Лорел Гамильтон - A Lick Of Frost

Veducci recovered first, saying, "Is King Taranis admitting that he beat you as a child, Princess?"

I looked at my uncle, so large, so imposing, so regal in his gold and white court clothes. "He is not denying it, are you Uncle Taranis?"

"Please, Meredith, uncle seems so formal." His voice was wheedling. From the way Nelson began to walk closer to the mirror, I think the tone was meant to be seductive.

"He is not denying it," Doyle said.

"I am not speaking to you, Darkness," Taranis said, and his voice tried to thunder again. But as the seduction had not worked, so now the threat fell flat as well.

"King Taranis," Biggs said, "are you admitting that you beat my client as a child?"

Taranis finally turned to him, frowning. Biggs reacted as if the sun itself had smiled at him. He actually stumbled in his speech and looked uncertain.

Taranis said, "What I did years ago has no bearing on the crime that these monsters committed."

Veducci turned to me. "How badly did he beat you, Princess Meredith?"

"I remember how red my blood was on the white marble," I said. I looked at Veducci as I spoke, though I could feel Taranis's magic pushing at me, calling me to look at him. I looked at Veducci because I could, and because I knew that it would unnerve the king. "If my Gran, my grandmother, had not interfered I believe he would have beaten me to death."

"You hold a grudge, Meredith. I have apologized for my actions that day."

"Yes," I said, turning back to the mirror. "You have recently apologized for that beating."

"Why did he beat you?" Veducci asked.

Taranis roared, "That is not the business of humans."

He'd beat me when I'd asked why Maeve Reed, once the goddess Conchenn, had been exiled from his court. She was the golden goddess of Hollywood now, and had been for fifty years. We were all still living on her estate in Holmby Hills, though the recent addition of so many men was beginning to tax even her space. Maeve had given us some new room by going to Europe. It was far enough away to stay out of Taranis's way — or that was the hope.

Maeve had told us Taranis's deep dark secret. He had wanted to marry her after putting away a third wife for barrenness. Maeve had refused, pointing out that the last wife he'd put away had gone on to have children with someone else. She dared to tell the king that it was he who was barren, not the women. A hundred years ago Maeve had told him this, but he had exiled her and forbidden anyone to speak to her. Because if his court found out that a century ago he had known that he might be barren, and said nothing, did nothing… If the king is barren, the people and land are barren. He had condemned them to a slow death as a people. They lived almost forever, but no children meant that when they died, there would be no more Seelie sidhe. If his court found out what he had done, they were within our laws to demand a living sacrifice, with Taranis in the starring role.

He had twice tried to kill Maeve with magic, horrible spells that no Seelie would admit to doing. He had tried to kill her, and not us, even though he had to wonder if we knew his secret. He feared our queen, or perhaps he didn't think his court would believe anyone who was part of the Unseelie Court. Perhaps that was why Maeve was the threat and not us.

"If you abused the princess when she was a child that may affect this case," Veducci said.

"I now regret my temper in that moment with this woman," Taranis said. "But my one thoughtless moment decades ago does not change the fact that the three Unseelie sidhe before me did worse to the Lady Caitrin."

"If there is a pattern of abuse between the princess and the king," Biggs said, "then his accusations against her lovers may have a motive behind them."

"Are you implying a romantic motive for the king?" Cortez put a great deal of disdain in his voice, as if it were laughable.

"He wouldn't be the first man to beat a girl as a child, then turn to sexual abuse as she grew older," Biggs said.

"What did he accuse me of?" Taranis asked.

"Mr. Biggs is trying to prove that you have romantic intentions toward the princess," Cortez said, "and I am telling him that this is not so."

"Romantic intentions," Taranis repeated slowly. "What does he mean by that?"

"Do you have sexual or marital intentions toward Princess Meredith?" Biggs asked.

"I do not see what such a question has to do with the savage attack by those Unseelie monsters on the beautiful Lady Caitrin."

All the men touching me tensed again or went very still, even Galen. They had all realized that the king had not answered the question. The sidhe only avoided answering a question for two reasons. One, sheer perversity and a love of word games. Taranis had no love of word games, and was one of the least perverse of the sidhe. Two, that the answer was something that they didn't want to admit to. But the only answer Taranis could possibly want to avoid was "yes." It couldn't be "yes." He couldn't have romantic designs on me. He couldn't.

I looked up at Doyle and Frost. I looked for a clue as to what to do. Did I ignore it, or pursue it? Which was better? Which was worse?

Cortez said, "Though we have sympathy with the princess' childhood tragedies, we are here to investigate a new tragedy, the attack by these three men on Lady Caitrin."

I looked at Cortez, He actually looked away from my gaze, as if his statement sounded harsh even to his own ears.

"You do understand that you are all being magically influenced by him?" I asked.

"I think I would know if I were being influenced, Princess Meredith," Cortez said.

"The nature of magical manipulation," Veducci said, coming forward, "is that you don't know it's happening. It's why it's so very illegal."

Biggs faced the mirror. "Are you using magic to manipulate the people in this room, King Taranis?"

"I am not trying to manipulate the entire room, Mr. Biggs," Taranis said.

"May we ask a question?" Doyle asked.

"I will not speak to the monsters of the Unseelie Court," Taranis said.

"Captain Doyle is not accused of any crime," Biggs said. I realized that the lawyers on our side were having less trouble with Taranis's magical presence than those on the other side, except for Veducci, who seemed to be doing just fine. The lawyers had entered into a agreement with Taranis, just a verbal one, but that would be enough for someone of his power to have more of a hold over all of them. It was the subtle magic of kingship. If you agreed to be a true king's man, there was power to that agreement. Taranis had once been chosen by faerie to be king, and even now there was power to that old bargain.

"They are all monsters," Taranis said. He looked at me, gave me all the longing those green-petaled eyes could hold. "Meredith, Meredith, come to us before the power of the Unseelie makes of you something horrible."

If I hadn't broken his spell on me earlier, that appeal might have drawn me to him. But I stood safe among my men, and our power.

"I have seen both courts, Uncle. I found them both equally beautiful and horrible in their own ways."

"How can you compare the light and joy of the Golden Court to the darkness and terror of the Darkling Throne?"

"I am probably the only sidhe noble in recent history who can compare them, Uncle."

"Taranis, Meredith. Please, Taranis."

I didn't like his insistence that I call him by name and not title. In front of the Unseelie, he was always very aware of his title. In fact, he hadn't asked for all his appellations to be read. It wasn't like him to forgo anything that built him up in the eyes of others.

"Very well, Uncle… Taranis." The moment I said it, there was more weight in the air. It was harder to breathe. He'd joined his name to the spell of attraction so that every time I said his name, it would bind me more tightly. That was against the rules. Duels had been fought over less between the sidhe in any court. But you did not challenge the king to a duel. One, he was king, and two, he'd once been among the greatest warriors the sidhe could boast. He might be diminished, but I was mortal, and I'd swallow any insult he tossed our way. Maybe he'd counted on that?