Page 18 of A Killing Frost

“They’re on the beach,” she said. “I really wish you wouldn’t do this.”

“Your objection is noted,” I replied, and stepped past her, starting down the stairs.

Marcia and I usually get along pretty well, but she’s protective of Dean, and for good reason; he needs someone to be protective of him. His parents love him. They also spend most of their time in the Undersea, where they can’t intervene if anything goes wrong, and Merrow don’t believe in coddling their children. Dean’s half-Daoine Sidhe. He could do with a little coddling.

The stairs grew damp underfoot as we descended, but never became slippery. Magic has its uses. When we came around the last curve of the stairway we beheld the receiving room itself, large enough to have qualified as a ballroom if it had had a dance floor, half the floor covered by a redwood deck that wouldn’t have looked out of place behind a fancy restaurant, the other half covered in unstained white sand, sloping gently downward until it reached the water. Dean had his own private cove down here, blocked from thesea by a wall of unyielding black stone. When Dianda and Patrick wanted to visit without it becoming a big diplomatic to-do, they could just swim under the wall and have easy, discreet access to their son.

It was a perfect arrangement, and so far as I knew, the knowe had taken care of everything without any outside input. It had recognized a need and filled it, which implied a level of awareness and interest that was surprising even to me. For the people who thought I was weird for believing knowes were people, it was probably mind-blowing.

Then again, many purebloods still can’t accept that changelings are people. Asking them to believe it of the place where they keep all their stuff is probably a step too far.

Quentin and Dean sat side by side at the edge of the redwood deck, facing the water, hands clasped and Quentin’s head resting on Dean’s shoulder. It was a lovely scene. For the first time, I asked myself whether Quentin was going to be angrier at me interrupting him than he would at being left behind.

It didn’t matter. He was my squire, and Karen had seen him with me on this quest. His training meant it was my responsibility to bring him along whenever I decided to do something potentially fatal. Doubly so if leaving him behind could mean failure. And if that was selfishness, sometimes it’s okay to be selfish. Selfish keeps the lights on.

I trotted the rest of the way down the stairs, not making any effort to muffle my footsteps, and hit the floor as hard as I could, letting my heels thump down on the wood. Quentin raised his head as both of them turned. There was a moment of shared confusion on their faces, melting into resignation on Dean’s and surprise on Quentin’s.

“Toby!” he exclaimed, letting go of Dean’s hand and scrambling to his feet. “I thought you and Tybalt were having date night tonight!”

“Okay, seriously, did he tell literally everyone else that I had dinner plans without even bothering toaskme about it?”

“Yes,” said Quentin and Dean, in unison.

I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t do that, it’s creepy. Also, get your things. We have a quest, courtesy of pureblood law andsomebody’sparents hearing where I was having dinner tonight.”

Dean had the good grace to look chagrined. Quentin, on theother hand, looked confused, looking from me to his boyfriend before asking, “Dean? What’s she talking about?”

“I, um, told Dad he couldn’t come over tonight because I knew you’d be free,” said Dean. “I didn’t want anyone interrupting our date. He asked how I knew, and so I...” He trailed off, looking even more embarrassed.

“So you set him up to go and interrupt mine,” I concluded.

Dean nodded. “I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t a secret from anyone but you, and it’s not like my parents are enemies of yours. I didn’t think they’d bother you. Did they bother you? Do I need to call them and yell?”

Thanks to April, the cyber-Dryad daughter of the Countess of Tamed Lightning, phone service in the Summerlands and Undersea has gotten much more extensive and reliable over the past few years. I sighed.

“No,” I said. “But maybe in the future, don’t volunteer where I’m going to be unless it’s been announced in public, not told to you in private? Your parents aren’t my enemies, but a lot of people are.”

That was putting it mildly. I seem to collect enemies the way May collects gaudy necklaces these days, and some of them are pretty damn dangerous.

Dean nodded again, more vigorously this time. “Of course. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re getting punished the same way I did: with the interruption of your evening.” Quentin was watching me worriedly. I shifted my attention to him. “How much do you know about pureblood marriage laws?”

“Enough that if I weren’t going to inherit the throne someday and need a legitimate heir, I’d never be willing to get married,” he said. “They seem simple until you start looking into them, and then you find all these little snares and pit traps of tradition buried in the middle of the cake. It’s awful.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if Eira had something to do with creating a lot of those ‘traditions,’” I said. “Apparently, not only can I never divorce without the permission of my children, I can’t actually get married unless I at least attempt to invite my parents.Bothmy parents.”

“Um, wasn’t your father human?” asked Quentin. “Isn’t he...” He trailed off awkwardly. He’s more comfortable with the conceptof death than most purebloods his age, but he’s still functionally immortal. Unless something comes along and kills him, he’s never going to die.

“He’s dead,” I said bluntly. Both Quentin and Dean winced. “He died a long time ago. I leave roses on his grave every Christmas. But because legally, in Faerie, Simon Torquill is my father, if I don’t invite him to my wedding, he can claim offense against me—or someone else can do it on his behalf.”

“Who would do that?” asked Dean, horrified.

“Who wouldn’t? Eira, if he ever manages to find her and wake her up. Luna, just because she can. Hell, my ownmothermight decide to get pissed on behalf of the husband she never told me about. Or August might. And the last thing this household needs right now is someone making a valid claim of offense against us.”

Quentin put a hand over his face. Dean, who had grown up in the Undersea, looked confused.

“If someone gets offended at you, can’t you just fight and then apologize?” he asked.

---