Page 46 of Crown of Roses
Maeve stabbed her fork into the berries on her plate, and the white porcelain stained red. “I already have a plan.”
Lir sat up straighter. “You do?”
“Yes.” Her gaze flicked to him fleetingly. “I’ll just kill her.”
Merrick tossed his head back and laughed. “That’s not a plan.” He blew an errant strand of pink hair out of his face. “That’s a death trap.”
“Merrick is right. That’s just your revenge talking.” Saoirse propped her elbow on the table and pointed with a forkful of biscuit. “I know you want retribution for Kells. Trust me, so do I. But this realm is unlike ours and we can’t afford to go in blind. We need to know what to expect, what we’ll be up against. Because you know as well as I do, that if we go in there without any kind of strategy, we’ll all die.”
“She speaks the truth.” Brynn’s gaze slid to Lir. “The land has changed…but I suppose there is one way to get in, if you intend on getting out.”
“No.” Ice dripped from Ceridwen’s voice. “It’s out of the question.”
“What’s out of the question?” Maeve asked.
“Her curiosity could work in her favor,” Lir mused, framing his chin with his thumb and forefinger while he rocked back in his chair.
“Absolutely not.” Ceridwen’s ruby lips thinned. “He won’t allow it.”
“Okay, first of all,” Saoirse cut in. “No one allows Maeve to do anything. She’s not a child. Or property. Or…whatever else. She can do what she wants.”
“It’s too dangerous. Especially for a mortal.” Ceridwen lifted her chin, putting an end to the discussion. “You are not prepared to enter the Spring Court. And any other method of entrance is strictly forbidden. My Court, my rules.”
Saoirse crossed her arms, but Maeve made a mental note to find out about this forbidden other option. If it meant they could get into the Spring Court undetected, she would do whatever necessary to rid Parisa from the land. Her end goal was always to protect Kells, and if she ended up helping Faeven in the process, then so be it.
There was so much to ask, so much to process. She wanted to confront Brynn and Lir right now about any other options they could possibly have, and there was so much she wanted to know about the anam ó Danua, so much the books weren’t telling her. Then there were the stories she’d read in Aran’s book last night, in the one he’d written. Stories of macabre monsters and creatures who hoarded secrets the way one might collect pretty little teacups. There was so much to learn, so much to understand. She wanted to know everything, but time simply wouldn’t allow for it. She had no way of receiving an update on Kells, no way of knowing how her city fared against The Scathing. Being so cut off from her realm left her unsettled, and caused a thread of anxiety to weave itself into her heart.
Maeve took a drink of her coffee when she realized Ceridwen was staring at her.
“People underestimate you, don’t they?” she asked.
“All the time,” Saoirse supplied for her, and Maeve sent a smile in her friend’s direction.
“Yes. I find I’m usually treated like I can’t defend myself, like I can’t stand up for myself.” Maeve looked down at the cup of steaming liquid before her. “It’s a careless mistake.”
“Maeve is a beast with her dagger.” Saoirse adjusted the red rose pinned behind her ear, then leaned back and propped her hands behind her head. “Because she’s pretty and bookish, foolish men often mistake her for a foolish girl. But her bravery knows no match, and knowledge is her strongest weapon.”
“Sounds like my kind of girl,” Brynn mumbled, and she adjusted the strap on her leather armor.
But Maeve didn’t want to talk about herself. She wanted to talk about Ceridwen. And Tiernan. She directed her next question to the Archfae.
“Do you have any other siblings?”
Ceridwen’s smile reached up to her sparkling eyes. “No, just Tiernan. My twin.”
Maeve froze, Saoirse scooped up a spoonful of berries, then paused. “You’re twins?”
“Yes.” The Archfae sipped her coffee, and settled herself back in her chair. “Fraternal. Twins are quite rare among the fae. Fraternal are even more so.”
Fraternal twins. Fae twins. Fascinating. “If he’s the High King, what does that make you?”
“A High Princess.”
Maeve balked. “That’s it?”
“What? That’s some bullshit.” Saoirse’s mouth fell open and she snapped it shut at Ceridwen’s shocked expression. “Sorry. What I meant to say was, that’s some bullshit, Your Highness.”
Brynn snorted in laughter, and even Lir cracked a smile. Ceridwen’s eyes, a mythical kind of twilight shade, and a perfect match to her brother’s, sparkled like a thousand stars. “I agree, it’s old-fashioned in its sentiment. But he was born first…by eight minutes.”
