wish your sire might see you now. He would be as proud of you as I am, for we are kin, as your father was knit together from my flesh and bones and so you were from his. You may call on me in times of need. I am loyal to your reign.”
My lips parted, but all I managed was to bob my head in response.
“Long live Princess Thierry,” he bellowed, “champion of House Unseelie, beloved daughter of the Black Dog, wife of the Rook, daughter-in-law of the Morrigan, granddaughter of my heart...”
Struck mute by his recitation, it hit me what he was doing. Here, before these witnesses, he was claiming me. He was warning both courts who my allies were so they knew who they would answer to if I was harmed. The message was clear. Their prince had been murdered, their princess wouldn’t be.
Quick as a rabbit, my heart jumped around in my chest. They’re going to let me live.
Daibhidh’s reflection beamed at me while a somber Liosliath kept his own council.
Swaying on my feet, I let the Huntsman’s meaty hand clasp my shoulder and hold me steady.
“We will relinquish the crown in seven days,” Liosliath granted.
“We will remove Prince Raven’s belongings from the Halls of Winter.” Daibhidh grinned. “It is now your home to do with as you see fit.” He addressed Rook. “No doubt your husband can help smooth your transition to court life. I offer my council to you, Princess, whenever you are in need. I am your humble servant.”
Home. Home was a realm away. My family, my friends, my life—none of it was here.
Rook must have sensed me teetering on the breaking point. He wrapped an arm around me, and I let him support me because my knees had turned to water. His soft lips brushed the shell of my ear.
“Relax,” he whispered. “The worst is over.”
No. My life was over.
His clear voice pierced through the excited murmurings. “The princess does have one request.”
Liosliath’s brow puckered. “We are listening.”
“As overcome as she is by her great fortune, she desires a period of five years during which time she will transition from life in the mortal realm to life here. She wishes to familiarize herself with the intricacies of her new position before she assumes official duties.” He squeezed me tighter against him. “Five years is a blink of time.”
The consuls’ likenesses darkened, and their respective Watchers shifted on their seats.
“We offer you a crown, and you refuse it in favor of living among—among humans?” Hot color boiled in Daibhidh’s cheeks. “You seek to make a mockery of the mercy we have shown you.”
The Huntsman growled at them. “You would rescue her from the hounds and throw her to the wolves?”
“I rescued myself.” The words popped out before I thought to stop them.
“What do you mean?” Liosliath asked the Huntsman, “What are you implying?”
“She was raised as a human by a human.” The Huntsman spread his hands. Point made. “The Southwestern Conclave provided her with a basic education on fae politics as they exist in the mortal realm. Allow her twelve months, a mere year of her centennial reign, as preparation to assume the throne.”
The reflections rippled in contemplation.
“Who do you propose rules during that time?” Liosliath asked at last.
The Huntsman worked his jaw, chewing over his answer for a full minute before he sighed. “I propose Rook be named our Prince Regent and given the power to act on the princess’s behalf during her absence.”
“Absence?” Liosliath and Daibhidh’s voices echoed.
The Huntsman lifted his hand. “I propose she be allowed to continue her education in the mortal realm.” When Liosliath started to argue, Huntsman said, “After her coronation, she will be bound to our realm and expected to leave her old life behind her. She is young, with living mortal relatives. There is also the matter of justice for King Moran. While his killer remains free, we remain ignorant of his reasons for assassinating the king. Until he is punished, the princess may also be in danger.”
“Are you implying that the Conclave and its marshals are more capable of safeguarding our princess than we are?” Daibhidh sneered. “Her infamy is what will protect her. Don’t be a fool.”
“I think his idea has merit.” Liosliath’s expression turned thoughtful. “I second the idea.”
“What?” his counterpart screeched.
While those two hurled insults at one another, the Huntsman edged closer to me and interpreted.
“Consul Liosliath must believe if you’re in the mortal realm that those laws will apply when he