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“He was travelling,” Presius hastily said, shooting his brother a threatening look. “Just travelling, finding himself—”
“I heard he went into human politics,” someone piped up from the side of the room.
“I heard it was something called pornography,” someone else called. “Where people give him money for fucking in front of them for their entertainment.”
There was a gasp from the crowd. “How scandalous!”
“Like, on a stage, or…?” someone murmured nearby.
“That’s appalling!” another fae called. “What did you call it again? What was it? Just so I make sure to never come across it when I venture to the human world…”
Crossbody flushed. “I don’t—”
“It is nothing of the sort,” the queen barked, looking furious that all these rumours had been swirling behind her back for years, when she’d been so sure she had complete control of the situation. “As Presius said, he simply spent some time travelling—”
“I don’t think so, bitch!” A new voice suddenly rang out, somehow wavering and booming at the same time, as the doors were thrown open.
Everyone turned to look, squinting against the sunlight streaming into the room. After a fairly lengthy pause, a small figure came into view, escorted by a huge, hulking guy with a bald head.
There was an awkward silence that stretched for a bit too long, which kind of ruined the big reveal, as Ethel—Freddie’s mimi, their Grand-mère Lézard and all-around elderly party animal badass—slowly shuffled into the room in her pink and purple floral dress and sensible slip-on shoes.
She finally stopped, patted her companion’s hand, and looked at the queen at the other end of the room. A wide, sinister smile stretched her wrinkly little face.
“I don’t think so, bitch,” she repeated.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Ethel vs. Queen Galantha
Vince
“What?” The queen looked more confused than anything else. “Who are you? You don’t think what? What does that even mean?”
“Timing’s a little off, Ethel,” I muttered to myself as the tiny old lady shuffled deeper into the room.
Behind her, about two dozen more elderly women—some hunched with age, some wiry and keen-eyed, some still actually knitting—filed into the room, looking around with interest and murmuring to each other with their wavering voices like they were at an art gallery. One took a crumpled tissue out of her purse and blew her nose loudly. Another produced a tin of hard butterscotch candies and began offering them around. There was one near the back, a tiny little thing with a puff of blue-white hair and knobbly knuckles, who didn’t stop knitting or even glance up for a second. There was an intense—almost unnervingly intense—look of concentration on her face, like she was determine to finish the wool hat she was making before shit went down.
Freddie led the mob of old ladies, immediately scanning the crowd and giving me a nod when he spotted me. I suppressed my grin, nodding back and darting a look at the queen to gauge her reaction. She was staring at the group of elderly ladies with an almost comically unimpressed look on her face. Beside her, Crossbody was sagging with relief.
There was a moment of quiet confusion in the room as the queen’s guards hesitantly stepped forward, then back again, not sure whether to treat the cluster of little old ladies as a potential threat to their queen or not. Then one awkwardly cleared his throat and gestured, saying something to the others in another language—but his tone was clearly resigned—before they all half-heartedly drew their weapons and surrounded Galantha. Several were suppressing amused smiles. A few others looked bored.
Crossbody took the opportunity to hurriedly lead Ianthe over to me so they were both safely away from the queen and the imminent chaos that these elderly women were sure to cause.
“You okay?” I muttered, grabbing his hand and giving it a brief squeeze. “You did great.”
“So you’re the one,” Ianthe murmured, peering around Crossbody to give me a tiny smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“Uh.” I wasn’t sure what she meant, but now wasn’t the time to ask, so I just smiled back. “Nice to meet you too. Sorry about all this.”
“Oh no, it’s fine.” Her voice was hushed but cheerful. “I’m fully on board. And very grateful that Elvis filled me in beforehand.”
“Who are you?” Queen Galantha said again to Ethel, peering over a guard’s head to scowl at her. “How did you get in here?”
Ethel shrugged. “Just know the right people in the right places.”
The queen’s nostrils flared, but she looked more irritated than intimidated. “This is utterly ridiculous. How dare you come into my palace—no, my queendom—without my permi—”
“I do what I want, lady,” Ethel declared. “You’re not the queen of anything outside of this little patch of land. Which means you got no business coming into my turf, in my world, and threatening the good citizens who live there.”
