Page 85 of Crown of Roses
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Wait.” Casimir knocked back his hood and planted his hands on the table. “What?”
After Maeve slept for a few hours, she crawled out of bed in search of food. She’d found Casimir on the balcony, staring at a bowl of biscuits covered in some kind of gravy. Tiernan, Ceridwen, Lir, Brynn, and Merrick were all enjoying various types of sandwiches, sugared fruit, and sparkling juice. Brynn looked up, and her elbow jabbed into Casimir’s side. He’d been none too happy to find out she’d been whisked away to Autumn without his knowledge. She couldn’t blame him. She’d be furious if the tables were turned. But his anger and frustration had only mounted to a boiling point when she confessed to learning that the anam ó Danua would be absolutely useless in protecting Kells against the Scathing.
Casimir rapped his knuckles twice on the wooden surface of the table, and Ceridwen slipped both hands around her tea cup to keep it from spilling over. “So, you’re saying we have to go to the Spring Court anyway? That killing Parisa is the only way to save Kells?”
“That’s right.” Maeve smiled up at Lir when he poured her a cup of coffee, then added two cubes of sugar. “All this time, we could’ve been planning for that instead. Which is what we wanted to do from the start.”
At least, she’d wanted to go straight to the Spring Court and attempt to murder Parisa. But her plan had been shot down by the promise of the soul of a goddess.
Merrick rocked back in his chair, balancing it on two legs, and tucked his hands behind his head. “How do you figure?”
Maeve told herself if they asked, she’d tell the truth. She wouldn’t hold anything back. “I found the will ó wisp.”
Lir stumbled on his way to his seat. Merrick’s perfect balance bobbled. And Ceridwen spilled her precious cup of tea. The porcelain clattered against the saucer, and she rose in a decadent swirl of gold, blush, and violet—a summer sunrise. Her gaze cut to Tiernan, who was busy stirring his own coffee. “You let her go to the Autumn Court.”
It wasn’t so much of a question as it was an accusation. But the High King denied his twin either way. “First off, I didn’t let her do anything. The Princess of Kells does what she wants.”
He stole a glance at her and she offered him the slightest incline of her head. Maeve met the Archfae’s pointed gaze over the rim of her cup. “Rowan took me.”
Ceridwen’s perfect lips pinched, and a shadow fell across her lustrous face. “Why am I just now hearing of this?”
“We, High Princess,” Merrick corrected politely. “Why are we just now hearing of this?”
Maeve blew on her coffee, refusing to be put off by their apparent concern. “What was I supposed to do? Wake all of you up in the middle of the night and tell you I planned to frolic through the Autumn Court?”
Merrick leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “You frolicked?”
Brynn snorted, then thumped him on the back of the head. “Shut up, Mer.”
“Obviously,” Casimir drawled. “That is exactly what you should’ve done. How would you have felt if I disappeared in the middle of the night, then returned the next day like nothing happened? Nothing except the fact that our entire reason for being here has completely been tossed aside?”
It was a fair point. “Fine. The next time I do something rash, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Ceridwen coughed. Lightly.
“All of you,” Maeve amended, with a glance at the cloudless sky.
“You made a bargain with her.” Lir sat at the opposite end of the table, his silver eyes zoned in on the constellation around her thumb. “You made a bargain with the will ó wisp.”
Maeve sipped her coffee. The sweet, rich liquid was like a balm to the distinct throbbing at the base of her neck. “I did.”
“This keeps getting better and better.” Merrick reached across the table and snatched one of Brynn’s sandwiches. “What sort of bargain?”
“That’s between myself and the wisp.” Maeve winced when Merrick’s eyes widened. She hadn’t intended to sound so rude. “Mostly because I don’t have all the details yet.”
Merrick groaned, and even Brynn pinched the bridge of her nose in disappointment. “Mortals,” she muttered. “When will you learn?”
“None of that matters anyway.” Maeve waved off their displeasure of her agreement with Lianan. “We need to focus on slaying the High Queen of Spring.”
“So ruthless.” Tiernan’s silky voice caressed her thoughts and she cut him down with a glare.
“Not only to save Kells…but to save the Four Courts as well.” Her loyalty was to Kells. To Veterra and the rest of the human lands. But if she could save other innocent lives in the process, then she would do it, no questions asked. “As long as Parisa lives, the dark fae will continue to attack Faeven.”
Moments of measured, weighted silence passed between the group. The air was thick, and the humidity settled between them. It clung to Maeve’s skin, and a trickle of sweat slid down her neck. The cool breeze, as there so often was one, had suddenly died.
Ceridwen shook her head, and her golden waves tumbled. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
