A Stroke Of Midnight - By Laurell K. Hamilton Page 0,34

safe. When Mistral and the others came, he put them to guard the hallway."

"That was rashly done," Frost said.

"Knowing Rhys, he got Mistral's oath," Usna said, "and once you have Mistral's oath, you have his honor. He would not break it, not for all the joys of the Summerlands."

Doyle gave one sharp nod. "I trust Mistral's honor as I do my own." He looked at me, and something passed over his impassive face, but I couldn't decipher it. Months in my bed, weeks in my body, and I could not read the look in his eyes. "He has requested an audience with you, Princess. He says that he has a message from the queen."

"We do not have time for this," Frost said.

I agreed, but I also knew that ignoring messages or messengers from the queen was not wise. "We left her less than an hour ago, what could she want?"

"You," said a deep voice behind them.

Doyle looked a question at me, and I gave a nod. At a gesture from Doyle, Adair and he parted like a curtain to reveal Mistral.

His hair was the grey of a sky that promised rain, held back from his face in a ponytail. I had only a glimpse of his storm cloud grey eyes before he dropped to one knee and gave me only the back of his head. It was the first time that another sidhe, any sidhe, had voluntarily showed me such... respect. I stared down at the broad sweep of his shoulders in their tight leather armor, and wondered why he'd done it.

"Get up, Mistral."

He shook his head, sending his grey hair like a fall of water down his back, barely held in check by the leather thong that held it at the nape of his neck. "I owe you this at the very least, Princess Meredith."

I had no idea what he meant by that.

I looked at Doyle. He gave a small raise of an eyebrow, a slight turn of the head, his version of a shrug.

"Why do you owe me such a bow?" I asked.

He raised his head just enough so he could roll his eyes at me. "If I had dreamt that you would take one look from me so seriously, I would have been more careful of you, Princess. My oath on that."

I knew what he meant then, for it had been the look of contempt on Mistral's face the night before that had helped me be brave enough to confront Andais when she was in the grip of an evil spell. A spell that had made her slaughter her own men, and be a danger to anyone near her. It had been a very clever assassination ploy. Mistral had told me with his eyes alone that I was just another useless royal, and he hated us all. It wasn't the hatred, but the uselessness that had moved me to action. Because I agreed with him. In that moment I had decided that I would rather die than see them slaughtered.

"Are you so certain one glance from you was what moved me forward?" I meant it to be a joke, but I'd forgotten how long it had been for some of the Queen's Ravens since they'd had a woman joke with them.

He lowered his face quickly, his voice uncertain and uncomfortable. "I am sorry, Princess, I presumed too much."

My kidding had not only fallen flat but embarrassed him. I'd had no idea my words had such power over Mistral. I touched his bowed head, the queen's ring on my right hand. Mark of her rulership, her first gift to me, and an artifact of power.

My fingers brushed his face a breath before the metal of the ring did. He turned those storm-grey eyes up to me. His lips parted as if he meant to speak, but the metal touched his skin, and there was no time for words.

I knew that our bodies still stood and knelt in the hallway inside the Unseelie Court. I knew it, because I'd had this happen before when the magic of the chalice and the ring combined. But to Mistral and me, we were on the top of a hill that was crowned by a large dead tree. I had seen this hill, this tree in one form or another in dreams and visions. Mistral knelt before me with my hand cupping his cheek. He put his hand over mine, holding my touch against his face, as he gazed around at the plain