Page 102 of Jailer to the Death God
I want to shout at Beirgid, inciter of plagues. I want to roar my fury because she was so pliant in Macha’s hands, because she began the sickness which caused so much death in this land.
But the last thing I want is to anger her. Stirring her wrath could put Vale at risk, or spur Beirgid to create a worse plague. So I crush down the angry words, and I force an expression of lazy calm onto my face.
“You’ve come to gloat, then.” I resume my place on the sofa. “Go on, have your fun. I won’t protest. But I’m surprised you can brush aside Macha’s death so easily. The three of you were close.”
Aine and Beirgid exchange glances.
“Macha hadn’t been the same for a while,” Aine says with a pout. “Not much fun at all, always talking about cosmic wars and blood vengeance. That mortal princess ruined her. Toward the end she kept making veiled threats at us and our realms. It was better for her to return into the light of the universe.”
I had no love for Macha, but it surprises me to see how callous her sisters are about her death. Perhaps it’s for the best, if their selfishness and apathy work in my favor and protect Vale from retribution.
“When your contract with the mortal has ended, what will you do?” asks Beirgid. “Remain here, or return to Annwn?”
There’s a shadow in her question, and I search her eyes, trying to discern its true source. Neither she nor Aine have any interest in death. In the past, they’ve made it quite clear they despise my realm.
“You’re not the ones asking,” I say. “Heis.”
Aine glances away and Beirgid purses her lips. “Perhaps.”
“Tell him I will retain full control of Annwn and continue to run it as I have always done,” I say. “I have a plan for its governance in my absence.”
Beirgid looks satisfied at that, and with a few more quips about my new sexual freedom, the pair of them disappear.
I stand up again, exhaling my relief. When I turn toward the Queen’s bedroom door, three faces are peering through the gap. Vale and her maids.
“Those were goddesses,” Hessie breathes.
“Beirgid and Aine?” Vale asks, her eyebrows lifting.
I nod.
The three of them release a collective sigh and varying murmurs on the theme of, “So beautiful.”
A chuckle escapes me. “I suppose they are.”
The maids hurry back into the Queen’s bedroom to tidy things up, while Vale glides toward me. She’s clad in a gown of rich blue, with puffed shoulders, sleeves of silver lace, and silver threads running all over it. Her white hair has been gathered into a loose, elegant knot, and she’s wearing a silver crown.
“Are the goddesses angry?” she asks, low. “They didn’t seem to be. They were—teasing you.”
“They are not angry.” I take her hand.
“Thank the stars,” she breathes.
“My brother sent them, to ensure that I will continue to take my duties in Annwn seriously, even though I’m now married to you.”
“Your brother?”
“He’s a bastard. We don’t need to speak of him. I’ve given him reassurance, and he will leave us alone now.”
“That’s good.” She squeezes my hand. “And now, Lord Consort, we must give my people some reassurance about being ruled not only by me, the ill-prepared queen, but by the god of death.”
“Ill-prepared?” I raise an eyebrow. “You were the one who dared step beyond the lines and do what was necessary to save this rabble.”
“Maybe don’t call them ‘this rabble,’” she says, patting my fingers with her other hand. “And you must admit, nothing like this has ever been done in the world before. We’re breaking all the unspoken rules, you and I.”
She smooths the shoulders of my suit, and then we leave her chambers. The Chief Manager meets us in the hallway and guides us through the corridors until we reach a long room which opens onto a balcony.
“That balcony is where you will stand to address the people.” The Chief Manager motions us forward. “Gods bless you, Your Majesty. Although I suppose—they’ve already done that.” He gives Vale a tentative smile.
