Richelle Mead - Shadow Heir

“That ‘state’ will be over before you know it.” Dorian took the bow from me and passed it off to a servant. “And until then, you’re much more capable of things than you give yourself credit for. Once your little world-conquering bundles of joy are born, we’ll train you up to be the best bow-woman in this world.”

His bravado made me smile again, and I felt a little silly for my whining. Hopefully, it was just more I could blame on hormones. Inspiration hit me, and I straightened up proudly. “I don’t need lessons. I’m already the best shot in this world. And in the others.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

I glanced over at my fallen arrows and summoned the air currents around them. The air was quick to obey me and lifted the arrows off the ground. One quick motion, and they shot off toward the stag like rockets, embedding themselves in what would have been the poor creature’s heart.

“Magnificent,” laughed Dorian, clapping his hands. “You really are a natural.”

I returned his grin, delighted with my triumph and with ... well, this. This small moment out in the sunny spring day. This small moment ... with him. I met his eyes, momentarily caught up in the shades of green that played throughout them, rivaling the leaves that gently rustled around us.

“Eugenie?”

Whatever else might have passed in that moment was lost as I turned and saw Roland Markham approaching with a group of Rowan soldiers. Dorian was forgotten as I hurried over and hugged my stepfather.

“Your Majesty,” said one of the soldiers. “Roland Storm Slayer is here.”

“So I see,” I said. If there was anyone the gentry regarded with as much awe as the mother of Storm King’s heir, it was Roland. He had rescued my mother when she’d been abducted to the Otherworld. Later, when Storm King came seeking her and me, Roland had finally put an end to my biological father once and for all. Killing the Otherworld’s most powerful, notorious warlord in recent history earned a lot of respect—and wariness. Roland was oblivious to it all, however. In truth, he disliked coming to the Otherworld and had vowed never to return after rescuing my mother. It was only because of me and the dangers I now faced crossing worlds that he had consented to come back. He was incredibly uneasy each time he did, though, and his own nerves distracted him too much to see the nervousness in others here.

“You look good,” Roland said, giving me a head-to-toe assessment. He would never let on to it in front of everyone else, but I knew he was checking me for scrapes and bruises the same as he would if I was ten years old. Whenever he was in the Otherworld, he also had a tendency to ignore everyone else and only talk to me.

“So do you,” I said. Roland had gone gray but was still lean and muscled, ready for anything that came his way. Tattoos of whorls and fishes adorned his arms, and I took comfort in their familiarity.

“Your, uh, creature said you wanted to talk to me?”

“I do.” Glancing around, I saw that between my soldiers, Dorian’s guards, and Roland’s escort, we’d gathered quite a crowd. Dorian followed my gaze and guessed my thoughts.

“Perhaps we should go inside where we can speak more privately,” he said, automatically inviting himself along. A glint of surprise flashed in Roland’s eyes, but there was no real reason Dorian couldn’t hear what was being discussed.

“I went to your other place first,” Roland told me as we walked toward the castle. “The guards there explained where you were at and brought me here.” I couldn’t help a smile at his use of “your other place.” The idea of me being a queen was still unsettling for Roland, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to say “your kingdom.”

“Then you’re fortunate,” said Dorian. “This is a much more pleasant land to meet in than that desert wasteland Eugenie usually prefers to spend her time in.”

Roland glanced around, taking in the lush greenery, warm breezes, and singing birds. “I don’t know,” he said. “I think I like the other one better. This one’s kind of boring.”

“Typical,” scoffed Dorian. “Like father, like daughter.”

Roland wouldn’t admit as much in mixed company, but I knew the comment pleased him. If things hadn’t turned out as they had with my Otherworldly involvement, Roland would’ve been content to ignore my biological heritage for the rest of my life. Blood and the Storm King prophecy meant nothing to him. I had been Roland’s daughter for years, and as far as he was concerned, that’s how it still was.

The three of us sat down in a small parlor that still bore the signs of its previous owner’s taste in decorating, mainly a lot of doilies and paisley prints. Being “trapped” indoors made Roland uneasy, and he shifted uncomfortably, literally on the edge of his lion-footed velvet chair. Quickly, I explained to him what had happened in Ohio. As he listened, his face grew darker, and all his discomfort at being behind gentry walls faded as his concern shifted to me.

“Damn,” he muttered. “I’d had such a good feeling about that one too. How did they find it? There’s no way they can have spies in every part of our world.”

“They’re pretty good at having spies everywhere in this world,” I pointed out. “We know they regularly watch the borders of my kingdoms—and Dorian’s—to track my movements. I’m just usually too well guarded for them to do anything. My guess is someone tracked me to the gate that led to Hudson, and from there, they just staked the town out until they figured out my patterns.” It still irked me that pulling that off was something Mainwenn and Kiyo’s spies would’ve had to have done over a long period of time—and I’d never noticed.

“So we need to find another doctor,” said Roland. I could already see the wheels spinning in his head as he assessed various locations and what he knew of their Otherworldly connections.

“Well, that’s up for debate,” interjected Dorian. “These human doctors keep telling her she’s fine and healthy. Why does she need to keep seeing them then?”

“To ensure she stays healthy,” said Roland evenly. “No offense, but I’m not leaving her in the hands of your medieval medicine.”

“I doubt Eugenie appreciates the thought of any of us making decisions for her.” That almost made me scoff. Dorian was notorious for making “helpful” decisions on my behalf, so it was comical that he’d now take the high ground about my independence.

“Enough,” I said. “Both of you. Dorian has a point—I have been getting healthy reports. But ... it’s hard for me to entirely let go of modern medicine.”

“‘Modern’ indeed,” said Dorian dismissively.

“Easy enough to talk healthy now,” said Roland. “But childbirth’s an entirely different matter. You’ll want our doctors then. You don’t know what can happen.”

“Given birth to lots of children, have you?” asked Dorian.

“What’s your infant mortality rate around here?” returned Roland. I saw Dorian flinch ever so slightly. Once they were adults, gentry were extremely healthy and hard to kill. Infants were another matter, and that—coupled with the difficulties gentry had conceiving—made having children in general pretty difficult.

“It’s irrelevant if she gets herself killed with all this world crossing!” exclaimed Dorian in a rare show of frustration. “If she stays put here and doesn’t venture out of her lands, she’ll be safe.”

I could see Roland starting to get almost as worked up as Dorian. “Putting aside the medical part for a moment, she’s hardly safe with her enemies right on her doorstep. Even if she is in her own ‘lands,’ how long do you think those bastards will leave her alone once they realize she’s holing up here?” The “right on her doorstep” part reminded me of Ilania’s invitation to the Yew Land and arguments about how I’d be safer once I wasn’t actually sharing borders with Maiwenn. I had no intention of accepting that invitation, but Roland’s words still drove home the same truth. Staying here might not be wise either.