“You didn’t object to my coronation!” wailed the false Queen.

  “No, I didn’t,” agreed the Luidaeg. “My sister desired it, and she was a daughter of Titania. It’s often better to let them get their own way, at least in the short term. Arden was too young, Nolan younger still, and I had all faith that one of them would come to find me when they were ready to reclaim their family’s throne. Silence is not endorsement. Sometimes it’s just silence.”

  My gut twisted, and I scowled at the Luidaeg. She’s been a friend for most of the time I’ve known her, but she has a tendency to think in almost geological terms. All the damage the false Queen had done had been in service of letting Evening get her own way. People died because of the false Queen’s behavior! I nearly died! Tybalt did die—he just got better, a trick royal Cait Sidhe can occasionally pull off. Doesn’t mean I liked it.

  “The throne is mine,” said the false Queen.

  “No,” said the Luidaeg. “The throne was always Arden’s. You just borrowed it for a little while.”

  “Let the court record show that the Windermere line was also granted the throne by one among the First, and that as the Luidaeg is here with us tonight, her claim shall be deemed superior,” said Arden, sounding faintly choked. “Should the Lady of Roses wish to appear before us, we would be willing to reopen this discussion.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” said the Luidaeg.

  Arden paled, but didn’t reply.

  “Does the accused wish to say anything in her defense?” she asked, looking at the false Queen.

  “Only that I acted to protect the Mists from hostile influences; I served as a Queen, even if you now deem me illegitimate, and I make no apologies for the things I did to preserve our way of life.” The false Queen didn’t waver as she addressed Arden, only tipped her chin defiantly upward and looked at her through thick white lashes, looking every inch the imperious monarch scolding a recalcitrant child.

  Arden inhaled audibly through her nose, then exhaled again and turned to face the court. “If you wish to speak against the false Queen, please approach the dais.”

  FOUR

  PEOPLE WANTED TO SPEAK against the false Queen. More people than I would have dreamed possible wanted to speak against her. I spotted Magdaleana, the Librarian from the Library of Stars, among the throng waiting to make their points, and a few courtiers in the livery of the Kingdom of Silences stood not far behind her. Of course the Kingdom of Silences had sent an envoy, after what she’d done to them—and to their ruling family.

  The testimonies to her cruelty went on and on. People were treating this as an airing of their grievances, and boy did they have a lot of grievances to air. Tybalt’s arms tightened around me.

  “I will have to say my piece, after her transgressions against my Court and against you,” he said. “But I think your presence speaks as much as any words you might offer.”

  “Why, Tybalt, are you saying that I can go sit down if I want to?”

  He grimaced but nodded. “If your accounting of anything before her creation is needed, May can speak in your stead,” he said. “I would much prefer you rest your feet and perhaps eat something, rather than standing here for what seems to be an unending recitation of wrongs.”

  “Sadly, Arden’s a little busy right now,” I said. “And I don’t know how to get back to the parlor where we stopped off between the bathroom and here.”

  Tybalt looked around, arms still tight around me, and I heard his small, pleased exhale. “I adore you,” he murmured, letting go of my waist and taking my hand, walking around to face me directly. “You are all my trials and all my treasure, wrapped into a single complicated mess.”

  I eyed him. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I have spotted someone to whom I can trust your safety, if only for a short time,” he said. He let go of my hand, and I turned to follow the angle of his gaze. I nearly laughed when I saw who he was looking at.

  Simon Torquill was making his way toward us.

  Like his brother, my liege, he was redhaired and golden-eyed, with surprisingly freckle-free skin, given his fair complexion. His ears were sharply pointed, and his features were classically strong, as if he were a work of art that had decided to come to life and walk around for a while. Daoine Sidhe are like that. They specialize in the sort of beauty that can stop a heart, or lift it up, depending on how it’s worn.

  Simon wore his beauty like an apology, like he wasn’t entirely sure where he’d found it, but would be more than happy to return it if given the opportunity. Clothing-wise, he was in breeches and a doublet over a white shirt, with the arms of Saltmist stitched above his heart. He smiled hesitantly when he saw me.

  There was nothing hesitant about my answering smile. “Fa—Simon!” I exclaimed, starting toward him.

  He startled but only slightly, catching himself before he could commit fully to the gesture. “October,” he said, voice warm and reserved at the same time, like he was holding himself back.

  Screw that. Simon and I had been building a relationship before Titania’s enchantment, but he had still been the monster under my bed, even as I’d tried hard to forgive what he’d done. During the enchantment, he’d been my father, beloved and trusted above all others, even my mother. I had four months of earnest, unquestioning love between me and the pains of our past, and I wasn’t in any hurry to let those go. It wasn’t betraying my human father to let myself love Simon. It wasn’t letting Titania win.

  It was just letting us both be happy, and we deserved it.

  I reached Simon and grabbed his hands in my own, holding them tightly so that he couldn’t easily pull away. “Are you here to testify?”

  “I am,” he replied. “But as there’s quite a queue in front of me, it may be some time before I can step forward. It’s … very nice to see you, my dear.” His eyes flicked to the undeniable swell of my midsection, tracing the shape of my stomach with a look.

  I smiled indulgently when he looked up again. “You knew I was pregnant when you left for the Undersea,” I said. “Is it really a surprise that I’ve gotten more pregnant while you were busy?”

  “No,” he admitted. “But you weren’t showing before, and now, it seems as if you could give birth at any moment.”

  Tybalt shot us both an alarmed look.

  I shook my head, still smiling. “Nope. Baby’s still baking, and I’m not having any pains that might progress into labor. I can’t be absolutely certain, but I think we’re good for now.”

  “Do you have a birth plan?”

  For a moment I paused, savoring the strangeness of being asked that question by Simon Torquill—a man I would have once sworn wanted to see me dead—in front of my husband, the King of Cats. Life has a way of doing whatever the hell it wants, and the rest of us just need to do our best to keep up. “I do,” I said. “I’d rather not go into it while the Queen is trying to conduct the sentencing of her predecessor, but I have one.”

  “I was hoping you might be able to escort October to a lounge where she can rest her feet and have something small to eat,” said Tybalt. “I’ll come to join you as soon as I’ve given my testimony.”

  “I would be honored,” said Simon, true gratitude shining in his eyes as he turned and offered me his arm. I took it, and he led me toward another of those open hallways, moving slow and careful in deference to my condition. Tybalt stayed behind, and it was jarring how strange that felt, to have him allow me to walk away without trying to follow.

  “We haven’t seen you in a while,” I said, as we walked.

  “No,” he agreed. “I’ve been … otherwise occupied.”

  “Is something going on in the Undersea? August’s been awfully quiet about how things are in Saltmist when she’s come to visit, and we haven’t seen you, Patrick, or Dianda on the surface since Titania’s enchantment broke.”

  “Things are complicated at the moment,” said Simon, as we passed from the noise of the main room to the quiet of the hall. “My lady wife dislikes allowing me to leave her sight, and I can’t honestly blame her for that. If not for the importance of these proceedings, she would have asked that I remain at home with her and Patrick.”

  I blinked. “Simon, is Dianda holding you captive in the Undersea?”

  He blinked back, then barked laughter, moving smoothly to open a door to another small parlor, near identical to the one where I’d met with Arden. The only difference: the table in this parlor was empty, which was to be expected, but still disappointing.

  “No,” he said, reassuringly. “Not in the slightest. There are simply matters which require my attention at home in Saltmist, and after a routine trip to land resulted in both my near death and a four-month entrapment at Titania’s hands, well. She’s a little anxious about my safety.”

  Put like that, I couldn’t blame her, any more than I could blame Tybalt. Still, I had to make one more attempt. “She and Tybalt should form a club. And she lets August leave.”

  “August is her stepdaughter, not her husband,” he said, shutting the door behind me. “August also has a stronger aversion to being kept than I do. She yearns for freedom. I want only for security and a place where I can be truly needed.” He turned to re-take my arm and guide me to a chair. “Saltmist affords me both these things.”

  I looked into his face and saw no deception there, only the honest weariness of a man who’d gone too long looking for a place where he could feel safe and like his welcome wasn’t somehow conditional. “Well, we’ve missed you,” I said.

  His smile was surprised and clearly involuntary. “Why, October, I have missed you too.”

  He picked up a small bell resting on the edge of the table and rang it, only once. The sound was sweet and clean, silver against glass. A bare second later the door opened, and several servers entered the room, setting plates and platters on the empty table before leaving again, none of them saying a word.

  I looked at Simon. I looked at the food. “I think I love you,” I informed him.

  His smile turned wavery around the edges, like he was barely managing to hold it in place. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear from you,” he said. And then he was crying, and I was crying, and while there are many things about pregnancy that were not my favorite, the hormonal crying was definitely right up there at the top of the list.

  Fortunately, I got myself under control before Tybalt could come to join us and this could turn from a sweet family moment into the sort of terrible misunderstanding that got people hurt. I assembled myself a plate while Simon wiped his eyes, then sat back down and looked at him.

  “Simon,” I said. “When you worked for … who you used to work for, did she ever have you dealing in artifacts?”

  “Oh, quite regularly,” he replied. “She believed items of power crafted by fae hands belonged in her hands and hers alone, unless one of her favored pets needed them for one purpose or another. She gave a few to Oleander, a few to her puppet queen, but the bulk of what she sent me to retrieve she kept for herself, adding it to her hoard like a storybook dragon. I have little doubt that her riches exceeded those of the High Kingdoms.”

  I nodded slowly. “Did she keep those artifacts here in the Mists?”

  “She did.” He looked at me with grave eyes. “Most of what she’d swindled, stolen, and sought for was recovered after she fell and Arden rose, finding its way into the kingdom’s coffers. Why do you ask me these things?”

  “Because the royal vaults were looted during the enchantment, and now Queen Windermere needs me to find what’s been lost. How dangerous are we talking here?”

  Simon blinked, apparently taken aback. “I can’t believe she would order you to endanger yourself or your child when you’re so close to your time.”

  “She says she doesn’t want me to do anything that would risk our safety, but I don’t think my husband will see it that way.” That was quite probably the understatement of the century. Tybalt was going to see this as a betrayal.

  “You can’t refuse her; she’s your queen,” said Simon, voice going hollow.

  “I know,” I said. “That’s why I’m trying to learn more about what I might be walking into. And you know I’d refuse, queen or not, if I thought there was any real risk to the baby, right? But I’m not sure how to make Tybalt understand that I need to do this if there’s any way I can manage it. Especially since…” I trailed off. It felt new and a little strange to be confiding in Simon, but a lifetime of memories told me it was the most natural thing in the world.

  He watched me with loving, infinite patience, and I found myself continuing: “Even though I know it’s going to make him unhappy, I’m looking forward to having something I can’t dodge doing. I understand why Tybalt’s so protective right now, but I’m about to start climbing the walls.”

  Simon chuckled. “Ah, yes. That’s a familiar sentiment. Why—” He cut himself off.

  I frowned, cocking my head and looking at him carefully. “Simon? What aren’t you saying?”

  “Nothing. Just remembering how when Amy was pregnant, she was unable to stomach the taste of blood,” he said. “It turned her stomach dreadfully sour, and as a consequence, her magic was all but unavailable to her during that time.”

  “That must have been annoying for her.”

  “So much so that when August was born, she swore she would never carry another child. That was part of why you were such a surprise to me.” Simon sipped his drink. “It seemed impossible that she would have voluntarily chosen another pregnancy.”

  “I’m not entirely sure why she did,” I admitted. “She didn’t want me to be part of Faerie, and she did her best to hide me until she’d turned me human enough to evade the Choice.”

  “Then I suppose I owe my brother a debt of gratitude for finding you before she could achieve her ends. I can no longer imagine a world without you in it.” He looked at me, pride bright in his eyes. “You are one of the best things I’ve ever had a part in.”

  “I share the sentiment, sort of father-of-mine,” I said, relaxing now that we were discussing subjects less fraught than my work for the queen. “You said things were complicated in Saltmist. How’s Dianda doing? Are the three of you getting along all right?”

  Simon’s cheeks reddened. “We’re getting along marvelously well. Their love brightens my nights and eases my days,” he said. “Our love is not the complication. But Dianda isn’t currently able to swim as far as she would like, and in the Undersea, that can be taken as a weakness. Patrick stays with her at all times, to be sure she doesn’t injure herself in her eagerness to prove her continued fitness to rule. She’d prefer I do the same, but understands that unless I’m willing to surrender all ties to the land, when my queen calls, I answer.”

  I blinked. What could possibly cause one of the most terrifying women I knew—and I knew a lot of terrifying women—to be worried about admitting weakness?

  I glanced down at my own swollen midsection, then gave Simon a sharp look. Pregnancies are rare in Faerie when compared to the mortal world, but they seem to come in clusters, like the world wants to be sure the children we sometimes get preoccupied with making will have people they can play with, peers they can grow up alongside, and not be dropped into a world of eternal adults so much older than they are that nothing will ever make sense.

  “Simon,” I asked, in a careful tone, “is Dianda pregnant?”

  He looked at me, eyes wide and expression guilty.

  I frowned. “Why didn’t August tell us?”

  “It’s not common in the Undersea to tell people when you’re expecting,” he said. “To be pregnant is to be vulnerable, and more than that, not every pregnancy is successful. Do you really want to hand a weapon as well-honed as a parent’s grief to your enemies, when you live surrounded by them on all sides?”

  “But we’re not enemies of Saltmist,” I argued. “Dianda married you, and you’re legally my father. In the mortal world, that would make her my stepmother. You normally tell your stepkids when you’re making them a sibling.”

  “Even so, I’m expected to hold to the customs of the demesne where I’m dwelling,” said Simon. “My lady is going to be quite cross with me when she finds out you know.”

  “I’m not going to take out a newspaper ad or anything like that.”

  Simon’s lips quirked in a smile. “I think that’s a bit old-fashioned, dear. Haven’t you heard that print is dead?”

  “You don’t get to tell me what’s old-fashioned, old man,” I replied, and grinned. “Seriously, though. Congratulations. That baby is so lucky to have you as a father.”

  “I’m honored that you would think so, but…”

  “No buts,” I said, shaking my head. “You were never my father by blood, but you were still the best father I could have asked for, even in an enchantment that had been intended to make me miserable. Titania was trying to give you paradise, and what she gave you was the opportunity to raise your daughters with patience and love. That baby is going to get for real what I only got through magic, and I am so happy for them.”

  Simon looked like he was on the verge of breaking down in tears again, and moved to hug me even as a portal appeared in the air off to the side and Nolan Windermere stepped through, accompanied by the smell of redwood sap and new-picked blackberries. He barely spared me a nod before focusing on Simon.

  “Consort Lorden, Arden needs you,” he said.

  “Pardon?” replied Simon, blinking away his tears.

  “Arden? My older sister? Currently in charge of the kingdom we’re all chilling in? She’s ready for your oh-so-scintillating testimony against the imposter who stole our family’s throne.” He flashed me a quick, sidelong smile. “She’s agreed to speak with October here at the end of the court period, when it can be as non-stressful as possible.”