Лорел Гамильтон - Seduced by Moonlight

«Most,» Sage conceded, «but not all.» He waved his finger at me again. «If the chalice has brought back the complete power to that ring» — he pointed at the box — «then if you have your perfect match on this plane, you'll know it, and if you don't, you'll know that, too.»

I looked at the little box, and suddenly it seemed more important than it had even a moment ago.

«That's not how the queen used it,» Rhys said, «not for herself.»

«No,» Nicca said, softly, from behind us. «Once her own true love was killed in battle, she used the power of the ring to fill her bed. She was able with its help to make another sidhe elf-struck.»

I turned and looked at him. He wore slacks that were so dark brown, they were nearly black, and boots that matched underneath. His hair spilled over his naked upper body, because his wings were even larger than Sage's, and though we'd tried to get a silk-and-spandex tee over them, in the end we'd been defeated. They were too huge, and too oddly shaped, all swirls and tail.

«I thought she would go mad when Owain died.» Doyle's eyes were still tight shut, his hands gripping the chair arms, but his voice sounded normal enough.

«What no one had realized was that the ring had an added power,» he continued in his calm voice. «Apparently, it acted as a kind of protective magic around the couples of its choosing. It guaranteed a happy ending, by making sure no tragedy befell them.»

Rhys nodded. «The ring had begun to fade in power—we knew that because the great matchmaking ball had failed some decades before. A sidhe would come to the door of the ballroom, and no one would step forward. But we didn't understand that the ring had kept us safe, not just happy and fertile.»

«Until the battle of Rhodan,» Frost said, «where we lost two hundred sidhe warriors. Most of them had been wed to their love matches.»

«It was the first time in our history that a single couple that the ring had brought together had not had a happy ending,» Doyle said.

«It wasn't just one couple,» Rhys said, «it was dozens.» He shook his head. «I'd never heard such keening.»

«Some of those left behind chose to fade,» Doyle said.

«Suicide, you mean,» Rhys said.

Doyle opened his eyes enough to glance at Rhys, then closed them again. «If you prefer.»

«I don't prefer, it's just the truth,» Rhys said.

Doyle shrugged. «Fine.»

Galen had drifted up behind everyone. «Did the ring ever pick more than one person for anyone?» He was dressed all in pale spring green.

«You mean once someone was widowed, did the ring ever find them someone else?» Doyle asked.

«That, or literally pick more than one person for someone. I mean, you may get a child from every match the ring made, but to be truly happy, not just magically in love, did the ring ever have trouble choosing just one person for someone?»

Doyle opened his eyes again and actually turned to look full at Galen. «Do you not believe in soul mates, one perfect love for each person?» It would have seemed an almost silly question from anyone else.

Galen glanced at me, then forced himself to look away to meet Doyle's dark gaze. «I don't believe in love at first sight. I believe true love takes time to build, like friendship. I believe in instant lust.»

He moved directly behind my seat. I could feel him like some warming fire, I wanted him to put his hands on the back of the seat, to be closer to that warmth. As if he'd heard me, he put his hands where I wanted them, and it was all I could do not to touch my head against his fingers. But somehow with the ring box sitting there, I wasn't sure I wanted to be touching him when I put it on. I was pretty certain that touching no one was the best idea, until we knew if the ring had been affected by the chalice.

«Could we get the queen's permission not to wear it until we're at the faerie mound?» I asked.

«No,» Doyle said, «she was most insistent.»

I sighed. We did not want Andais angry with us. We so didn't want that. «Fine, give me the box, and everybody stand back.»

«It's not a bomb,» Rhys said, «just a ring.»

I frowned at him. «After what I've just heard, I'd almost prefer a bomb.» Almost, I added in my head.

I didn't want my choices limited here and now. I was afraid of whom the ring would pick, and why. I didn't trust magic in matters of the heart. Hell's bells, I didn't trust matters of the heart at all. Love was an unreliable sort of thing, sometimes.

Rhys handed me the box, and after I repeated my need for privacy, all of them got up and walked away from me. Kitto remained at the back of the plane with a blanket over his entire body, hiding. Hiding from his fear of metal, and modern technology. He was afraid of so many things that it seemed less remarkable for him to be afraid of airplanes, than for Doyle, who feared almost nothing.

The rest of the men divided themselves into two groups. One stood around Doyle, who was still in his seat, though watching everything now. The other stood near the back of the plane.

«Open it,» Rhys said, from near Doyle.

«She's scared,» Galen said, and his voice held an edge of the nerves that were scrambling around my stomach.

«Scared of what?» Sage said. «Finding her perfect match? What a stupid thing to fear. Most would give their lives to have such a problem.»

«Be quiet,» Nicca said.

Sage opened his mouth to complain, then closed it, looking puzzled, as if he wasn't sure himself why he listened to Nicca.

I stared at the box in my hands, licked my lipsticked mouth that was suddenly dry, and couldn't for the life of me understand why I was so afraid. Why be afraid of finding out if my perfect match was here, among these men? No, that wasn't the fear, I realized. What if the ring didn't find my perfect match here and now? What if my perfect match wasn't any of them? What if that was why I hadn't become pregnant?

I looked up and scanned the faces around me. I realized that in a strange way, I loved them all. I certainly valued them all. I also wasn't sure how Frost or Galen would take it if the ring chose someone other than him. Both had shown a very un-fey-like tendency to be jealous. If Frost wasn't the chosen one, well, I doubt I'd seen pouting like that from him.

I looked up at Galen, and knew that he loved me, truly loved me, and had loved me when I had no chance of being queen. He was the only one, except Rhys, who had made it clear he wanted to be my lover when it would gain him nothing but my body, and maybe my love. Galen was such a romantic. I think he'd come to terms with not being my husband, not being king to my queen, if I got pregnant by someone else. But I think in his heart of hearts he believed that I was his soul mate. He could give me up, as long as he got to keep the ideal of what could have been.

I stared back down at the box. If the ring chose someone else, Galen would have to find a new dream, a new love, a new everything.

«Open it,» Rhys said.

I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and opened it.

The ring was a heavy silver octagonal, not perfectly round, as if it molded to all the fingers it had encircled. It was actually a very plain, almost mannish-looking ring. Inside there were words carved, in an ancient form of Gaelic, too old for me to read, but I knew translated to read, «Insert.»

There was nothing threatening about it. And yet. I touched its cool silver with a fingertip, and nothing happened. But then nothing ever did until it was on your finger. It was picky that way.

«You must put it on, Meredith,» Doyle said. I'd almost broken them all of calling me anything but Merry. It was the beginning of the return to court formality. I hated it.