Chapter 49
Forty-Nine
Though I took the Dark Fool as my lover, he would never earn my trust. It was still his long fingers I pictured stroking the side of Mairi Grieve’s face, causing her disease and eventual demise. Never would I forget how her face seemed to collapse beneath his touch.
But in Faery, we take our pleasures where we will. Trust is no requirement for that. Let me sleep with Amadan in my bed and a knife underneath. Would it be sex or death tonight? The question gave our coupling the sweetest bite.
Amadan took me to greater heights of ecstasy than I had ever known, even with my beloved shepherd king.
Thomas was fully mortal, after all. There was no tenderness when Amadan and I made love, any more than there is tenderness to a thunderstorm, a raging fire, or the pounding of the sea.
If some part of me found his attentions lacking, it was only a small part I hardly needed after all.
So much of myself I had closed off to become queen. Physical pleasure seemed to be all that remained.
I could live with that.
The others were less accepting of my choice of bedfellow.
When Amadan was in the palace, the usually docile Jamie became irritable and moody.
He threw his toys on the floor and pouted, or pretended not to like his dinner, though ’twas brought specially from the mortal realm and tailored to his preferences.
He would run out to the garden to play, and I would not be able to find him until long after his bedtime.
The Dark Fool did make overtures, or so I thought. He presented Jamie with a large, delicious looking plum that made the boy’s eyes grow wide with hunger. Jamie was just about to take a bite when the glint of glamour alerted me, and my faery sight revealed the maggots crawling within.
I dashed the fruit out of Jamie’s hands.
He blinked at me, flinched back, eyes round with hurt. My lips parted with apology; I raised my hand to touch him, but he dashed out of the room.
The Dark Fool could not keep the smirk from his lips.
My hand lowered as I hid my disappointment. “Amadan, you leave the boy alone, if you two cannot become friends.”
“Friends, eh?”
“I am serious. You will not harm the boy.”
His head inclined, a false seeming of humbleness. “No, Your Majesty. I will not harm the boy.” Still, I did not like that glint of mischief in his eyes.
My adult companions liked the Fool no better, though as far as I could tell he left them alone.
Neither could forgive the geas he had nearly forced upon them.
Lyel stayed away for days at a time, regardless of whether I needed him.
Lileas would enter the room and then leave promptly when she saw the Dark Fool was in there, too.
This did not appear to bother Amadan much.
It did bother me. The people I care about despise him so.
How long would it be before their derision extended to me?
I could command them to tolerate him. Cast a geas that would force them to welcome the Dark Fool with open arms. Twist their thoughts as I had Thomas Shepherd’s and bend them to my will.
I spoke to them instead.
“You should not envy Amadan,” I told Lyel, as we made ready to tour the great northern moors one day.
“You are my trusted knight and seneschal. The Dark Fool is only a body in my bed.” And if he had a problem with that, if my trusted henchman proved no more accepting than the judgmental Christians had been, that was when I would compel him, if need be.
But Lyel only pressed his lips together, his jaw rigid and his eyes hard.
“I feel no envy,” he finally said. “He tried to tear away half of who I am. Believe me, my queen, he would condemn us to a life half-lived. When you are with him, I fear you would, too.”
When Lileas came into my chambers the next morning to serve me breakfast, I took her hand and held it. “Join me,” I said. “My bed is lonely without you.”
Her face was sad as she turned and pulled her hand away. “Is it an invitation or a command?”
My hand dropped to the coverlet, lifeless. “An invitation, of course. I want you here.” Her tenderness, her softness. The way she brought beauty to the room and to my life.
There was a certain wistfulness to her expression. “I regret that I cannot accept. When you lie down with wolves, there is no safe place for the sheep to lay.”
It was a cruel metaphor, and I had never known Lileas to be cruel. “You cannot mistake Amadan’s deeds for my own.”
“No?” She pinned me in her celadon gaze then began stacking the breakfast plates. “I must put this all away.”
I stared at her retreating back, sensing I had angered her, and I did not know why.
The years passed; Jamie grew taller, learned to lace his tunic, and lost his first tooth.
Lyel taught him how to ride, and to shoot a bow, though Jamie did not take to the latter with any alacrity, and preferred feeding and grooming the horses to riding them.
As my responsibilities as queen grew, as I visited the mortal realm more often, still trying to find a lover to pay the Teind, Jamie and I spent less time together.
That was all right, I told myself. Only natural as he grew up, and he had his friend the goat boy for companionship.
Yet despite Jamie’s growth, and the growing distance between us, I did not truly realize how much time had passed.
In this place of pleasure and no toil, where the seasons were suggestions only and the days lasted as long as I did, time seemed a distant stranger at best.
Until the morning Lileas appeared at the crack of my bedchamber door to tell me, “Jamie has disappeared.”
Sleep still held me in its grasp. I propped myself up on my elbows and yawned.
Jamie has gone into hiding again. Small boys can get lost so easily, particularly when they’ve an entire palace in which to roam.
Jamie had been known to fall asleep in his wardrobe when hiding from the Dark Fool.
He had once run out to the garden and been turned into a daisy by a mischievous fae.
He turned back by suppertime and had seemed none the worse for wear.
That Lileas could not find him was not necessarily a cause for alarm.
“Perhaps he has gone out to the garden,” I said, wiping the sleep from my eyes. “Or he is playing with his friend, the little goat boy.”
Lileas opened the door fully and there stood the goat boy himself, dark eyes wide with alarm. “Theron it was who alerted me to his absence.”
“Ah.” That was peculiar then. The two lads were the closest of friends.
It was not like Jamie to disappear on him.
“I suppose there are all manner of places he could have gone. Perhaps he is playing hide and seek again and did not let anyone know.” I frowned, for the words fit so poorly, and tasted sour in my mouth.
I attempted a reassuring grin and placed a hand on Theron’s back.
Theron shrank back from me in horror, eyes glistening wet. I could give no comfort to the boy.
Lileas rang my little bluebell, summoning two hobs. “Give Theron something to eat and take him out to the garden.” She smiled gently and rumpled the goat boy’s curls. “Do not fear, lad. The queen will stop at nothing until your friend is found.”
Theron nodded, and the hobs led him away.
Oh, Jamie, my love. What did I do to chase you away? I installed the little mortal in the palace, yes, but then abandoned him, knowing none among my people cared one whit what should become of him. Mayhap he was right to leave me. My belly soured, and sand seemed to fill my mouth.
“Jamie,” I cried out, as I strode into his bedroom.
The bedding was undisturbed, with no little man nestled in like a pearl in an oyster shell.
“Come out, poppet. Queen Fia is calling.” It sounded wrong, not the way I wanted Jamie to think of me.
I wanted to say “Mother,” but the word caught like thistles in my throat.
Lileas followed me into the chamber, where the clear walls swam with sea creatures, exotic in shades of silver, pink, gold.
She pulled aside the heavy curtains that draped over the undulating walls, a convenient spot for the little ones to hide.
Yet no curly-haired bairn awaited us there, though an orca swam through the ocean walls, baring its sharp teeth.
I shuddered at the sight, surprised the boy could even sleep with such visitors as this inside the very walls, but I did not let the creature throw me.
“I will check the wardrobe.” I rushed to an enormous cabinet, carved with sea creatures such as swam through the walls, with sinuous sea serpents forming the s-shaped handles of the door.
Gripping one, I cried out, “Little man, come out. The Dark Fool is not here. There is nothing here to harm you.” My voice grew hoarse, causing me to stumble over the words.
No bairn came ambling out of the wardrobe to greet me. No Jamie rushed headlong into my arms.
“Your Majesty.” Lileas bent to pick up something off the floor, something just barely hidden by the coverlets of Jamie’s bed, like the poppet I placed in the bedroom of Malcolm de Lyne.
When she straightened, I saw in her hands a silver knife, and wound around it, a long strand of crimson hair. “Isn’t this yours?”
The hair most certainly was. I took the dagger from her, turning it about in my hand. That was mine as well, the weapon with which I had killed Thomas de Lyne.
“Mine, yes,” I said slowly. “But I would not have left it in the boy’s room. ’Tis unsafe.”
Gazing at the knife, I saw reflected in its blade overlong fingers, that wound my hair around the weapon and slid it not-quite-beneath the bed. Right where Jamie might find it.
Amadan.
No, he had not hurt the boy. He only made it seem as if I wished to.