Page 54 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
Maeve, now solid again, moves forward slowly, distracting me from my thoughts. “Cress, I?—”
“The next words out of your mouth better not be some bullshit apology,” the autumn queen snaps. “And don’t you think we should have some privacy?”
“I’m not going anywhere, and I don’t trust them to leave my sight.” I jerk my head at Caed and Prae, who have the good sense to stay silent. “As long as nothing you say breaks Nicnevin Rhoswyn’s trust, no word of this meeting shall pass our lips.”
“Agreed,” Caed and Prae both mutter.
It’s good enough for Maeve, who struts forward, resting her hands on the map table between her and Cressida.
“Danu told me I’d fuck everything up if I stayed alive,” she begins, her shoulders tense. “Before the third Fomorian war started, I was months away from stabbing the ambassadors. I was sohappywhen the blue bastards showed up on the beaches again because, finally, I wasuseful. I knew I was shit at peace—at treating the seelie like anything other than the whining arsewipes they are—but the Goddess showed me what would happen if I didn’t step down. A new civil war. And it’s not like I could abdicate any other way.”
I… hadn’t known that about her. No one had. As far as most people were concerned, Nicnevin Maeve died in the final battle.
But Danu talked her into it.
Nicnevin Diana confessed on her deathbed that Danu showed her Faerie would fail if she didn’t pass the throne to Rose.
My brows furrow at the disquieting thought. That makes the Goddess responsible for the deaths of the two most recentNicnevins. What happens if she talks Rose into the same thing? What if the biggest threat to Rose isn’t the Fomorians, but the Goddess herself?
Cressida sinks lower in her chair, unbuckling more of the enchanted armour she wears to cover her lower half and revealing the specialised brace her mate invented for her.
There are whispers about how the accident happened, but no one knows for certain. Some believe her power acted out when she met her newest mate, but I know that’s unlikely.
While I’ve accidentally burned others with my fire, it takes a conscious effort to use the power to harm myself. I can’t imagine Cressida’s gift is much different. Which means either it was no accident or someone else withered her lower legs.
If the latter, I can’t imagine they still live. The queen is the most powerful fae to wield withering magic in living memory.
None of that power shows as she looks at the ghost before her. No. All that remains is regret and sorrow. “You could’ve told me. You could’ve said goodbye.”
Maeve bites her lip. “I updated my will before I left. The horse was the goodbye. I wanted you to ride her and think of when we used to sneak out of the Temple and ride through the forest together. Those were the happiest years of my childhood.”
Something thick presses against the inside of my throat, and I swallow it down with impatience, turning slightly so I’m not looking directly at the two of them. I end up meeting the Fomorians’ uncomfortable gazes instead. All three of us are imposing on an acutely private moment. These two queens, both known for being formidable warriors and complete hard-asses, are baring their souls to one another.
And we’re the forgotten interlopers.
“That wasn’t all you left, though, was it?” Cressida drops her head into her hands. “Do you haveanyidea how much of a pain in the ass your daughter was? Especially as a kid. Spying onmy fucking emotions, using her visions to predict every single birthday gift I ever gave her. It was insufferable. Every time I went to see her in the Temple, she got more and more seelie. As an adult, she might as well have been one.”
My eyes bulge out of my skull at the admission. Nicnevin Diana was a well-respected ruler, even to many unseelie, but I suppose Cressida had been mourning her best friend. Seeing Diana grow into Maeve’s polar opposite must have been difficult. It speaks to the closeness between the two that Cressida even went to visit her lost friend’s daughter in the first place.
Maeve shrugs. “I wouldn’t know.” There’s a hollowness to her tone. “I never met the kid. I never wanted one, remember?” She hops up to sit on the table, scattering the tiny metal figures that show the unceasing advance of the Fomorian army. “But I’ve raised this one. Me and the others?—”
“Others?” Cressida’s head snaps up.
“Mab and Titania,” Maeve says. “We kept an eye on her while she was hiding in the mortal realm. It was all we could do to teach her our language. She can barely use her powers.”
“Fuck.” Cressida slams her hand down on the table. “Fuck, fuck,fuck! What in the world was Dianathinking?”
“She wasn’t safe in this realm,” I interject. “Her mother protected her the only way she knew would work.”
“So the Nicnevin the Temple has been promising everyone is the saviour of Faerie is about as useful as a wet handkerchief.” Cressida pins Maeve with a look.
“That’s not true,” I retort. “She?—”
“She wants to learn,” Maeve adds, and Cressida rolls her eyes.
“Of course she does. All Diana wanted to do was embroider tablecloths and sneak out to dance at faun parties. Now I suppose her daughter wants to be a warrioress of yore like her grandmother? Wanting to learn is no use to me, Maeve. Do youknow how much of my court has been taken over by Fomorians?Half. Almost everything north of the Silfeyn is lost to us. We lost contact with Diana’s son, Prince Uther, and his battalion last week.
“We’re surrounded on all sides. They control the river Torvyn and the sea, and underhisleadership”—she points an accusing finger at Caed—“they’ve been squeezing us dry. Now you’re telling me that if I want the Nicnevin’s help, I have to train her myself?”
