Sunny - Mona Lisa Eclipsing

“Do we know who they are?” I wondered.

“Luckily not our problem, though High Court must be going crazy,” Nolan said. “Though I wonder if they even know this is being played on television yet.”

I flipped open my cell phone, something my men had forced on me shortly after I became Queen, and now was grateful to have. “I’ll give them a call.”

I indentified myself to the person answering and asked, “Has the Queen Mother seen the news playing on TV?”

“Oh, yes, milady,” the man said with feeling. “We’ve most definitely seen it.”

“Good, just wanted to make sure she knew about it.”

“Wait, please,” he said before I could hang up. “The Queen Mother wishes to speak to you.” He pronounced her title with careful reverence, as well he should for the sovereign of the Monère people here in the United States.

The Queen Mother’s voice came on the line. “Mona Lisa, I was just about to call you myself. Have you seen the news?”

“Yes, I just saw it.”

“Are you able to speak privately where no one can hear you?”

I looked at the others, all of them listening in on the conversation. “Uh . . .” Dante saved the day by removing the gold chain that hung around his neck, and holding it out to me. At the end of the chain hung a small gray stone the size of a robin’s egg: the privacy charm I’d seen him use in the past. “. . . not yet. Give me a second.”

“You can use my study,” Aquila offered. He had drifted in, along with Rosemary, drawn by the commotion.

Dante and I hastened down the hallway to the study. Dante slipped his necklace over my head as soon as I sat down behind the desk, and activated the privacy charm with a small pulse of power. A ring of energy expanded, encircling us.

“Touch it with a small thrum of power to deactivate it,” Dante instructed, and stepped out of the invisible circle, leaving only the sound of my own breath and heartbeat in that cone of silence. I couldn’t hear anyone else, nor could they hear me.

“All right, I’ve got privacy now,” I said, wondering what she had to say to me that could be so important in the midst of what had to be a critical situation.

“I’ve spoken to Halcyon. He’s told me that you seem to be stable now,” the Queen Mother said.

I glanced at the phone, then put it back to my ear. Whatever I’d been expecting, it hadn’t been this chatty comment. “Yeah, it’s been quiet. No one snatching me away or anything.”

She gave a soft snort. “Yes. It’s seems to have been one crisis after another for you ever since you’ve taken up the mantle of Queen. But what I meant was the demon blood you ingested secondhand through Mona Louisa. You no longer seem to be becoming Damanôen. ”

“Oh, that,” I said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “I, ah, didn’t realize Halcyon had made you aware of that.”

“Do you know how old I am, my dear?”

My brows scrunched together. Instead of saying, What the hell does that have to do with what’s going on? I answered politely, “No, Queen Mother. I have no idea how old you are. No one does, was my impression.”

“I am seven hundred and thirteen years old.”

“Oh.” I know, pretty lame, but what was I supposed to say? “I thought Monères only had a three-hundred-year life span.”

“They do. Did you know that our original Monère society was clan based?” the Queen Mother continued. “Wolf clan, dragon, phoenix, tiger, and others, all maintaining separate courts based around their pure-blood clans and Queens.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“A little over six hundred and fifty years ago, the clans unfortunately began to destabilize as fewer and fewer children were born among these separate groups. The few offspring who came were from those who had chosen a mate outside their own clan lineage, as Blaec did, Halcyon’s father, when he married a woman from the phoenix clan, not his own dragon clan. We were a dying people, not only growing infertile but also killing off our numbers with a growing number of skirmishes and wars between clans. It was during this critical period in our history, as the old ways were falling apart and our people were in grave danger of dying out through their own foolish actions, that Blaec, the new young Demon Ruler of Hell, approached a young Queen and made a pact with her. He opened a vein in my arm and mixed one drop of his demon dead blood with my own.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of my sharp, indrawn breath.

“With that one drop of blood,” the Queen Mother said, “Blaec took a strong Queen and made her even stronger. With the High Lord of Hell’s powerful backing, I changed and reordered things to what they are now, forming courts out of mixed-clan individuals. I created High Court and the High Queen’s Council and established stable rule, putting a stop to all the squabbling. It was a secret Blaec and I have long kept. A secret shared only by his children, Halcyon, his son, who lends his support to High Court in Blaec’s place now, Lucinda, his daughter . . . and now you.”

“If no one else knows,” I asked carefully, “why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’m old, my dear, old beyond my natural years.” The Queen Mother was the only Monère who looked old among us, the only one who had wrinkles. White hair was common after hitting your second century, but not wrinkles; Monère skin remained relatively unlined, leaving you looking thirty-five until you died. The Queen Mother had been the exception to this rule. Now I knew why.

“I hoped you would be my successor,” the Queen Mother said, astounding me even further. Before I could say anything . . . even think of anything to say, she continued speaking. “But then you began developing demon traits and my hopes were dashed. But now, my dear, it seems we both have a second chance.”

“Queen Mother,” I began with a calm that quickly evaporated, “there’s no way in hell I can take your place.”

She chuckled. “No way in hell . . . Ah, but you are wrong. It is because of your connection to Hell and its current ruler, Halcyon, that makes you the natural choice as my successor. What I accomplished would have been impossible without Blaec’s strong backing.”

“I don’t want to be the next Queen Mother.” It wasn’t quite a wail, but it was real close. “You’re not going to die soon or anything like that, are you?”

“Child,” the Queen Mother said with gentle amusement, “I have been dying for many years now, but it is a slow, ongoing process, not imminent, if that’s what you’re asking. As to being the next Queen Mother . . . what if I gave you another choice? A choice to make your own path?”

“What choice?” I asked cautiously.

“What I chose for our people was the best solution for that time. But, alas, time has moved on, and the world around us has changed while we have not. We’ve been stable, but stagnant. Tell me, Mona Lisa. If you could change the rules, would you choose to do so?”

I cursed not being able to see her face. How honest could I be here? “Queen Mother . . .” I said, pausing.

“You may speak frankly with me,” she encouraged.

“The rogues . . . how the Queens kill off their strongest men—that I wish most to see changed.”

“And how would you change this?”

That was the kicker. “I don’t know. If I could, I would offer them all shelter, but Lord Thorane warned me about—”

“Building up an army out of proportion to your territory. Yes, I asked him to warn you thus before you collected any more powerful men, as you seemed inclined to do, at quite a rapid pace. What, however, if the breadth of your territory suddenly expanded?”