Page 5 of The Prince or the Bard?
I cannot help it. I burst out laughing, my hand flying to my mouth as I spoil the braid yet again. Imagine, High Fae nobles being jealous ofus.
Clearly, they've never been to Diarmuid's Row.
Fortunately, the queen cracks a smile through her pain. She isn’t affronted by my laughter, which even now makes my nostrils flare.
Then she gathers herself a touch. “Jealousy can be a dangerous thing here at court, Laoise. Which is why you cannot be seen to have the prince’s favor.”
“I don’t have his favor at all, ma’am.”
“Don’t you?”
I take a long moment to think before replying. “At least I don’t think so, ma’am.”
Her voice becomes almost mumbling. “It doesn’t matter what you or I think. It matters what the high court perceives.”
“I’m still not sure I understand, ma’am. Begging your pardon, if you could explain what’s so bad about one afternoon in the gardens—”
“Half the court backs Prince Ruairi to take the throne, Laoise. In private, they are not loyal to the High King, on account of his puca wife and future púcaí heirs. They want royals they can control, and they do not think they can control púcaí." Fiadh frowns. "It may be more than half.”
My eyes widen. That’s treason. How could these nobles reside at the high king’s own castle and—
“Do you see the problem, Laoise? They want Ruairi on the throne because they want to retain every ounce of their power. If they even suppose you’ll ruin their chance for that—Laoise, I don’t want to think of what they may do to you.”
My fingers shake as I pin the second braid, completed at last. High Queen Fiadh will be late for dinner at this rate.
“It was one afternoon,” I say quietly. “I assure you, I’ve no plans to see Prince Ruairi again.”
“I wish that was good enough to quell the rumors. It won’t be.” Queen Fiadh turns, her eyes red-rimmed as she takes in my nervous expression against the half-veiled light. “But I know what will.”
She smiles weakly at me. “You’re going to be the center of a romantic scandal, my dear cousin.”
My eyes widen. “Me?”
“You.” She nods decisively. “You’re going to be courted by the bard.”
Chapter Four
My whole body trembles.Though I feel not quite here, somehow I don't have the nerve to raise my head, either. Not even when Prince Ruairi acknowledges me. I barely manage to mumble out a reply.
This fantasy of mine has been paid for by a few coins and a promise of the high queen’s patronage. It turns out, a bard’s love can be bargained for quite cheaply. Which means my heart’s been sold for just as little.
Cillian Cloudtongue is going to remain here at court. And everyone is to believe we’re having a torrid love affair. My cheeks burn at the very thought!
For what could be worse than being ignored by the Cloudtongue, my love never acknowledged? There’s only one thing, I tell you.
It's feeling his tender gaze falling upon me while knowing it’s a ruse.
I do not hate High Queen Fiadh. But right now, I wouldn’t mind it if someone shoved her head into a bucket of jam.
This is intolerable. Unbearable. It’s wicked—it’s torture! Any minute now, Queen Fiadh will lean over to whisper in the High King’s ear, and King Tadhg will call for entertainment.
And when the Cloudtongue is through playing, he’s going to award me a rose to declare his affections for me to all. They’ll see that I did not have the place of honor at the bard’s garden performance because of Prince Ruairi, but because it was given to me by the bard himself.
I hate everything about this plan. So why is my pathetic little heart beating so hard anyway?
At last, Queen Fiadh leans toward King Tadhg, her hand resting upon his thick forearm.
“Send for the Cloudtongue!” the High King bellows, summoning a wave of cheers from the room.
