Page 63 of When Sorrows Come

“She is,” the Luidaeg affirmed. “If she wakes, I’ll know. Unless she wakes due to magic so far outside my experience or so much greater than mine that I can’t perceive it, I’ll know, and you know you’re the first call I’ll make. But she could still have agents, and I can’t find them unless they do something to make themselves apparent.”

“We have enough trouble already without trying to borrowmore.” I leaned across the table to gently prod Nessa in the arm. “When’s she going to wake up?”

“When you finish that sandwich, make another one, and drink something,” said the Luidaeg. “You can lose a lot of blood without suffering the consequences that would come for a person who lacks your specific gifts, but you still need to hydrate. Eat, drink, and she’ll wake up.”

I rolled my eyes. As Sleeping Beauty clauses went, “you just need to eat something, not kiss anybody” was reasonably mild and probably nicer than it had to be, but it was still annoying. I settled myself to consuming the rest of my sandwich in bites as large as I could manage without choking, and Tybalt began assembling a sandwich of his own. He was old enough not to overly judge my fondness for combining fruit and meat, thankfully, something which had been much more popular in his youth than it was in modern America. It was one of the few habits I’d picked up from my mother that I didn’t mind holding onto. Amandine was bad at raising children and bad at being a decent person, but she was great at building a sandwich.

Maybe that’s a mundane virtue for a daughter of Oberon, but when you have as few of them as she does, I guess you need to do what you can with what you’ve got.

Tybalt settled beside me with his own plate, smiling warmly. I smiled back. Everything else aside, we were getting married. He was finally going to stop worrying that I somehow didn’t want him, and I was going to stop getting ambushed with bridal magazines every time I entered my own kitchen. What were matters of dynastic succession compared to that?

Quite a lot, actually. My second sandwich was sliced chicken, spicy mustard, and nectarine, giving me the salty-savory-sweet combination I preferred, and I ate it almost too fast to taste, before filling a glass to the brim with what I assumed was orange juice. I took a large gulp and managed to swallow rather than aerosolizing it. Melon juice. Of course it was. Faerie doesn’t do anything normal when we can find a way to make it weird.

“Good enough?” I asked the Luidaeg.

“What’s your hurry?”

“Sedition, still don’t know who on the staff is trustworthy, a bunch more of our friends are about to arrive here, and they won’t know what’s been going on.”

“Hell,Ibarely know what’s going on,” said Stacy. “You haven’t been exactly forthcoming, October.”

“You know as much as I do,” I said. “High King got stabbed. Doppelgangers in the knowe. Apparently, there’s a question of legitimacy of the throne, thanks to King Shallcross being an asshole.”

“There’s only a question in his own mind,” said the Luidaeg, before leaning over and tapping Nessa twice on the forehead. The Gwragedd Annwn gasped and sat up, eyes suddenly very wide.

“Did I fall asleep?” she asked, pushing her hair out of her still-illusioned face and looking around the table. “I’msosorry, that wassounprofessional of me. You’re guests in this knowe, and it’s my duty to remain attentive to your needs—”

I took another swig of melon juice to pacify the Luidaeg before putting the glass down. “Well, right now, what we need is to be shown to the place where we’re getting married tomorrow. I want to know that the Doppelganger didn’t make a mess of everything.”

Since I had no idea what the decorations were supposed to look like, or even what “everything” entailed in this situation, the request was somewhat more pressing than it might have been under normal circumstances. Nessa rose. So did Nolan. I blinked at him.

“I will be accompanying you,” he said solemnly. “Not to fault the choices of your swain or this sweet maiden fair,” he somehow managed to make that sound endearing, rather than sexist and a little creepy, “but I doubt the King of Cats has attended many pureblood weddings among the Divided Courts, and I do not know the Lady Nessa’s qualifications.”

Nessa giggled, hiding her mouth behind her hand. “I would be delighted to have you accompany us,” she said.

“I admit, I have an ulterior motive of sorts.” Nolan offered his hand, helping her to her feet. “Tuatha de Dannan are limited by our ability to visualize the place we want our portals to open. Our journey here was possible primarily due to the fine mortal art of photography and the assurance of the courts who helped us on our way that the pictures were clear, accurate, and recent. By visiting the wedding hall myself, I will be able to return there in an instant, should trouble arise.”

“You kids have fun with your little coup,” said the Luidaeg, waving a baguette vaguely in our direction. “I’m going to stay here and hold down the table.”

“I’m going to go make sure you haven’t managed to bleed on the rest of your wardrobe, and also be seen being a possible decoy,” said Stacy. She rose, brushing her hands against her hips to knock the crumbs off. “That way I’m there when the rest of my family arrives.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I glanced over at Poppy, Oberon, May, and Jazz, but all of them seemed content to remain exactly where they were, munching their way through an actual meal. It wasn’t sophisticated, but sometimes that matters a lot less than being made of food. I offered them a little wave and took Tybalt’s arm, pulling him to his feet along with me.

“Well, we’re off,” I said. “Be safe, all of you, and if someone approaches without being verifiably themselves, throw things.”

“No one’s sneaking up on us today,” said May. “Come find me when you need a decoy. Otherwise, I’m going to stay here and use bride privilege to demand more snacks.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, and followed Nessa, on Nolan’s arm, back the way we had come.

The kitchen seemed smaller now that we knew where we were going, or maybe that was just me feeling less leaden and weighed-down after putting something in my stomach. Nessa paused to exchange a few words with the Hob who had directed us to the others in the first place, smiling at the other woman’s reply, and then led us onward, out of the kitchen.

Once we were safely outside, the door closed behind us and the maple-and-amethyst walls of the hall enveloping us, Nessa looked at me. “When you said the High King and Queen would be verifying the identities of their staff, you meant...?”

“The entire staff,” I said, and watched as some of the tension left her shoulders, replaced by an ease that seemed far more natural to her. She was someone who liked rules and order enough to have risen to the position of seneschal of a royal knowe. This must all be very upsetting for her.

“Thank Maeve,” she sighed. “It’s all too common for the higher nobility—no offense, to any of you—”

“None taken,” said Nolan.

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