My brows twitched but I said nothing. Why would Cethlen care if she served bird?
“What if she refuses?” I couldn’t help but ask.
The Brid gave a delicate snort. “She won’t. She knows just how weak she would appear if she did.”
“Isn’t it dangerous to have them here?” I didn’t voice what I really wanted to. Would the Carlin try to take me?
The Brid snorted. “Dangerous? No. She’s not foolish enough to try anything while outnumbered and completely surrounded by seelie. Not that she could everhurtme, dear.”
I wasn’t thinking about her hurting the Brid. I was thinking about her hurting me. Again. But the Brid didn’t seem to even consider that.
I jumped only slightly when she rang the bell that was always in front of her to summon staff. A fae appeared almost immediately, bowing as they came to a stop. Their long, dark brown braid swung over their shoulder with the movement.
“Issue a formal invitation to the Unseelie Court for dinner,” the Brid drawled. “The Carlin and her sons. Tomorrow night.”
I glanced up to see her grinning widely at me.
“My darling son will welcome them to his new court.”
I paced the tiny stone-walled garden, shifting uncomfortably in my clothes.
I’d found this place after a few days at the palace, and it was the only part of the court where I felt even marginally comfortable because it was always deserted. No one ever came here, and the maze of stone walls that sectioned off the grounds made me feel safer. Like I could get away if I needed to.
It was a sprawling rose garden, every different colour and size of rose growing up trellising nailed to the walls, interspersed with low, ground-covering bushes with fragrant flowers. It smelled almost cloyingly sweet, especially in the growing spring warmth, but I needed to be truly alone for a few minutes. Away from the palace and the Brid and her staff.
The Carlin was going to arrive at any minute. I knew I had to go and join the Brid in the banquet hall, but I continued to pace until I heard the stampede of hooves. Tugging on my dark green shirt—wishing I didn’t have to have it tucked in—I made my way to the banquet hall to be there when they arrived.
“Where have you been?” the Brid snarled angrily, before schooling her features into a soft smile with visible effort. “My dear, it would have been such a shame if you weren’t here to greet them.”
I said nothing, going to stand to the right of the Brid’s throne as she settled in it. It was made of petrified wood, dark grey and brown with iridescent colours gleaming on the carved seat and back. The King of Boars was already standing on her left, and I could feel his eyes on me as I took my place.
Two long stone tables had been set out in the hall. It looked like the two courts wouldn’t actually be eatingtogether. Only three places were set on the one closest to the Brid’s throne. Just me, her and her King of Boars. There was a wide silver trough in his place, gleaming with inlaid jewels.
Food had already been laid out along the edges of the hall. Platters of steaming fish dotted with slices of lemon, lamb chops smothered in mint sauce, a rich venison stew that I now knew was a taunt to the Carlin—the unseelie revered deer. There were wide, shallow bowls piled with roasted bird wings and several whole roasted chickens surrounded by carrots and potatoes.
Fresh fruit was piled high in ornately carved wooden bowls—peaches, strawberries, apricots, cherries and balled melon dotted with fresh mint leaves. There was a huge glass dish containing a twenty-layer trifle in bright colours interspersed with fresh cream.
Seelie Folk milled around already—nobles and courtiers who the Brid kept the palace filled with for her entertainment and to hear their gossip. It was a marked difference to the cold emptiness of the Carlin’s court, and I wasn’t sure which I hated more.
Most noble Folk were tall and willowy, with long, sweeping hair in earth tones tied up in intricate braids. Server Folk darted between them, heaving in platters of food, huge carafes of sparkling seelie wine and barrels of ale. I knew the names of some of them now. Broons were the squat male fae with beards who cooked the food in the palace. Clurcans were Folk who looked like withered old men, with skinny arms and legs. They brewed the ale and made the wine.
I despised the weak clench of fear my stomach gave when the Carlin swept into the room in a long white dress, visibly trying to look carefree—like she wasn’t seething with cold fury at the sight of me. But her one eye locked onto me immediately, lip pulling up to show her bronze teeth in a snarl.
“Queen of Winter,” the Brid drawled from beside me, not rising from her throne. “So pleased you could join us for dinner. And with your darling sons too.”
The Carlin’s three sons were behind her, along with a handful of guards and a fae with black hair and black eyes. There was a long blade at his hip, and I guessed he was the Carlin’s personal guard. Her protector.
I could sense him watching me, but I was too tense to look at any of them for long. I turned my gaze to the Folk watching at the sides of the hall, then clenched my teeth, angry at myself for displaying such weakness.
But I felt weak when I looked back at the Carlin. All my grand plans to kill her and her sons—they seemed so impossible now as she stood opposite me in this room, her cold, dead eye fixed on me and the murderous anger twisting her cruel features. I’d been brash and stupid, strolling into the Midsith where I knew she couldn’t hurt me. Where I knew I was untouchable.
She was the Unseelie Queen for a reason, just like the Brid was Seelie Ruler for others. They were unfathomably powerful. Stronger than I could ever be.
“And now my son is here with me too,” the Brid continued with a smirk in her voice. “Full fae. His power intact. My blood still running through his veins. It seems all your plans have crumbled to ashes, haven’t they?”
“You invited me here to taunt me?” the Carlin snarled, her eye still fixed on me. “You and your little half-breed son. Do you think I am impressed? He may be full fae, but he will always have dirty mortal blood in his veins, tainting yourseelie ichor.”
She sneered the last words, then finally let her gaze slide to the Brid.