his body like a slightly tangled cloak.
Rhys turned onto his back -- not to flaunt himself, though he accomplished that, but because he wanted to be able to see the mirror with his good eye.
Nicca stayed propped on his elbow behind me. I sat up in the middle of the two of them. I managed to tug enough sheets out from under everyone so that I was fairly covered. Nudity was casual in the Unseelie Court, but not always in the Seelie Court. Human vanity had been more contagious there. The three of us were placed to receive when Rhys and I realized at the same time that someone had to touch the mirror.
"Shit," he said, then he rolled off the bed touched the mirror, and rolled back into bed very fast, as if we had posed for a picture with the camera set on automatic. When he rolled back onto the sheets, the weight of his body tore the sheet out of my hand and down to my lap. Rhys realized that he now was on top of the covers, not underneath them. We both had a second to choose whether we were going to be struggling with the sheets when the mirror flashed to life, or be calmly posed. We both chose to look comfortable, not harried. Rhys lay full length in front of me, one arm behind his head, the picture of muscular ease. I leaned back against Nicca as if he were a chair back. He curled himself around me from the back, so that his body both cupped and framed me. He had managed to keep just enough cover over his groin so that he was covered.
Dame Rosmerta appeared in the mirror. She was dressed in silk and stiff embroidery, a slightly darker shade of pink today, almost fuchsia. Her dark yellow braids were entwined with pink ribbon that matched her dress exactly. She was all pink and gold and perfect like a doll. Her tricolored gold eyes were bright and clear, as if she'd been up for hours.
Her smile slipped a fraction as she got a good look at us. She opened her mouth, said nothing.
I helped her. "Is there something you wanted, Dame Rosmerta?"
"Ah, yes, yes." She gathered herself visibly, remembering her duty. It seemed to steady her. "King Taranis would like to invite you to a feast in your honor a few days before Yule. We are very sorry for the misunderstanding about the Yule ball. We understand completely that you must, of course, attend the festivities at your own court." She smiled and it was just the right amount of silly ol' us, but we've fixed it now. It might even have been sincere.
I was tired. Nicca and Rhys had begun to routinely share their nights with me. I think it was purely so that they both got two nights in a row, rather than one having any preference over the other; but it meant that my night had been very busy. Since we didn't have to go to work we hadn't worried about the late hours. Now here was Rosmerta looking daisy fresh at eight in the morning. It was discouraging.
Why was the King so insistent on seeing me before Yule? Was it about Maeve? Something else? Why did he want to see me now? He'd never given a damn about seeing me before.
"Dame Rosmerta," I said, and tried not to sound as tired as I felt, "I need to be blunt here, which I know isn't polite, but I need some questions answered before I say yes or no to the feast."
"Of course, Princess," she said, making a slight bow as she said my title.
"Why is my presence so important to the king that he would give a feast in my honor days before Yule? The entire court has been working and planning for the ball for months. The servants and the functionaries must be frantic at the thought of a feast only days before the great event. Why would the king need to see me so badly before Yule?"
Her smile never changed, never wavered. "For that you would have to ask the king himself."
"That would be lovely," I said, "if you would be so kind as to put him on."
That threw her; confusion chased across her pretty face. I think most people would have just accepted that you didn't get to talk directly to the king, but too many important things were afoot to be that polite.
Rosmerta recovered,