killed our princes.”
Daibhidh waved a hand. “There are more princes where those came from.” He swept his gaze over me with renewed interest. “Now a princess...that would be unique.”
My jaw would have dropped if I hadn’t clenched it shut.
“A princess,” Liosliath echoed with a grimace.
“An Unseelie princess,” his counterpart confirmed.
“If we allowed her to ascend,” Liosliath argued, “she must replace the king we lost. She must become a Seelie princess if such a title is bestowed, and how can it be? She is neutral, if you recall.”
Again Rook cleared his throat. “What small knowledge I have gleaned from her and her father’s condition leads me to assume that she devoured Raven’s essence prior to his death and the removal of his skin. That means my brother was with Thierry, physically and spiritually, as the Seelie prince died.”
“If she becomes a crown princess,” Liosliath argued, “what of her position in her world?”
My job, my life, my income was all being decided right in front of me like I wasn’t even there.
“I don’t want a crown,” I spoke over them. “I don’t want to rule.”
I had come to love my position with the conclave. I would not be blackmailed into this.
Rook returned to my side and gathered my hands in his. His thumbs rolled across my knuckles. “You won’t have to,” he promised me in a low tone. He then projected his voice for the High Court’s benefit. “My wife is young and modern. She was raised among humans. Thierry doesn’t understand the ways and traditions of Faerie, as evidenced by the fact we are all standing here having this conversation.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed not to be rid of her,” the Huntsman rumbled.
“You can’t comprehend the depths of my gratitude that she survived the ordeal.” He touched my cheek. “A lesser woman would have fallen victim to the hounds. Mine tore the skin from those who dared hunt her and ended their lives for their trespass against her. She is worthy of any crown.”
“As I recall...” Liosliath folded his arms, “...she is not alone in her humble origins. It seems to me that you were one of the Morrigan’s follies among men. Only she chose to raise you alongside her heir after her lord husband learned of your existence and threatened to see her wings clipped permanently. Your origin is as clouded as your bride’s, Rook Morriganson.”
“I lived twelve years among men,” Rook answered. “I have lived centuries among the sidhe.”
Face lit with avarice, Daibhidh asked, “What are you proposing?”
“That I rule in her stead,” he said in a loud, clear voice so steady he must have practiced the line.
My head whipped toward him so fast I got a crick in my neck. From pauper to princess—or was it from fae queen to Rook’s pawn?—in under five minutes. That must break a Faerie dynastic record.
Beware the Rook. I was growing warier by the minute.
Diode snarled under his breath.
“Ha.” The Huntsman tugged at his beard. “What have you done to earn the right to rule?”
“More than my brother ever did.” Rook aimed his next remarks toward the consuls. “My crime was the circumstance of my birth, over which I had no control. I have been a loyalist of House Unseelie. I have sweated and bled and toiled—” his gaze touched on mine, “—and I have lied for them.”
“Be that as it may, you can’t believe even your own people will obey you.” Liosliath frowned. “If you seek to sell us on Thierry’s merits—you have done so. She is worthy of her father’s legacy, but it does you and yours no good to thrust the girl upon a throne she does not want and will not occupy.”
“She is fatigued from her ordeal,” Daibhidh countered. “Once she has recovered, she will see this unprecedented opportunity for the gift it is. Let her head clear before she answers.”
“She is half mortal,” the Huntsman contributed. “She has eaten and slept little since the hunt began.”
“A recession might be the best thing for it.” Liosliath sighed. “We will not reach an agreement lightly or swiftly. We have heard all the testimony from the tribute and her husband we require.” He glanced at the Watcher below him. “The final sequence of events we must view with our own eyes.”
As one, the Watchers stood and crossed to the wall opposite the consul’s images.
“Bring food and wine for them both.” The Huntsman’s lips curved. “Prepare them a room.”
Heat stung my cheeks. Let them think they had made me blush. Anger burns