Page 25 of The Faerie Handmaid

“Indeed. In violation of the Rule.”

“And your answer to that is to kill them?” Braithe’s voice was hard. Morgana lifted a brow in her direction, but she had no intention of remonstrating. Her handmaid had every right to be angry.

“It is not my answer, Braithe, but it happens.” Emerlyn rubbed her temples, as if she could dissolve the misery under the pressure of her fingers. “I have worked long and hard to change the Rule. The wonder is that I have not been ejected from my post.”

“My mother was right, then,” Braithe said. “The fae do what they like with humans, and we humans pay the price.”

“The Lady was right, also,” Morgana said.

“Your Lady went too far,” Emerlyn answered. “Many of the fae resent her for it, some to the point of turning their ire on all humans.”

“Councillor, that is a circular argument.” Morgana leaned forward and tapped one long finger on the table. “Our Lady devoted her life to protecting the humans of Lloegyr. The Blackbird tells us she warned the council repeatedly to stop the offenses of the fae. When her warnings did no good, she banished the fae from Lloegyr. All of them.”

“And yet here you are,” Emerlyn said.

Morgana let her lips curve in a mirthless smile. “And here I am, to carry on her work.”

“Is that why you came?”

“Someone in the White City is interfering with King Mordred’s reign. Considering the strength of their magic, I judge there are three of them.”

“Cursing the boy king? Why would they do that?”

“You have answered your own question. There are those fae who still resent being forbidden to interfere with humans. As if humans are playthings. As if they are pets. Or prey.”

Emerlyn dropped her chin, thinking. Morgana sat back in her chair and folded her arms. When Emerlyn looked up again, she said, “Tell me, Priestess. Do you see humans as equals to you? I can’t imagine that.”

Morgana hoped Braithe could control her temper at the insult. This was a time for diplomacy, challenging though it was. She said, “You cannot imagine it, Councillor, because you have not lived among humans. You have not seen their courage. Their caring for one another. Their pride in their homes, in their work, in their kingdom.” She squeezed her hands together on the tabletop in an effort to manage her own temper. “What humans lack in magic they make up in honor.”

Emerlyn dropped her chin again, evidently a characteristic gesture. Morgana glanced at Braithe and was gratified to see that although Braithe’s eyes were unusually heavy-lidded, brooding, she stood with her hands linked and her head high, lips pressed tight.

Emerlyn lifted her head. “I have heard you, Priestess,” she said. “I have never been to Lloegyr. I would like to know more about these people you serve, when we have the time.”

“You can start by getting to know Braithe. There is no better representative.” Emerlyn inclined her head to Braithe. “But for now,” Morgana said, “we have work to do, and lives depend upon us doing it swiftly.”

Idhri huddled on his cot during all of this discussion. He knew he was not meant to hear, but he had always had very sharp ears. Was that a half-blood characteristic? He also healed swiftly from any injury, a circumstance Emma and Hugh called his good luck. Not that it was any help if the fae wanted to murder him. No one healed from being dead.

He wondered briefly if he would rather be enslaved than allow Skye to dispose of him, but he decided not. Death would be preferable to the loss of all freedom. He could only hope that before someone dealt him that fate, he would discover who he was and how he had come to lose his memory.

He blinked back the tears of despair that stung his eyes. He didn’t want Braithe to see him weep.

When someone knocked gently on the wall outside his little room, he came to his feet. He smoothed his tunic and leggings before pulling back the curtain. Braithe stood just outside, and beyond her, still seated at the table, he saw Priestess Morgana and the councillor. He thought Councillor Emerlyn looked at him with distaste, but perhaps that was his imagination. He was accustomed to feeling vulnerable because of his lost memories, but this was worse. The fae regarded him as if his very existence was something shameful. Their scornful glances made his belly tighten and his skin crawl.

Priestess Morgana stood up. “Idhri, we must go back to the Royal Council Chamber, but I do not want you and Braithe here on your own. I think you must come with us.”

Idhri looked to Braithe for confirmation, and she nodded encouragement. He whispered, “That place will be full of fae.”

“Yes. But we’ll be fine with Priestess Morgana.”

“The councillor has guaranteed your safety,” Morgana said. “She will change the cantrip on the door, but neither of us trusts what Skye might do. He has, apparently, a vicious history.”

“He wants to kill me,” Idhri blurted.

“True,” Emerlyn said. “But we will not let that happen.”

“But someone else—someone like him—”

With an impatient little grunt, Emerlyn stood up. “You will be under my protection. Only the queen holds more authority than I do.”