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“You have the wedding to plan, right? And everyone is counting on it being the event of the century, so it really gives you a chance to shine.” I couldn’t believe myself, but there it was. “And after that, well, this is a huge castle complex—it will need organizing and looking after. I can’t do it, for sure.” And then it all would go out the window if Titania attacked, but I wasn’t going to bring that up right then.
“Th—that’s Mother’s job, as your seneschal.” Starling hiccupped.
“Aha! But Blackbird isn’there, is she?”
It would be interesting to find out if they had discovered anything more about Brody’s fate. Of course, my new theory that the babies, if they survived Titania’s vicious testing process, were now changelings in my old world altered the situation.
I wouldn’t say anything on that yet, since I had no supporting evidence. How could I possibly test that hypothesis? Would the scepter see through the Veil? Something else to test out tomorrow.
“Motherdidsay, when she first sent me to you, that I might rise to that role someday. Seneschal of the greatest castle in the land.” Starling peeked at me through her bangs and I pretended to scowl at her.
“She totally set me up for this, didn’t she?”
Starling sighed. “She does plan ahead—very efficient that way.”
Yes. I recalled very well how efficiently she’d managed me. The noble Fae could give Japanese corporations a run for their money with long-term strategizing. “Okay, the job is yours, so far as I’m concerned.”
With a happy squeal, Starling hugged me, clinging like a barnacle.
Hopefully Rogue wouldn’t object. But this was what he got for handing me authority. Probably better for him to learn right away what kind of wife I’d be. I cringed at my own thought. “Wife” sounded so…staid. And here I’d been running around barefoot and pregnant too.
“Okay.” I patted her on the back. “You need time to get ready for the feast, also, right?”
“Oh, gracious!” She let me go and pivoted to take in her reflection. “And I look a fright. I’ll go find my rooms straight away.”
“You could stay here. I’ll magic you a fresh bath and you can borrow one of my ten thousand dresses.”
She was already shaking her head. “Not done, Gwynn. And don’t you dare make a similar offer to Athena because the little twit won’t know better and then we’ll all look bad.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She wrinkled her nose at me. “You look lovely, if I do say so. I’ll see you at the feast.”
She raced off and, alone at last, I carried my cheese tray back upstairs, resolutely leaving the wine behind and happily settling myself at the workbench. Full night had fallen outside the dome, but all the towers and walls were ablaze with tall torches at regular intervals, too bright for me to see the stars.
Opening myBig Book of Fairyland,I flipped to the section I’d titled “The Black Dog” and modified it to say “The Black Dog/White Cat.” Then I set to writing down as many of my observations as I could, from the way the claws had torn out of me during the fight with Titania to the struggle in the practice arena and how my facial pattern appeared.
I wished up a standing cosmetic mirror, so I could look in it and attempt to draw the pattern at this moment in time. Being able to chart its growth might be important. Stymied, as always, by how to apply a date the entry, I decided finally to call it Day 0. Then I created new pages at the back of the book and began sketching a timeline, with Day 0 about a third of the way down the page.
I added salient details to remember this day by—leaving the practice arena, the gang’s arrival and the Welcome Feast. Adding a few hash marks to be filled in when I figured out exactly how many days it had been, I put aDay 3?for my arrival at Rogue’s castle. It would have to do.
Going back to the original section, I sketched the facial pattern as it had been the last time I remembered looking. When had that been? Back at Walter’s castle maybe. I should have kept a better record of it. But there hadn’t been that much to it—a curl on my temple, a suggestion of branches, a hint of a curved claw at the high point of my cheekbone.
“There she is.” Rogue’s hands caressed my bare shoulders, soothing my little start of surprise. “My scientist in her natural habitat.”
I turned my head to look up at him. “You listen to my thoughts more than is healthy.”
“But I find you fascinating, my studious Gwynn.” He leaned down and kissed me, a sweet kiss that rapidly deepened. The desire for him seemed to burn constantly, easily stoked into full flame with the slightest breath from his tantalizing mouth. Humming with pleasure, he dropped a hand to cup my breast and I arched into it. “You look as lovely in this dress as I’d imagined.” He pulled back to eye my prodigious cleavage.
“Let’s just hope I don’t fall out of it during the feast.”
“That would be entertainment indeed.” Caressing my nipple, he leaned in again to brush my patterned temple with a kiss. “However, I prefer to keep such sights all to myself.”
I reached up and wound a lock of his silky hair around my fingers. “Then let’s stay here. Skip the feast.”
He laughed and, neatly untangling himself from my grip, stepped out of reach. Also in black, but matte where mine sparkled, trim compared to my flouncy self, he looked amazing in the same way male celebrities in Armani tuxes outshone any couture dress on the red carpet. “I would be flattered by my lady’s great desire for me, if I didn’t know you’d prefer anything to a feast.”
“Maybe notanything,” I grumbled, standing up and straightening the dress. I would have magicked the neckline higher, if Starling hadn’t made me promise not to, damn her foresight. “Fine. Let’s go.”
