Page 14 of The Prince or the Bard?
"But the earthen courts are connected to the sea courts; our magic links with theirs. I must learn more, to report to the high king."
"And what will he do?" I laugh, forgetting my impertinence; for a moment, she is just another púca to me. "It's nothing that can be changed, or it would have been by now."
I sit back, satisfied with my cousin's obvious puzzlement as she wrestles with what she believes and what I do. Who knew there could be such different beliefs among púca courts?
"I can't let this stand," Fiadh says, her face relaxing. "The health of the earthen courts depends upon that of the sea."
"Tell that to the courtiers out there, ma'am," I say, barely holding in a snort of contempt. "I think they'd disagree."
"But you and I are púcaí. We know better."
"Alas, we are wisemen amongst fools here, ma'am," I say, more quietly this time. "You cannot convince them otherwise."
"Still, it cannot stand," she repeats.
A wash of hot worry floods me then. I find myself grabbing her hand, just as I'd avoided doing before. "Promise me you won't go out there after sunset," I say. "It's dangerous. Even the mer won't leave their homes at such an hour, and they're the strongest swimmers of all."
I do not bother to remind her of the weakness her condition has brought to her body; this, she already well knows.
Briefly squeezing my fingers, Queen Fiadh sighs and removes her hand. "I won't do anything foolish, Laoise. You needn't worry about me."
Which, I notice, is not a promise. Nor a vow not to go.
"Ma'am."
"I've heard you, Laoise. I do not wish to discuss it further. Better we should plan when we might get away."
Has a queen's maid ever been executed for getting her queen killed by wild fae magic? Or by anything at all, for that matter?
Though I smile and carry on, my throat is tight.
Certain I was of Cillian's love, once. But I see now that there is a sureness even greater than that. I know, with every shifter bone in my body, that Fiadh is going to try to escape.
I have to stop her. Which means I have tocatch her. And I'm only one person. Her cousin, it's true, but at the end of the day I'm but her lady's maid.
I need someone with authority.
And as much as I'd rather tip over this table and run on four hooves in front of all these High Fae courtiers, I know I must ask him.
Prince Ruairí.
Just when I thought I was rid of him for good!
Chapter Nine
It doesn’t take longto find the prince. It’s almost as if these nobles and royals are afraid to stray too far from the ships; if they are not in their houses along the cliffs, they are walking the marginal way there, admiring the same wildflowers they noted yesterday, commenting on the size of the waves.
I’ve spent so long feeling out of place in the castle, I don’t think I realized just how dull its occupants are.
Prince Ruairí is on the zigzagging path along the cliffs. From the street above, I can see him trekking down the rough-hewn stairs through the rocks, nearing an isolated swath of beach below.
I narrow my eyes at the tide. Hedoesknow it’s coming in, right? Doesn’t he know how to read a tide chart?
With an admittedly equine snort of dismay, I hurry down the path between houses, climbing over stone walls and ignoring the stares of servants and readers in windows.
“Prince Ruairí!” I call, forgetting the lengths I’ve gone to in order to separate myself from him. There’s no helping it now. Not when Fiadh’s safety is at stake.
He doesn’t hear me. Doubtless, the crash of waves muffles my voice.
