Chapter 31 #2
“Considering that I love Lord Kinsale too, I had to tell him the truth,” said Mina. “I couldn’t in all good conscience say yes to his proposal if he didn’t know the secrets I’ve been keeping from him. It wouldn’t have been right.”
“Well,” said Mrs. Temple, “I must say, that makes things a bit easier for me and the Parasol Academy in terms of managing any scandal associated with the Hyde Park mud mishap at least.” Then to Mina’s surprise, the headmistress beamed.
“Let me be the first to offer you both my heartfelt congratulations.”
Oh … Mina blinked in surprise. “Thank-thank you,” she said. “Of course, I understand I’ll have to tender my resignation, surrender my Parasol Academy governess’s license, and cease employing the magic of the Fae—”
“About that,” said Mrs. Temple. “As I mentioned before, I believe, there is a crisis afoot. And the Fae agree with me. In light of the unprecedented and perilous times we are in, I think it’s best if Good Queen Maeve herself explains the situation and what is at stake.”
“Queen Maeve?” breathed Mina. If someone had tried to knock her over with a feathered Unsmirchify duster right now, they would have succeeded. “Is that even possible?”
Mrs. Temple laughed. “Why of course it is. I talk to Queen Maeve regularly, seeking her counsel.”
“But … But what about the Parasol Academy’s rules?” asked Mina. “I’ve broken so many, including the fact that I’ve disclosed a good deal of the Academy’s secrets to Lord Kinsale. Won’t Queen Maeve be angry?”
“In the past, perhaps,” said Mrs. Temple.
“But not right now. Not when it seems that her sister, Queen Mab, appears intent on stealing Lord Fitzwilliam. That she’s the one who’s been orchestrating Sir Bedivere’s actions through his ensorcelled ring.
But I’m sure Her Majesty will be able to explain it better than I can.
” She looked at Phinn. “Would it be possible to secure the library door before I summon Her Majesty? I’d rather no one enter during our conversation. It must be conducted in private.”
“O’ course,” said Phinn. As he locked the library door, Mrs. Temple asked, “I trust both Lord Fitzwilliam and Tom Fleet are being looked after while we speak?”
“Yes,” said Mina, and she explained the arrangements Phinn had made. “I believe they’ll be perfectly safe and content for the moment.”
“Aye,” agreed Phinn as he returned to the fireside. “And the front door is always manned by a pair of footmen, so if Sir Bedivere decides to show up on me doorstep lookin’ for Mina or Christopher, I’ll hear about it straightaway. And … and he’ll have me to answer to.”
Mrs. Temple inclined her head. “Very good,” she said.
“Now, just one last thing before I summon Queen Maeve.” She reached into her silk gown’s pocket and to Mina’s surprise, withdrew a Parasol Academy Handbook, a great feat in and of itself given the size of the tome.
“Lord Kinsale,” she said gravely, “I’m going to ask you to swear an oath. ”
After donning a pair of ley-lensed spectacles also pulled from her pocket, Mrs. Temple opened up the Handbook to a page toward the end.
“It’s all here,” she continued, pointing at a particular paragraph.
“Just pop on these special glasses”—she passed Phinn the ley-lenses—“place your right hand over your heart, and then you’ll simply state what’s written here.
That upon your honor as a nobleman and a gentleman, you will never reveal the Parasol Academy’s secrets, or anything to do with the Fae Realm, to anyone at all. Or words to that effect.”
“Well, considerin’ I’d rather not risk gettin’ turned into a rat or a frog or a newt, I’d be more than happy to,” said Phinn, sliding on the ley-spectacles then placing a large hand upon his chest.
Once he’d made the pledge Mrs. Temple had asked of him, she nodded her approval.
“In light of recent events, I feel as though we need to create honorary memberships for the true loves of Parasol Academy alumnae,” she said.
“But that is something for another day. Right”—she took back her spectacles and put the Handbook down on the table where the untouched tea tray sat—“let us talk with Queen Maeve.”
With a fascinated gaze, Mina watched as Mrs. Temple crossed to the gilt-edged mirror above the marble mantelpiece, the one she’d been studying when Mina and Phinn had arrived.
The headmistress removed one of her white silk gloves, pushed it into her pocket, then lightly touched her bare fingertips to the glass.
And then she began to sing an incantation, one that Mina had never heard before.
Felicity Temple’s voice was as sweet and light as any songbird’s as the melody floated into the air.
Mina couldn’t quite catch any of the words, but she could tell it was a Faerillion spell.
As Mrs. Temple sang, the mirror’s surface began to ripple and shimmer like water; it was as though a breeze had drifted across a moonlit pool.
A moment later, tender sprigs sprouting flower buds and delicate green leaves emerged from the mirror and curled about its gilt edge.
The vine-like branches spilled forth, twining around the mantelpiece and its array of porcelain vases and marble busts.
When the blossoms opened, revealing their soft pink and white petals, they released a deliciously sweet fragrance that smelled exactly like spring.
Phinn reached for Mina’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. But when she chanced a glance at her fiancé’s face, he was as transfixed by what was happening before them as much as Mina was.
The strange rippling of the glass surface ceased as soon as Mrs. Temple finished her melodious incantation.
Peering into the mirror was like looking into a shifting, silvery-lilac mist, and Mina couldn’t see anything much at first. Excitement and not a small degree of apprehension bubbled inside her.
She wanted to move closer to the mirror so she could finally see the much-venerated Good Queen Maeve, but she was also a trifle fearful.
The last thing she wanted to do was upset the powerful Fae Queen.
Well, any more than she possibly already had, considering her rule-breaking spree.
It certainly wouldn’t hurt to curtsy.
And then all at once the veil of mist dissipated and the most breath-stealing creature Mina had ever seen materialized in the mirror.
Beside her, Phinn gave a low whistle as though he too were overcome with awe, and Mina couldn’t blame him.
Her Royal Highness, Good Queen Maeve, was breathtakingly beautiful with a flawless porcelain complexion.
Her dark brows, elegantly arched, were set above lavender-gray eyes fringed with long dark lashes.
Her nose was straight, her forehead high and noble, her cheekbones sculpted.
Her lips were full and the hue of ripe summer berries, and her cheeks were tinted with the softest hint of rose-petal pink.
Upon her pale lilac hair, which framed her face in waves before tumbling to her slender shoulders, sat a delicate crown of small white flowers—hawthorn blossoms perhaps.
And her ivory-white gown—from what Mina could actually see of it because the Fae Queen was only visible from the waist up—appeared to be rendered from gossamer-thin silk that sparkled as though sprinkled with stardust. She sat regally upon an intricately wrought wickerwork throne threaded with ivy and more hawthorn blossoms. And were those almost-transparent lilac wings at her back, shimmering ever so slightly?
When Mrs. Temple curtsied, most gracefully, Mina was prompted to do so too. Phinn tilted his large body into a respectful bow.
“Felicity Temple, you have summoned me,” said Maeve with a warm yet regal smile.
Her voice brought to mind delicate, lovely, tranquil things like the tinkling of tiny silver bells or water spilling from a fountain.
Or the whisper of a gentle breeze through long grass or the boughs of a willow tree.
The sigh of a wave against a sandy shore.
Mina might still be overwhelmed with awe, but at the same time, she was also strangely comforted.
Her instincts told her that she could trust this ethereal being.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Mrs. Temple. “And as you see”—she gestured toward Mina and Phinn—“we have company. May I introduce Miss Hermina Davenport and her fiancé, Phineas O’Connell, the Marquess of Kinsale?”
“Ah, Hermina Davenport,” said Maeve. As her lavendergray eyes settled on Mina, a shiver passed across Mina’s skin.
It felt as though the Fae Queen could see right into her heart and mind.
But then the odd sensation passed and Mina felt like herself again—well, almost like herself apart from the sense of quiet wonderment surrounding her.
“Congratulations to you and your Lord Kinsale on your engagement. I take it this is a recent development?”
Mina curtsied again and Phinn inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Yes, it is,” he said. “Very recent. And thank you, Your Majesty.” He placed a hand lightly upon Mina’s back. “I’ll take good care ’o Miss Davenport.”
“I’m sure you will,” said the Queen with a gracious smile.
“Now, Miss Davenport”—her brows dipped into a solemn but kind frown as she addressed Mina—“you have been through some trials, all courtesy of my sister, Mab. And you have performed admirably, going above and beyond to protect young Viscount Fitzwilliam. Do not ever doubt that.”
“Thank-thank you, Your Majesty,” said Mina when she managed to summon her voice.
Then she pulled back her shoulders and asked a question that had been burning the tip of her tongue.
“But, I must ask, Your Majesty, how do you know all this about me? And what is your sister’s endgame?
Why has she enlisted Sir Bedivere Ponsonby, Lord Fitzwilliam’s guardian, to take him north to the Arctic?
Is that the location of your sister’s court? ”