Page 49 of A Killing Frost

“She’s always been weird about the idea of any of us dating,” she said. “She saw me holding hands with a Hob changeling I went to high school with once, and she lost it. Like, complete maternal meltdown. Way out of proportion with a little completely innocent hand-holding. I never dated after that. Technically, I’d never dated before that.”

I blinked. This was new information, but then, I’d missed most of Cassie’s adolescence and childhood, thanks to Simon and Evening. “Never?”

“Never.” She shook her head. “Karen and Anthony are old enough to be thinking about it, but they’re afraid to even admit when they might have a crush on someone, because Mom gets all weird at them. Were her parents weird about her dating?”

“No, her parents were dead.” Stacy had lived with her fae grandparents when we were kids. I never met them, because they didn’t like changelings, and didn’t want Stacy bringing her filthy friends home with her, and at some point in the intervening years, they had left, moving to a kingdom that didn’t harbor reminders of their lost child and unwanted granddaughter.

Something about that story didn’t add up. I’d never really stopped to think about it before this, but it had never been my business. If Stacy’s grandparents wanted to wall themselves off from the only family they had left, that was their call. But Stacy was thin-blooded. For her to be as weak as she was, her fae parent must have been a changeling. How could two people who hated changelings so much that they refused to meet their grandchild’s friends have raised a changeling child?

“Did she date?” pressed Cassie.

“As much as any of us did, I guess. There were a few Hobs in the kitchen who liked to get handsy, and she’d get handsy right back at them, like it was some sort of game.” They hadn’t lasted long. Melly and Ormond didn’t tolerate disrespect from the staff, and the first time one of those boys had made a cheeky comment in Melly’s hearing, they’d been off to find another household to serve under. “This is really weird, Cass. I don’t know why she’d be like that. Unless your father—”

“He used to ask me why I didn’t go to any of the school dances,” said Cassandra. “I think he was disappointed that he never got to intimidate any boys on my behalf.”

“I am not volunteering to be intimidated,” said Walther. “Toby’s bad enough without adding your father to the mix.”

Cassandra pouted at him briefly. “But you’re my boyfriend,” she said. “If anyone’s going to get intimidated, it should be you.”

“And your father is a foot taller than I am and could twist my head off like a bottlecap if he decided it was necessary,” said Walther. “By the time I was your age, my sister and I had both gone walking out with a variety of suitors, with the full supervision and understanding of our parents, who wanted to see us happy.” His face fell. “They never had the chance.”

Cassandra walked over to stand beside him, sliding an arm around his waist and resting her cheek against his upper arm. It was an intimate gesture, and it spoke more than anything else to how close they’d grown. I turned my face away, giving them what privacy I could while waiting for my ride to San Francisco. Walther’s early life hadn’t been easy. Born into the royal family of the Kingdom of Silences, he’d been old enough before the war to have started his studies in alchemy and etiquette, and to have a fairly decent sense of who he wanted to be when he grew up. On some level, the war had been of personal benefit to him, because it had made that person possible. If not for the Mists invading his family’s kingdom, overthrowing their nobility, and installing their own puppet king on the throne, he would have been expected to stay where he was and be the perfect princess he’d been intended to be. The war had freed him.

That didn’t mean it had been a good thing. His kingdom, his people, and his family had all suffered under the yoke of King Rhys and the nameless pretender Queen who’d been holding Arden’s throne through the whole thing. Yes, he’d been freed to live his own life, and not the life his parents would have mapped out for him, but it had cost more than anyone should have been willing to pay.

Walther shrugged off his momentary melancholy, turning to kiss Cassandra on the forehead before he said, “I can keep May stable while I work on the cure. A sample of the elf-shot Simon used would make this go a lot faster, if you can find it.”

“Check,” I said. “I’ll try to bring you the entire Torquill, if I can.”

“Not if he’s wearing his evil pants, all right? I just got tenure; I don’t want to have to change schools because this one has been overgrown by enchanted roses that put all the students to sleep.”

“I don’t think he has that kind of power. Not with his patroness out of commission.” The thought of him successfully waking Evening was too much for me to contemplate. It couldn’t be allowed to happen. No matter what else came out of this, she had to stay gone.

Walther shrugged. “I don’t know anymore. I’m just an alchemist. I’m here to mix potions, bandage wounds, and try not to die.”

“You’re so much more than just an alchemist,” I objected, laughing a little.

The laughter died in my throat when a perfect circle of glittering light opened in the air. It smelled like redwood bark and blackberry flowers, and I relaxed almost as quickly as I had tensed. Arden Windermere, Queen in the Mists, stepped through the circle half a breath later, wearing the blue jeans and Borderlands Books sweatshirt that served as her usual “I am not currently on-duty” attire.

Clothing aside, she looked the way I’d always assumed a Queen would look when I was a little girl: she was beautiful, with hair so deep a red that it became almost black, like the hearts of those charcoal roses, missing only the slumbering fire to make the comparison complete. Her eyes were mismatched, one glacial blue and one silver bright as mercury, and her ears were sharply pointed, because she hadn’t bothered to don a human disguise before opening a portal between two known, safe locations. She looked at me and frowned.

“So you’re the reason I’m playing taxi service tonight?” Arden shook her head. “Why are you all bloody this time?”

“I’m not,” I protested. “At least not compared to normal, and none of it’s mine. And you’re playing taxi service because... actually, I don’t know why you’re playing taxi service. I assumed the Luidaeg would call Etienne and ask him to come get me.” When I said it out loud like that, I didn’t know whyIhadn’t called Etienne. I’d reached the point of asking the Luidaeg for help, and after that, I’d just trusted her to take care of things.

Maybe that wasn’t the best habit to be in, but it was mine, and I was holding onto it.

Arden shifted her attention to Cassandra. “I know you’re off-duty until morning, but can you pick up paper towels on your way home? Nette ‘accidentally’ left them off the shopping list again, and I’m tired of not being able to clean up my own spills.”

“Will do,” said Cassandra, nodding. She was in service to Arden’s Court as chatelaine, meaning she was responsible for the smooth running of the household. It’s a position rarely filled outside of large holdings, and Arden’s Court barely qualified yet—she’d only taken her father’s throne a little over two years ago, and she was taking her time building a household she could trust. Eventually, Cass would be in charge of dozens of servants and courtiers. For the moment, she was handling a skeleton crew, large enough to keep the knowe running and to welcome visiting dignitaries, but not too much more.

It was probably her position under Arden that had freed her to begin seeing Walther, if Stacy was really that opposed to her children dating. It was such an odd thing to try to reconcile with everything I knew about my old friend, but if anyone was likely to know the truth here, it was Cassandra. Parenthood makes us into different people. There were times when all I wanted to do with my own daughter was find a room with no doors or windows that I could lock her inside, to keep her safe from the rest of the world, forever. It ached, how much I loved her, and how little she wanted to do with me.

“Who’s Nette?” I asked.

“New housekeeper,” said Arden. “She’s a Hob, and very good at her job, but she feels like purebloods shouldn’t depend on human fripperies, and that as a queen, I’m above wiping up my own spill when I knock over a wineglass. Are you ready to go? I was in the middle of doing absolutely nothing when the Luidaeg called and told me to put pants on. I don’t get to do absolutely nothing nearly as often as I used to. I’d like to get back to it.”

“I’m ready,” I said, and stepped close enough for her to link her arm through mine. She tugged me with her as she stepped back through the circle, and Walther’s office was gone, replaced by the familiar confines of the Luidaeg’s living room.

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