Page 20 of When Sorrows Come

My gut twisted. Hearing my own wedding referred to as a “grand historic event” was never going to stop being upsetting.

“But, um, since I grew up in an Undersea demesne, I can say with some assurance that the Roane are absolutely still around,” he said doggedly. “There are more of them than there used to be, even, since the Selkies fulfilled their bargain with the sea witch.”

Nessa blinked. “Oh,” she said faintly. “Well, I don’t get home very often these days, or down to the coast. So I suppose I may have missed some soundings from the sea. My apologies if I’ve given offense to you, or to Saltmist.”

It wasn’t Dean she needed to be worried about, although the Luidaeg now looked merely annoyed, not murderous. It was a distinct improvement.

“Neither to me nor to my mother’s holdings,” said Dean, with the graceful precision of the born diplomat. He might only be a minor noble as such things were measured, but he had been raised to smooth over troubled waters—something that was probably much more essential in the Undersea, where going to war is practically the local hobby. They do slaughter the way land fae do unnecessary balls, or at least that’s the impression they all try to project. Maybe it’s all fluffy sea-lambs and tea parties when they aren’t putting on a dangerous face.

I doubt it, though. Dianda Lorden is scary as hell when she wants to be.

Sweet Titania, I love that woman.

Nessa bobbed her head, less in agreement and more in evident relief that we were finally moving on from her possible faux pas.“As I was saying, the debate over where to seat the High Kingdom had come down to Maple or Ash and Oak, and when the Roane spoke for Maple, the future was sealed. The first High King, long may his memory be a grace and a guidance, and never become a burden, felt it was important to show through the choices made in designing the knowe that we were proud as a people of where we had settled ourselves. That Canada was not ‘second choice’ to the Colonies, and we would do our best to live with this land, not hold ourselves superior to and apart from it.”

“Does that mean there’s a Tim Hortons in your banquet hall?” asked Raj dryly. “I can think of several among our number who would be relieved by such easy access to donuts.”

Quentin glared daggers at him. Whether it was due to the implied insult to his childhood home or because he hadn’t been the one to ask the question was less than clear.

“Unfortunately, no,” said Nessa. “Although the High King might install one if he could get the fryers to work reliably on this side of the hill. The original designs that grace our halls were created by fae artisans, and as the knowe has expanded, it has incorporated their ideas and added a few embellishments of its own.”

“So you believe the knowe is alive?” I asked.

“When you complain on Monday that you can’t find a place in the library with decent light and on Tuesday a door that has always led to a rather nondescript storage closet opens on a library annex lit by glowing crystal spires, it’s difficult not to credit the knowe with at least some small degree of personal agency,” said Nessa gracefully.

The hall had been gently curving as we walked, and Nessa paused as it finally opened up like a fern, shooting off half a dozen halls in varying directions that would have seemed jumbled and contradictory had they not been so effortlessly organic. “Quarters have been arranged for the lot of you,” she said, indicating the hall in front of us. “You may arrange yourselves as you wish. I had originally wanted to assign rooms, to be sure no one was slighted the honors due to their station, but the High Queen assured me that you would be happier seeing to your own needs.”

“That’ll be great,” I started. “Just give us a little time to settle in, and—”

“But for the bride and groom, we have arranged a special suite,” she said before I could get any further.

Oh, if they were planning to split us up, they were going to get a nasty surprise. I couldn’t take my toys and go home, not with thousands of miles between us and California, but I could drag Tybalt and Quentin in front of a justice of the peace in Toronto as easily as I could in San Francisco, and Quentin only had to see me married, not see me married in his parents’ knowe, to get the potion that would give his real face back.

“Meaning what, precisely?” asked Tybalt, before I could say anything and get us into trouble.

“You’ll still be on the same hall as your party, you’ll just be in a room specifically intended for you,” she said reassuringly as she started down the hall. Lacking any better plans, we all followed her, some with more alacrity than others. May looked enthralled by the whole process of getting to what were effectively very fancy, very exclusive hotel rooms; Raj looked faintly amused, like this was nothing impressive; the Luidaeg and Oberon looked like tourists on their first trip to Disney World, when the Luidaeg wasn’t glaring for one reason or another. Only Walther and Nolan looked entirely at ease, like this was neither impressive nor something they needed to make a show of disdaining.

That made sense. They had both grown up in regional equivalents of this place, and unless it had some pretty big tricks up its sleeve, it wasn’t going to impress them much.

Nessa stopped at a door that looked like every other door in the hall, touching it lightly where the peephole would have been, if it had possessed one. The door seemed to sigh, which was impressive for a piece of architecture, and the doorknob turned, the door swinging inward to reveal a single room larger than the entire first floor of my house.

There was a bed big enough for most of us to have slept in at once, if we had been holding that kind of party. There was a sunken tub set into the floor, more than ten feet across and steaming gently. The walls were lined in bookshelves and velvet curtains, which wasn’t quite enough to obscure the fact that more of those raw amethyst geodes peeped out from between the maple panels. It was like the owner’s room at the largest bordello the world had ever known.

“I was told you would be bringing a squire,” she said, and indicated one of the three smaller doors off the main room. “Squire’s quarters are through here. There’s also an en suite bathroom, anda small kitchen, if you’re struck by the need to snack during the day. Only tell the icebox what you expect it to contain, and it will be present for you.”

That was an interesting form of magic, one I’d have to poke at later at my leisure. “Your hospitality is a credit to your liege,” I said solemnly, dredging the phrase out of the depths of my courtly education. From the startled but approving looks on both May and Tybalt’s faces, I had gotten it right for once. “These quarters will be more than satisfactory for us. Will we be summoned for dinner?”

“Yes, as soon as the High King is ready for you,” said Nessa. “I’ll leave you to your preparations.” And she was off, turning on her heel and striding off down the hall, moving with long, smooth strides, as effortless as a bubble floating over the surface of clear, cool water. When she was well clear of us, she snapped her fingers at the level of her cheek, and the sway of her hips became abruptly infinitely more compelling, making it almost impossible to look away.

“I’ve always pitied the Gwragedd Annwn,” said the Luidaeg, voice low. “They’re my sister’s descendants. Black Annis was terrible to look upon, even for those of us who loved her more dearly than life itself, and so her children were so beautiful that they slew anyone who looked upon them without protections. Their children were less beautiful, thankfully, but still painful to behold. She used to say that anyone who thought beauty was a burden should try ugliness instead, and she handed out a lot of curses.” She sighed heavily. “I miss her.”

Oberon settled his hand on her shoulder. “I miss her, too,” he said, and his words carried the weight of centuries of mourning for the lost, who might linger for a time among the night-haunts, but who would inevitably disappear forever.

“I need to talk to you,” said Quentin, positioning himself in the doorway of the room I was going to be sharing with Tybalt.

I blinked at him. “Okay. Does it need to be in the hall for some reason?”

“No,” he allowed, pulling the suitcases into the chamber to allow me to follow him. I stopped once I was clear of the door, crossing my arms and looking levelly at my squire.

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