"Get up, and go stand somewhere farther away from me."
Doyle told him to go to the other end of the hallway, and he went, without another word, though the starbursts in his eyes were glittering with his rage.
"I do not agree with Onilwyn," Amatheon said, "not completely, but are you truly going to bring in the human police?"
I nodded.
"The queen will not like it."
"No, she won't."
"Why would you risk her anger, Princess?" He seemed to be truly puzzled by that. "I would not risk her anger again for anything, or anyone. Not even my honor."
He had been one of the sidhe who had made my childhood hellish, but lately I'd seen another side to Amatheon. A side that was frightened, and vulnerable, and helpless. I always had trouble hating people who showed me they could feel pain, too. "Beatrice was my friend, but more than that she was one of my people. To rule a people is to protect them. I want whoever did this. I want them caught and I want them punished. I want to stop them from doing it to anyone else. The reporter was our guest, and to kill him like this is an insult to the honor of the court itself."
"You don't care about the honor of the court," he said, and I watched him struggle to understand me.
"No, not really."
He swallowed hard enough for me to hear it. "There is no one's death that I fear, not even my own, enough to bring the human policemen down into our home."
"Why do you fear the police?"
"I do not fear them. I fear the queen's anger at inviting them in."
"No one gets to kill people I have sworn to protect, Amatheon, no one."
"You are not sworn, not yet. You have taken no oath for this court, you sit on no throne."
"If I do not do my utmost to solve these deaths, to protect everyone in this sithen, from greatest to least, then I do not deserve to sit on any throne."
"You are mad," he said, and his eyes were very wide. "The queen will kill you for this."
I glanced back at Beatrice's body, and I thought of another body so many years ago. The only reason she hadn't hidden my father's body from the press is that they found him first. Miles away from the faerie mounds, cut to pieces. They found him and took pictures of him. Not only were his bodyguards too late to save his life, they were too late to save his dignity, or my horror.
The police had done some investigating because he was killed off our lands, but no one had helped them. They had not been allowed inside any of the faerie mounds. They had been forbidden to question anyone. They had been stopped before they began because the queen was convinced we would find who had done this terrible thing, but we never did.
"I will remind my aunt what she said when my father, her brother, was murdered."
"What did she say?" he asked.
It was Doyle who answered, "That we would find who had killed Prince Essus, that the humans would only hinder us in our search."
I looked at him, and he met my gaze. "This time I will say to her that the humans have things the sidhe cannot hide from. That the only reason to keep the police out is if she does not want these murders solved."
"Merry," Rhys said, "I'd put it a different away, if I were telling her." He looked a little pale himself.
I shook my head. "But you aren't princess, Rhys, I am."
He smiled, still pale. "I don't know, I think I'd look cute in a tiara."
I laughed, I couldn't help it. I hugged him then. "You'd look adorable."
He hugged me back. "You will discuss this with the queen before telling the press or contacting the police, right?"
"Yes, and just the police. We're going to try to get the press out of here first."
He hugged me tighter. "Thank the Consort."