Page 60 of The Red Woman and the White Bear

Laure was seated on a plush armchair beside a small drawing table. She toyed with the hem of her lace sleeve idly. The room was full of flowers, some fresh-cut and arranged in vases and some growing out of the walls themselves. Butterflies flitted between them, alighting delicately on petals before taking back to the air. Aisling ran her tongue over her teeth; they itched when she imagined the little girl with the butterfly in hermouth.

A smile warmed Laure’s face when Aisling entered. Niamh remained stiffly by the door. “Sit with me, sweetling. I’ve been watching the storm. It’ll likely be the last of the season.”

The chair cradled Aisling’s sore muscles when she sat and a contented sigh escaped her lips involuntarily. The consistent thrum of fat raindrops slamming against the windowpanes was soothing; if she hadn’t been in the company of the Seelie Queen, Aisling could have closed her eyes and fallen asleep easily.

“How did you find our archives?” Laure asked, sitting back in her chair. It was the same soft shade of pink as her rosebud lips and the blush on her cheeks. Her long black waves were loose and hung over one shoulder.

“The books are beautifully kept,” Aisling said. “I hardly felt qualified to handle some of them.”

“We have some very old texts there. I must admit I haven’t read nearly as many as I’d like. Tea?” Laure offered a cup to Aisling, full to the brim and perched on a matching saucer. Aisling politely refused, unwilling to let her mind grow hazy in Laure’s presence. The queen was sharp; Aisling needed to be, too.

“You said that you wanted to discuss plans?” she prompted. Aisling watched Laure, her posture regal and commanding even while relaxed. A fire burned in her violet eyes, a determination that bordered on recklessness. It made Aisling uneasy.

“We’ve been waiting for you for a very long time, Red Woman.” Her smile turned conspiratorial. “Ihave been waiting for you. This has all gone on for long enough; it must end now. The UnseelieCourt must be brought down before they can destroy any more of Wyldraíocht than they already have.”

Aisling forced herself to return Laure’s smile, but the expression felt wrong on her lips. “What do you have in mind?”

“The rumors of your connection with Kael—are they true? You have some sort of influence over that wretched magic of his?”

In a bid to hide her reaction, Aisling leaned forward, stirring honey and cream into the cup of tea Laure had left for her and taking those few seconds to compose herself. To fix her mask. She thought about how Rodney might answer the question, or Kael: they’d dance around an answer without ever giving it forthright. Aisling did her best to respond as they would. “Rumors exaggerate. It’s true that his shadows didn’t kill me.” She straightened up and held the cup in her lap, then added, “But that’s where the connection ends. I can no more influence them than he can control them.”

Laure hummed. “That sounds at least powerful enough to distract him during battle.”

“If he were distracted by that connection, he’d be far easier to remove. Once he falls, his court will follow.” Niamh spoke from where she leaned against the doorframe, eyes filled with the same fire as Laure’s. Aisling could feel the predatory drive rolling off of her in waves. She wanted that kill for herself.

Aisling hesitated. “Has there not already been enough bloodshed? I can only imagine another battle would be detrimental to your court, as well.”

A subtle tension crept into the room. Laure’s smile faltered, wavered, then faded away to nothing. “Aisling, love, sometimesdestruction is the surest way to creation. The Unseelie Court is a blight on our realm. We can only build the new once we dismantle the old.”

“Is there no way to broker peace without more death?” Aisling was pushing her luck. She felt it in the way Niamh’s eyes shot daggers into the back of her neck. She saw it in the way Laure’s face darkened. Her look of annoyance sharpened into one of anger.

“Diplomacy has failed us for centuries. Kael only understands strength, so we must be the ones to wield it.” Laure’s outstretched hand rested on the table and she began to drum a finger against it. Where the tip of her finger met the wood, a single vine curled into being. With each impatient tap, it grew, thickening and elongating. Reaching. “It is either him or me, and trust me: I am the one Wyldraíocht needs on the throne. He will drive it to ruin, just as he has his own court.”

Drawing in a steadying breath, Aisling willed the smile back to her face. Loosened her grip that had tightened around the handle of the teacup. Then, with what she hoped was a convincing look of acceptance, she nodded. “You know this war better than I do. I’ll do whatever I can to help you end it.”

“Thank you.” Laure nearly glowed with gratitude. “I know this is a challenging world you’ve been pulled into, but we’re going to make it so much better together.”

“I hope so,” Aisling said. She did her best not to recoil when Laure reached out and brushed the backs of her cool fingers over her cheek.

“I am truly sorry for what happened to your mother. Humans can be so cruel when they are afraid.There is a place for you here in my court, now and when this is all over. We will care for you here; you will be safe to live out the rest of your days amongst friends.”

“Thank you, Highness. I can’t imagine anything I’d like more.” Bile crept up the back of Aisling’s throat, bitter and stinging. Quickly, she gestured to the dust that still clung to her jeans from the ride. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go get cleaned up.”

“Of course. We will leave the strategic planning to Niamh and her council. There’s no need for you to dirty your hands with the particulars.” Laure rose alongside Aisling and again closed the distance between them to smooth a hand over Aisling’s hair. “We are so grateful for you.”

She’d had enough. She’d heard enough. Aisling hardly made it back to her chamber, rushing straight past Rodney and Briar to drop to her knees before the washbasin and heave up what little was in her stomach. The force of it made her head spin.

“I can’t do this, Rodney,” she rasped, head still dipped over the basin. She spat bitterly into the water. “I don’t want to do this.”

Rodney knelt beside her, carefully twisting her hair back out of her face and tucking it into the collar of her shirt. “I know. It’ll be okay.”

“No, it won’t.” She sat up and faced him. Her body was shaken and unsteady, but her mind was clear, and her resolve was strong. “I don’t want to be a part of this war. It isn’t mine. I can’t…” her voice broke and she sucked in a breath. “I won’t help them kill him.”

“Kael?”

She nodded. She still hadn’t told him everything that she felt for the Unseelie King, everything that they’d shared, but she knew he could see it now written on her face.

“We have to leave, Rodney. I won’t let them use me like this. I don’t care about the prophecy, and I don’t care about the consequences of ignoring it. I want out.” Aisling’s stomach turned again and she gagged, but nothing more came up. Trembling from the effort, she leaned against Briar to stay upright.

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