Page 61 of Better in Black
Kieran wheeled on the Champion of Storms. “What have you done?”
Geraint looked honestly perplexed. “You said to put a pin in him. I assumed you meant…” He gestured at Finian’s dead body, the broken spearhead protruding from his back rather like a gigantic pin. “Did I do wrong?”
Kieran sighed. “I had hoped to question him and find out in whose service he did betray his King and Court, but since he can lie, perhaps it would have yielded no truth regardless. Perhaps it is simply better that his cursed tongue is stilled forever, and his pain is at an end.”
—
Much later in the afternoon, when Kieran came into his bedchamber, Mark and Cristina were there, already packing their things.So much had happened since their arrival at the Unseelie Court. It had been breathless and a bit exciting, but Cristina was desperate to get back home.
Kieran, still dressed in his kingly finery, leaned back against the door, looking from Cristina to Mark. There was a hopelessness in his eyes that made Cristina’s heart sink, even though, outside the windows, the skies were blue and the sun was shining.
“So you are already packing to leave?” Kieran said, gently enough. “You must be desperate to get away.”
“The skies have cleared,” Mark said. “If we leave soon, we can make it back to the cottage before the sun sets.”
Kieran crossed the room and sat down on the windowsill. Slowly, he began slipping his embroidered silk gloves from his hands. “I don’t blame you for wanting to be away from this place,” he said, glancing around at the black-and-gray room. “You have seen the very worst side of me here. No wonder you are hurrying away.”
Cristina dropped the skirt she was about to pack and turned to Kieran in alarm. “Not at all. We are hurrying away because—well, Kier, you never wanted us here. You have told us you wish us to remain separate from the Court, and we respect that.”
“We stayed before because we could help you here,” added Mark. “But no longer. There is no need for us to remain at the Tower to look into this Finian matter. Nor do we know yet who invited us here, or why—”
Kieran sighed. “Actually, we do know who invited you here. It was General Winter. He admitted as much to me just now in the throne room.”
“General Winter?” echoed Mark. “But why?”
“Most of us fey have little sense of demons,” Kieran said. “But General Winter is a most ancient redcap, and in his past he hasbattled infernal forces. He sensed that something was amiss when the heirs arrived, but knew he could not determine its nature himself. He says he believed that you, as Shadowhunters, would unmask the truth of it. And you did. But I think there was another reason that he wanted you here.”
“What kind of reason?” said Cristina. “I did not think he even liked us.”
“It does not matter if he likes you,” said Kieran. “He is clever enough to know that an unhappy king cannot be a wise king.”
Mark and Cristina exchanged an astonished look. “But why would you be unhappy?”
Kieran almost smiled. “Because I am unhappy when I am away from you, you dolts.”
“Kieran!” Cristina exclaimed. “Of course we would have come if we thought that you needed us. You have always insisted that we stay away from Court.”
“I know,” said Kieran. “I have not wanted you here. I always told myself that it was for your safety that I wished you never to set foot in this place. But I realize now that there is more to it.” He took a deep breath. “I do not like the person I am when I’m here.”
Mark started across the room toward Kieran, then hesitated. “Well, when you’re here, you’re the King of the Unseelie Court,” he said. “It’s a role you have to play. We know that.”
“Knowing and feeling are two different things,” said Kieran. “I’ve told myself that there are two different people—Kieran of the Hunt and Kieran the King—and that the King was no one you needed to know. But after these days, I must admit to myself that both are as true versions of me as any. Why was it that my father sent me away from Court? It was because when he looked at me, he saw a threat to his throne. He saw not a hunter, but another king. It’s as if he knew this part of me long before I ever did.”
Cristina wanted to run across the room to Kieran, to put her hand on his shoulder, to touch his face. But she held back, probably for the same reason Mark was holding back. Did Kieran want their comfort? Or was he saying, again, that he could not bear for them to be here, to see him as he was? “That’s not true,” Cristina said firmly. “Your father was threatened by you because the people of Unseelie loved you, and they loved you because you were kind. He was threatened by all the things that made you different from him, not the things that made you the same.”
“Do you really believe that we have seen in you some kind of monster, Kier?” said Mark. “What we have seen since we came here is a just and wise king. You broke the Spear of Storms in half because it was the wise thing, but also because you looked down the road and saw what might come of setting brother against sister, and you chose the kindest path. Even toward Finian you felt compassion. You never wanted to be king. You tried to give the crown to Adaon, but he would not take it, so you shouldered the burden alone. And though you may hate every moment of it, you are still trying to do the best you can. And we love you all the more for it.”
Kieran looked from one of them to the other, and for the first time since arriving at the Tower, Cristina saw his unguarded face. The face they always saw at the cottage: Kieran as he was when he was not defensive or afraid of being hurt. Slowly, he said, “You can look at me after all that has happened and tell me that you love me?”
“Yes,” said Mark, or perhaps it was Cristina, or perhaps they spoke at the same time. Cristina reached her arms out, and Kieran was on his feet and coming toward them in a moment. They curled into an embrace, as Kieran held Cristina close and leaned forward to kiss Mark, who stroked the back of Kieran’s neck. Softly, Cristina said, “Your royal bed is large enough for three, but you have only ever slept in it alone. Perhaps we should redress that error.”
“An excellent idea,” said Mark.
Kieran bent to kiss Cristina, and laughed softly against her mouth. “As my consorts demand,” he said.
—
The bright blue sky had darkened with the coming of evening, and Cristina, Mark, and Kieran lay curled together in the great black royal bed. With her head on Kieran’s shoulder and Mark’s arm around her waist, Cristina had started to feel as if things were back to the way they used to be, the three of them all together.
