“That is not possible,” Andais said.
“You have seen it yourself, Queen Andais,” Cathbodua said. “She brought the gardens of the Unseelie Court back to life. Faerie is alive and spreading for the first time in over a thousand years.”
Doyle spoke then. “The night itself must have told you that faerie is alive again.”
“My power has whispered rumors to me,” she said, and her voice was growing calmer. That could be a good thing or a bad thing; one can never tell with psychopaths.
“Then you know that faerie has come to the Western Lands and we are no longer exiles, but pioneers on the frontier of new fairylands,” Doyle said.
“I cannot let anyone defy me like this, Darkness; you know that I am only as powerful as my threat.”
“I am sorry for that, my queen.”
“I must call one home and make his punishment terrible enough to prevent any others from joining your quiet rebellion.”
“I do not know what to say to that, my queen; it is almost reasonable, and for you very reasonable.”
“Send Usna to me, and I will leave the rest in place,” she said.
I watched Usna reach out and take Cathbodua’s hand. I was about to say something in their defense, but she spoke first. “I am pregnant with Usna’s child.”
“You are lying to save him,” Andais said, voice certain.
“The little stick says I am with child, and the only man I have lain with is Usna.”
“Little stick, what little stick can tell you you are pregnant?”
I said, “Cathbodua, do you mean a home pregnancy test?”
She looked behind to find me, and nodded.
“When did you find out?” I asked.
“Just before this meeting.”
I’d had enough. I stepped forward with Galen’s hand in mine. The Red Caps and sidhe in front of us glanced at each other, and then the sidhe looked to Doyle, and the Red Caps looked to me. Whatever they saw on both our faces, it made them move aside so we could come forward and face Andais.
“We have another fertile couple among the sidhe; it is something to celebrate, Aunt Andais, not punish.”
She stared at me, and there was a look on her face that I couldn’t understand, but it looked almost pained. On anyone else, I might have said it looked afraid, but Andais feared no one, least of all me.
“It is love that has made them fertile,” Galen said. I glanced up at him, but he looked only at the queen. He looked handsome, commanding standing there, as if something had stripped away the last bits of childhood and brought him into the man he was always meant to be.
“The crow and the cat do not love each other; it is lust that has made a child.” Her voice was thick with disdain.
“I didn’t mean their love for one another, but Meredith’s love for them.”
“Are you saying they, too, are her lovers? Is no one safe from your lusts, Meredith?”
Rhys stepped forward. “Meredith loves them as a ruler is supposed to love her subjects.”
“You cannot rule by love,” she said, and her beautiful face was creased with angry lines, as if the monster inside her were starting to peer out.
Galen said, “But they oathed themselves to Meredith because she has shown them love and caring, the way Prince Essus did to his guards.”
“Do not wave my brother’s memory at me and think it will make me relent. Meredith has brought it up too often of late.”
Doyle came to stand on the other side of Galen. “Prince Essus stood between you and those you would harm more than once. I don’t think any of us understood what a good and strong influence he was on you until we lost him.”
“I would allow Essus liberties that no one else dared.”
“You loved your brother,” Doyle said.
“Yes, yes, I loved my brother, but he is dead and gone.”
“But his daughter stands before you; his grandchildren are in the other room waiting to see their great-aunt Andais. Meredith is truly NicEssus, the daughter of Essus, for she has shown the same nobility, kindness, intelligence, and love that he did. He would have made a fine and generous king.”
Her eyes were wide, and I realized that the shine in them now wasn’t magic, but unshed tears. “But for a few years of time he would have been eldest and king.”
“Yes, King Essus,” Doyle said.
One lone tear trailed from her eye. “You have made me cry twice, Meredith, daughter of my brother, mother of my nieces and nephew, bringer of life to the sidhe, creator of new fairylands, and they tell me you do all this by love. Is that true, niece of mine? Are you all sunshine and love? Are you all Seelie sidhe and there is none of the Unseelie’s blackness inside you?”
“I do my best to rule through fairness and love, but I am also the wielder of flesh and blood; those are not Seelie powers, my queen.”
“I saw what your hand of blood can do when you killed my son.”
“I did not flinch when Cel tried to kill me; that was my father’s mistake. If he had not loved Cel, he would not have hesitated in his own defense and my father would be here to see his grandchildren.”
“Do you not think I have thought of that, Meredith, since I learned of my son’s treachery?”
“You ask if I am all sunshine and love, and I tell you this, aunt, I do not rule by love and fairness alone.”
“What then, kindness?” She made it an insult.
“Ruthlessness. I am more ruthless than my father. You can take credit for that, Aunt Andais, for you allowed sidhe after sidhe to challenge me to duels when I had no magic to defend myself. I had to become ruthless to survive, because you would not protect me. You would not acknowledge that the duels were attempts to assassinate me, attempts done either on Cel’s orders or to curry favor from him. If you had only reached out to me, protected me, if not for myself, then for your brother’s memory, but you did not. Essus taught me kindness, honor, love, fairness, justice, but you, dear aunt, you taught me ruthlessness—and hate.”