had taken his place, but it turned into a series of images, including the lesser fae dancing around the clearing. She added in the promises the High Queen had made.

Uncertainty flowed down their bond, and then Cerridwen’s resolve stiffened. I will come then, out of respect for the music she once created, but I will warn the others to stay away until we know more.

That was all, which was fortunate since Elizabeth was distracted by the events in front of her. Her mouth dropped open at the return of Lady Anne’s daughter. Another baby at Pemberley! One who might begin to heal her mother-in-law’s great grief.

Beside her, Mrs. Sanford asked quietly, “Should I go with her to help with the baby, or would she find that impertinent?”

Elizabeth studied her. How would Lady Anne manage a newborn with no preparation? “I think she would be grateful for assistance. Would you tell Jenny’s wetnurse to help her?” If that poor baby was not already hungry, she would be soon, and Lady Anne would have no milk to feed her. Thank heavens they already had a nursery set up!

Mrs. Sanford nodded and slipped away.

Making preparations for William’s new baby sister would have to be a priority once matters settled here. If they ever were.

She sensed her dragon’s approach and announced, “Cerridwen is coming. Make room for her.”

Gradually the mortals shifted away. The High Queen stood her ground, though.

Which meant Cerridwen landed only a few feet away from the High Queen of Faerie.

Elizabeth could feel her dragon’s fear, yet Cerridwen covered it well, speaking boldly. “Your Glorious Majesty.”

The High Queen inclined her head. “Cerridwen the Far-Sighted, I wish you to carry a message to your Nest, and thence to all the dragons of the world.” She spread her arms wide. “There will be no more forced servitude in Faerie.” Her statement sounded like a ringing bell, like a promise to the world.

A powerful wave of fae magic washed past Elizabeth, making her skin prickle in goosebumps.

The guards circling behind her gasped audibly as their purple and silver belts of enslavement flew off. Then, almost as one, they fell to their knees, several with sudden tears pouring down their faces.

The queen waved them to rise. “The dragons who were enslaved by him who came before me will also be free to follow their own hearts.”

One of the guards raised his sword high. “All hail Her Most Glorious Majesty!” His voice shook.

The cry resounded from every fae throat.

Cerridwen's aura of shock rolled over the clearing like a wave. “Can this be true?”

“I can no longer lie. I intend to begin a new era in Faerie, one where amity will be rewarded. Using dragons as a weapon of war is a cruelty I will not indulge.”