Page 62 of When Sorrows Come

“You know, my sister will be thrilled when I get home and report the day’s events to her,” said Nolan easily. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You all know I’m here as an observer for Queen Windermere. She only has one hero of the realm right now, and one presumptive heir. She wouldn’t allow us both to go off at the same time if she didn’t have good reason, and being sure Sir Daye is neither plotting insurrection against her nor overthrowing anyone else absolutely qualifies. She’s going to be so happy to hear that you don’t vex her on purpose, you’re just like this. All the time. No matter how important the people you might be insulting are. Sir Cat,” he switched his attention to Tybalt, not missing asingle beat of his sentence, “are you quite sure you wish to marry the Lady October? She does seem rather akin to the month she was named for, and will no doubt cause you no end of troubles. It seems like a marriage to her is a poor way to guarantee a peaceful future.”

Tybalt blinked at him, expression more amused than offended, but before he could say anything, a new sound introduced itself. It was low and rich and slightly gravely, with a strange kinship to hoofbeats racing across the open moor. Faerie is remarkably good at presenting itself in complicated metaphors, but this metaphor was incredibly simple, for all that it was also inescapable. It was a sound no one had heard in centuries, except for maybe the Luidaeg, maybe Poppy, locked up as they were in their apartment by the bay.

It was the sound of Oberon laughing.

“A peaceful future is never guaranteed,” he said, dark eyes bright below the crown of his antlers. Everyone was silent, listening raptly, as if he were saying the most important thing ever spoken in these halls. And as he was the father of us all, who was to say he wasn’t? He represented our past and our future, all tangled up in a single confusing, often nondescript man.

“The right wife doesn’t somehow magically buy you peace and plenty,” he said. “I found the right wife twice over, or thought I did, and found no peace there, only endless conflict. My beautiful ladies are stories now—to most of you, anyway,” and there he glanced to the Luidaeg, infinite warmth in his expression, “but to me, they were the most wonderful women in the world. Theonlywomen in the world, when first we met, but I would have chosen them out of millions. I would choose them for the first time today if that choice were set before me. And they never brought me peace or plenty, not one day in our long, long days together, and I would have all those days over again if the world allowed it to me. Do not try to direct your heart’s desires based on presumption of peace. It will never once bring you joy, and it will never lead you home.”

“Daddy,” sighed the Luidaeg, sounding every inch the teenager she appeared to be, like she belonged with the teens who swarmed my living room almost every night of the week, laughing and teasing each other and throwing food even when they knew they’d be expected to clean up after themselves.

Nessa startled, looking at the Luidaeg with new understanding in her terribly widened eyes. “Did you call him...” she began, only to taper off into silence as those same eyes, still wide, seemed to glaze over. There was a long, silent pause before she slumped forward, her head hitting the table only inches from her sandwich-laden plate.

The Luidaeg sighed and moved one of Nessa’s arms so that it was cradling her head, giving her something to rest upon. “Sorry,” she said. “That was my fault.”

“Wait,” I said. “I thought no one noticed him because he didn’twantto be noticed. Are you putting the whammy on people who figure out that he’s your dad?”

Oberon picked up his sandwich, seemingly unconcerned by the scene unfolding around him. The Luidaeg sighed.

“He’s not entirely himself yet,” she said. “He doesn’t want people demanding things from him before he’s finished the process of pulling himself back together.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re in some serious shit here!” I gestured wildly with my sandwich. Tybalt caught my wrist and gently guided it back down in front of me.

“Eat,” he said. “Don’t attempt to conduct an orchestra.”

I shot him a quick look, then returned my attention to the Luidaeg. “So you’ve been wiping the minds of anyone you don’t feel deserves to know that he’s here?” That answered a lot of questions. It raised almost as many more, like how could she do that? Titania had bound her powers long before she disappeared, making everything something to be paid for.

“I’m allowed to act when it’s for selfish purposes, and wanting my father to be left with the time he needs to heal is about as selfish as it gets,” she said. “You have to understand, October, I’m so much older than anyone else you know. Only Eira comes close, and I had a century without her, when it was just me and my sisters—mytruesisters, the ones who knew me and loved me exactly as I was, who worked no conspiracies against me, who laid no plans to make themselves sole heirs to our parents’ love—and the moors, and nothing to come between us and the heart of Faerie. So no, youdon’tunderstand my loneliness, or my selfishness. You’ve helped the former in the last few years, you and Quentin and your Fetch and Poppy.”

“That’s me,” chirped Poppy.

“But you can’tunderstandit, not the way my father can—my father, who left me, and came back to me, and hewillhave the time he needs to heal before Faerie starts beating down his door again, demanding he settle every petty problem they’ve created for themselves. He will have all the time he wants.” She glared at me, eyes as black as pitch and somehow bright with sorrow at the same time, a sorrow I knew better than I wanted to, because she had been showing it to me since the day we met. The Luidaeg couldn’t lie, but she didn’t have to say everything she felt unless she wanted to—unless she was compelled to. She could keep her secrets, and so she did, when it suited her. When they were things she didn’t want to share.

“Hey,” I said uncomfortably. “It’s cool. I didn’t say it was wrong for you to be stunning people, just that I was surprised. I’d been wondering how it was no one seemed to notice him. The High King swallowed some of my blood, and he saw Quentin in my memories, but he didn’t see Oberon. And that doesn’t make a lot of sense unless something’s hiding the actual, you know, One King of all Faerie.”

“Why was the High King drinking your blood?” asked the Luidaeg. Everyone else leaned a little closer, clearly anxious for my answer.

I added some cheese and a few slices of tomato to my sandwich. This was more like normal, solid ground, and I was going to enjoy standing on it, for however long it lasted. “Oh, because he’d been stabbed in the kidney,” I answered, voice light.

The Luidaeg narrowed her eyes. “What.”

“Turns out there’s more than just the one Doppelganger—that’s why Walther and Cassie are helping with the interrogations, by the way, the Sollyses have to interview all the members of their guard and anyone else who might have access to the royal family, which pretty much means all the staff in the knowe—and the second one managed to stab High King Aethlin before committing suicide to avoid interrogation. The High King was going to bleed out, but he was still breathing, which meant he could still borrow magic.”

“So what, you just gambled with bleeding?” asked Stacy. “That seems a little bit extreme.”

“It was that or gamble on a healer showing up fast enough to do something to save him, and that pretty clearly wasn’t going to happen.” I shrugged. “It worked, he healed himself, I didn’t getaccused of regicide. Now I have a sandwich, and as soon as Nessa wakes up, she’s going to show us where in the knowe I’m supposed to be getting married.”

Stacy blinked. The Luidaeg blinked. A whole lot of blinking happened from the rest of the group, all at pretty much the same time, which made noting them all individually both pointless and more work than I felt like doing right now. I took a bite of my sandwich. It wasn’t my best work, but the ingredients were fresh, and it had been so long since the last time I’d eaten that I had to resist the urge to shove the entire thing into my mouth and gulp it down like a snake. I’m pretty sure I made an inchoate noise of delight before taking my second bite, barely pausing long enough to swallow the first one.

Nolan was the first to recover. “The High King was assaulted in your presence, and your concern is for the venue of your marriage?” he asked.

“Yes.” I looked up from my sandwich to focus on him. “I owe the High King exactly as much loyalty as anyone else on the continent does. I don’t want him to die, and did I mention Isaved his life. But I owe Tybalt a great deal more, and I promised him we’d actually be getting married this week, which means I need to stay halfway focused.”

Nolan blinked. “I think my mother would have liked you,” he said, in a dazed tone. “Whether that is compliment or dire criticism, I leave to the judgment of those who knew her before she stopped her dancing.”

The Luidaeg actually laughed. “All right, so you’re finally marrying the kitty-cat, and the High King’s not dead, and I’m guessing you’re missing the Ames girl because she’s gone to get the rest of your guests, as you continue your campaign to put everyone in one place for the first time. A single dragon of sufficient size and my sister could take care of everybody you care about at the same time.”

“She’s asleep,” I said stiffly.

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