Page 50 of Throne of Dreams
Maeve rolledher shoulders and neck till the ache from exertion passed. She was drained, exhausted from battle and a bit sore, but energy pumped through her and kept her from collapsing.
Lir installed a rack for weapons in her bedroom, since she seemed to accumulate them. Her Aurastone remained in its revered position under her pillow, but she’d hung her sword of sunlight on the new wall unit, and it emitted a soft, pulsing glow as the rise of late afternoon washed in through the doors leading to her balcony.
Tomorrow they would go into the city to check on the Spring fae refugees. It would be Maeve’s first time venturing into Niahvess and though she wasn’t nervous, she was worried there would be tension between the Summer fae who lived there and the Spring fae who abandoned their own Court. But Ceridwen had assured her all was well. With help from Brynn and a few others, they’d been able to set up shelters and provide the Spring fae with food, clothing, and a safe place to sleep.
Maeve wasn’t fully aware of all the details, but it was apparent that Suvarese was falling beneath Parisa’s rule. The fae who’d fled on foot through the treacherous Pass of Veils had left everything behind save for a few possessions. Many of them only wore the clothes on their backs. They’d abandoned their homes. Their livelihoods. All of it to escape her and the dark fae.
Tiernan had sent Merrick and his scouts to see what other information they could uncover about the situation in Suvarese, and while it left her feeling uneasy—Maeve knew he and the other scouts were highly skilled at what they did—it helped to have Ceridwen remind her that Merrick knew exactly what he was doing. It was just like Brynn said…they were family now. And she’d come to care for all of them.
Maeve was just sliding her Aurastone under her pillow when a knock sounded outside her door. “Come in.”
Deirdre bustled into the room, balancing a tray on one hand. “Hello, dear heart.”
It wasn’t exactly time for dinner and usually Maeve wouldn’t have minded when Deirdre brought her a snack. But wariness crept through her, distinct and chilling, when she saw the plate full of chocolate chip cookies and the steaming cup of tea.
Maeve didn’t drink tea.
Ever.
“You’re the talk of the town tonight, Maeve dear.” She set the tray down on the bedside table. “Taking on the Hagla by yourself? The mother in me wants to reprimand you, while the other part is simply bursting with pride. I wish I’d been there to witness it.”
“It wasn’t anything special.” Maeve eyed the tea and shrugged out of her jeweled bodice, opting for a loose-fitting maroon cotton blouse instead. “Just a dark fae.”
“Justa dark fae?” Deirdre fisted her hands on her wide hips. “My sweet, darling child, do you have any idea about the nature of the Hagla?”
“I know some, only what Rowan told me.” It still hurt to speak his name out loud, and a sliver of guilt carved its way into her heart. Maeve swallowed, but it was like stuffing parchment down her throat.
“Then you better read that book your brother gave you,” Deirdre continued, oblivious to Maeve’s discomfort. “And after you learn the history of the Hagla, then you can come back and tell me if it’s stilljusta dark fae.”
Maeve offered her a small smile. She knew an order when she heard one. “Yes, Deirdre.”
A wrinkle of concern formed across the older woman’s brows. “Is something wrong, Maeve?”
“It’s the tea.” Maeve removed her boots and Deirdre took them from her, placing them at the foot of the bed. “I can’t drink it.”
Deirdre shuffled over to the bedside table and sniffed the tea. “You don’t like it?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just my moth—I mean, Carman—used to put darmodh root in my tea when I was younger. To encourage memory loss.”
Deirdre shape-shifted into a round ball of fury. “Of all the wretched, awful, terrible things to do to a child!” She wrung her hands in front of her and sucked in a stifled breath. Her shoulders relaxed and she nodded toward the tray. “But I’m afraid this tea is necessary.”
“What for?”
“It’s to help with…” She stole a glance at the door leading to Tiernan’s room and lowered her voice to a whisper. “…your moon cycles, dear heart.”
Maeve blinked. “What?”
Deirdre leaned in closer. “To prevent you from being with child.”
“Oh!” Maeve reared back, mortified, and her cheeks turned scarlet. So hot, she felt like she was on fire. “I didn’t…that is, I didn’t realize—”
“Think nothing of it.” She waved away Maeve’s embarrassment. “But female fae have a tendency to be exceptionally fertile, and you’ll only have to drink this tea once a month, unless of course you plan on trying to—”
“No!” Maeve grabbed the cup of tea and blew on it, then took a hasty sip. It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t awful. It tasted earthy, with a hint of ginger. “At least, not for a long time.”
Not for a very,verylong time. Like maybe one hundred years.
“Well, I’ll leave you to freshen up before dinner. I imagine it’ll be quite the feast, given the events of the day.” Deirdre gave her a gentle pat on the cheek and left without another word.
