Page 39 of Of Sockets Of Stitches
“Somewhat is clearer,” I said softly.
“She spoke!”Gangrel.
“Did you hear that?”Princess Raise.
“What did she say?” Unguis.
“Shh!”Huckery.
My lips curved, though I felt no humor, for the reckoning of the world had more form this night, and I trembled at everything I might not be strong enough to do.
But for monsters, the impossible may always be possible.
I inhaled and held the breath, then let it out in a rush—oof.
“She always does that. What does it mean?”Deliver.
“Dear monsters,” I said to them. “I am well. I have been occupied in queenly musings, that is all. Thank you for your concern, and please return to your tasks.”
Hex squelched. “You have been so still and unresponsive, my queen.”
“I am well,” I repeated. “Princesses, please convene in my chambers. There is much to discuss.”
Princess Change sniffed the air, and Princess Raise hummed.
The princess of Take snorted. “You can say that again.”
Reckoning was thick in the air.
I stood, and this somehow convinced everyone, all at once,that I was well. They scrambled away in a scratch and slime and scurry to their tasks.
My body objected the movement after so long in one place. I blinked weary eyes up at the moon as I left the small lounge. Everything was the same, but I was not. My knowledge was not.
So everything must be different.
“I will go on each night as unafraid as the moon,” I said.
Princesses were in their usual positions when I floated into the larger of my private lounges. Princess Take sat on one of the armchairs, and Princesses Change and Raise occupied either end of the couch with a space between them that Princess Bring would one day fill again.
“Good evening,” I murmured, taking the other armchair. “You have sensed the reckoning in the air.”
Three princesses nodded.
Princess Raise said, “It cloys.”
Much of my time in deep musing was spent deciding how much to tell monsters. Candor was not present in my meetings with pawns and princesses or with kings. I could lie if I wished, or withhold. Kings could not hear anything from this chamber either. But they would no doubt hear of it from their princesses, or glean the truth in time. Here was the conundrum—here wasmyregret: Knowing that I must heal my romance for the sake of the world rather robbed away any authenticity of doing so. To only speak with King See because I had to, could surely not have a healing effect on what we represented to the world.
So I did not wish to rob that authenticity from princesses, though what they shared with their kings was only frayed and not broken.
On the other hand, princesses could sense my reckoning. They understood when I said something that was crucial. So perhaps that was enough.
“You must each consider your unions,” I told them. “I am here to help you heal them.”
Each of them sniffed the air. I could not tell much of Princess Raise, but the eyes of Princess Change filled with terror, and Princess Take’s pouty mouth turned down in defeat. I could not say what Princess Bring might be doing. I hope she was rustling in sand and blissfully unaware of fear in her toddler form.
“Kings have carried much burden for this world,” I continued. “They have held together what they could for as long as they could, and the limitations of their powers have shown most in what they share with a princess. Speak the hardship of your unions.”
Princess Take said drily and without hesitation, “My king and I share a union of the flesh. He will not grant himself more.”
