24 AMBROSE
ABOARD THE FORESIGHT
“Enter,”
I called through the door, then waited with bated breath as Lonnie stepped inside.
Her face was screwed up in a scowl, and she gave a disdainful glance around the room as she entered, her eyes finally landing on me. “Am I up to your standards now, my lord?”
I raised my eyebrows. It had been quite some time since anyone called me that. “Sir”
or “Commander”
was much more common throughout the rebel army, but the phrase sent my mind back to a time long before. It felt like an entirely different person’s life, and I supposed, in some ways it was.
“You look lovely,”
I said honestly. “Would you like to sit?”
Her scowl deepened, and she gave another cursory glance to the room before moving stiffly to take the seat across from me. I wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but I assumed this wasn’t it.
The cabin looked hardly different from the one she’d occupied for the last several days. It was another office type room, with wood paneled walls and bookshelves on both ends. The only difference was this room was slightly larger, and instead of a bed, an intricately carved dining table stood in the center of the room.
The table was adorned with a crimson tablecloth, draped carefully over its smooth surface. Glimmering silver utensils were neatly arranged beside plates of delicate porcelain, each one bearing an intricate floral pattern. A golden candelabra stood in the center, its flickering flames casting a warm glow over the scene.
I reached for a bottle of wine standing near the center of the table. “Would you like some wine?”
“No.”
She shook her head and the crown placed haphazardly over her wild curls tilted dangerously to one side. “I know better than to drink fairy wine.”
I furrowed my brow. “I don’t think that will be a problem for you.”
She returned my confused look with one of her own. “It always has been before.”
That was…interesting.
I’d assumed, given her magic and her family, that she’d have no trouble with the kinds of enchantments that often felled average humans. Was it only the wine that affected her, or other spells as well? Music, perhaps? Could she break an oath? I silently added this to the mental list of questions I’d planned to ask her.
I poured a glass of wine for her anyway, and passed it across the table. She took it, but didn’t drink, and a stony silence once again fell over the room.
“How are you enjoying the ship?” I asked.
Her scowl turned instantly to a glare of contempt. “I’m not here to make pleasant conversation.”
It was a challenge not to roll my eyes. Of course, I was well aware she was only here to eat—if I hadn’t insisted, she likely never would have ventured outside my cabin. Still, wasn’t it exhausting for her to maintain such animosity?
Then, I supposed not. I’d seen enough of her long, painfully slow courtship with my brother and cousin to know that Lonnie would hold on to her grudges with her last dying breath. I would have to try to make sure she had no good reasons to hate me then…at least, no more than she already did.
I hadn’t meant for our relationship to begin as poorly as it had, but I realized now that I was more dependent on my magic than even I’d realized. I’d never met anyone before without already having some knowledge of how to avoid offending them, of how they would behave, and whether we’d get along or not. I’d already made far too many mistakes with her out of sheer arrogance, assuming she would immediately fall in line with whatever I wanted. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. It would be an exciting challenge, I supposed, to win her affection with my personality alone.
The door swung open and one of the kitchen staff entered, carrying a large tray laden with the first course. The woman walked slowly across the room, swaying slightly with both the weight of the tray and the motion of the ship.
I snuck another glance at Lonnie, who now had her hands clenched on the edge of the table. I nodded for the servant to place a dish in front of her, and without missing a beat, Lonnie fell upon it, shoving several lumps of cheese and half a smoked sausage into her mouth at once.
“Hungry?” I asked.
She didn’t reply, but took another large bite of sausage. I took that to be a “Yes.”
I waited several minutes before speaking again, to allow her time to eat. In the meantime, I watched her carefully.
It had been my own selfish desires that demanded she dress up for dinner, and I’d never been more pleased to give in to something I wanted. This girl, with the wild hair and the crown, was the one I’d watched all these years, and longed to finally see in person. This was how she’d looked when she invaded my dreams, as if we were sharing the same visions, and how I imagined her every time I’d closed my eyes for the last several years.
I’d seen all the other sides of her, and they were also lovely, but this version—the queen—was the one I’d grown enamored with.
For Bael, she was the delicate servant girl, who made him feel useful with how much she needed him.
For Scion, she was the fighter, the equal, who challenged him in a way that no one else could.
And for me, one day she’d be the ruler. The queen, who was both my greatest strength and only weakness.
She just didn’t know it yet.
“Do you recall the terms of our bargain?” I asked.
She looked up, seeming annoyed at being pulled away from her meal. “Yes.”
“Are you sure? Because you’ve not yet asked or answered a single relevant question.”
She gritted her teeth, and I could practically hear the insults she was biting back. “Fine, then.”
She attempted a smile that came out more of a grimace. “Would you like to ask the first question?”
I thought I knew what question she would ask first, and I was eager to learn if I was correct. I grinned, unable to help it. How novel to wonder about anything, much less something so mundane. “Ladies first.”
Swallowing thickly, she sucked in a deep breath. “Is my mother truly alive?”
My smile widened. I’d been right, which only confirmed how well I already knew her. She couldn’t know yet how satisfying that was, but she’d soon find out.
I leaned forward across the table, meeting her gaze. “As far as I know, yes.”
Her breath caught, and the most fleeting look of hurt crossed her face before she schooled her expression back to neutral. “Is she in Aftermath?”
“No.”
I heard Lonnie’s heartbeat speed up, and an image of the last time I’d seen Rhiannon flashed through my mind. That had indeed been in Aftermath, and not so very long ago, but she’d left the province soon after.
Lonnie leaned forward eagerly, slamming both hands down on the table. “Tell me?—”
I cut her off. “Stop. It’s my turn to ask a question.”
“No, but?—”
“That was what we agreed, love. A question for a question, and you’ve already had two.”
She savagely stabbed her fork into the sliced meat on the plate in front of her, and scowled up at me. “Fine,”
she said, shoving a bite into her mouth so her words came out garbled. “Ask your damn question.”
I paused, prolonging the moment, if only to annoy her. Was it cruel? Perhaps, but she seemed determined to defy me at every turn, she deserved some small torment in exchange.
I very slowly reached for my glass of wine, taking a long sip while she practically bounced up and down in her seat with impatience.
“What…”
I said slowly, as if thinking. “Is your favorite color?”
She gaped at me. “You must be fucking joking.”
I clenched my teeth to avoid laughing. I was joking, in fact, but her reaction was so intense I now needed to see it through, if only to goad her. “Is that too difficult of a question?”
She bared her teeth. “No, it’s too simple. What are you playing at?”
“That’s my business,”
I told her, as I had no good answer to give. “Answer the question or leave the table, it’s your choice.”
“Purple,”
she blurted out, then immediately gasped, coughing like pain was searing over her throat. Seeming to not think about what she was doing, she reached for the wine she’d so far avoided, and took a large sip.
I had to forcibly close my mouth to avoid gaping at her. That pointless question had just revealed far more than I’d ever expected. She truly could not lie. I’d noticed her struggling before, when she woke up in my cabin, but I hadn’t been entirely sure of what I was seeing. Now, there was no doubt.
“Why lie?” I asked.
“I didn’t,”
she spluttered, and again choked as I knew a second round of pain was now joining the first. “I mean,”
she coughed. “I didn’t think I had.”
I winced, knowing the feeling of a falsehood well. “Interesting. I suppose that was more of an answer than I even expected. You may go.”
She massaged her neck bitterly, before blurting out: “What’s going on?”
I cocked my head. “Be more specific.”
She paused, as if realizing she’d wasted a question she could’ve used to find out more about her mother. I watched the calculation take place behind her eyes, before she snapped her gaze back to me. “Why can’t I lie?”
“You could before, I take it?”
Of course, I already knew that Lonnie lied often and well, but waited for her nod of confirmation to be sure. All humans lied, but she was more adept at it than most. I had to assume she’d been taught to lie intentionally, since she spewed the same nonsense that Rhiannon spoke with every other breath without ever flinching.
Conversely, Fae children were taught from an early age not to lie, and how to avoid doing so by mistake. It was a half-truth to say we could never do so. We technically could lie, but the resultant pain was so immense it was hardly worth trying. Even now, two hundred years later, I recalled well the pain of misspeaking by mistake back in my youth.
I ran a hand through my hair, thinking. For once, I didn’t know the right answer, and could only guess. “I do not claim to know every secret of the source,”
I said finally. “But I suspect you can’t lie now when before you could because you have begun consciously using magic.”
“Why would that matter?”
“I don’t know.”
I shrugged. “Perhaps it has always been so. I only know that all creatures who are sustained by the Source struggle to speak falsely…. or,”
I added, as a second idea occurred to me. “It may have nothing to do with you individually, but because you have recently ingested a large amount of magical blood.”
She looked taken aback. “You know about that?”
I snorted a laugh. “There is little you have done that I don’t know about, love.”
She flushed, but recovered quickly. “If you’re expecting me to be embarrassed, I won’t.”
I grinned. “Only humans would expect you to be embarrassed by sex. You must know that, having lived at the court.”
She nodded tersely. “I meant about the blood. Isn’t that taboo among you?”
I raised an eyebrow. The Fae viewed blood sharing with the same repressed eyes as the humans viewed pleasure, which was to say, it was not polite dinner conversation. It was taboo, but only for those who were not mated. “Do you wish to waste another question on my opinions of your mating, or would you rather hear about your mother?”
This time, she flushed scarlet and looked back down at her plate. “Fine, where is she?”
she asked, in a slightly humbled tone.
I bit my lip. How frustrating it was to have no idea what might have caused her strange reaction. It was really my turn to ask, but she looked so uncomfortable I let it go. “The last I saw her she was on her way to Underneath. Now, I believe she is in the king’s dungeon.”
She gasped. “Why?”
“She went to Underneath because I asked her to. As for the dungeon, that’s a longer explanation.”
“Tell me,”
she demanded.
Alright, that was far more than enough. “You really do not seem to understand how this works. You’ve now had several questions in a row, but answered none of mine.”
She let out an angry growl, and made to stand. “Because your questions are pointless. You already know everything, right?”
“Not everything,”
I murmured.
There were many things I couldn’t know through watching her by way of another’s future. And, after the intriguing results of my first question, I was not at all inclined to give up a chance to know more about her.
“What’s your favorite pastime?” I asked.
She looked mutinous. “I don’t have one. My only goal has ever been survival. I’ve hardly had time to develop leisurely interests.”
I waited a beat, but she didn’t react as if she’d lied. Interesting. She at least believed herself, then, though all evidence I’d seen led me to disagree. From what I’d seen, she had carved out a great deal of free time for herself over the years, and seemed to fill it with rule breaking and casual sex. Of everything about her, that was one of her most Fae-like qualities.
“If you did have time for leisure,”
I asked, “what would you choose to do?”
She grinned widely. “That’s a second question.”
I smiled, having learned something new from her answer alone. She was a shameless hypocrite. “Fine, answer it and we’ll call ourselves even.”
“I…I don’t know—”
She coughed, and changed course mid-sentence. “I suppose, I like winning.”
“Winning…”
I said, thoughtfully. She and I had that in common, then. “I suppose we’ll have to find a game for you to play.”
“Why would you care if I’m enjoying myself?”
“Perhaps I want you to be happy.”
She let out a harsh laugh. “Perhaps, but I doubt it.”
I took another sip of wine. “Doubt whatever you like. It’s your turn.”
“Why is my mother in the dungeon?”
“That’s a complex question, but the short answer is she went to Underneath looking for someone whom she has not seen in many years. Landing herself in the dungeon…well, I suppose I don’t know for certain, but given what I know of that court, I am almost positive she is now a prisoner.”
“Who was she looking for?”
she demanded.
“My superior,”
I replied. “The original Dullahan.”
She sat up straighter, a spark of genuine excitement flickering through her gaze. “Who is that?”
I scoffed. “Nice try, love. It’s my turn.”
“Don’t call me that.”
I raised my eyebrow. “What, you don’t like pet-names?”
“Is that your question?”
“No.”
My smile broadened. “I’d rather find that out for myself, love. Now, let me think…”
I paused, mulling over what seemingly “pointless” question would give the best insights.
“Go on,”
she rushed me.
“Who is your closest friend?”
To my surprise, the smile immediately slipped off her face. “I’m not answering that. Ask something else.”
I leaned forward, confusion washing over me. “No, that’s my question. Who is your closest friend?”
“Ask something else, or I’m leaving.”
“No.”
She stood abruptly, the legs of her chair screeching across the floor. Her face had gone white, and her mouth twisted in an angry snarl. “This is pointless. I only came here to eat, anyway. Keep your information, I can find out anything I want to know without your help and without being taunted like this.”
She turned on her heel and stormed from the room, and all I could do was stare after her.
What the fuck had just happened?