Honesty. She must be honest. As if by second nature, Elizabeth sank to her knees and then sat back on her heels. “Great lady, forgive me. I think I have seen you before, but my memories are not clear,” she said humbly.
The queen of Faerie leaned forward. Searching eyes seemed to tingle through Elizabeth as Titania gracefully trailed her fingertips down Elizabeth’s cheek. “Are you not my little Libbet, child?”
Libbet. Her childhood nickname, spoken in a golden tone, resonated deeply. “I... I am Libbet, great lady, but I cannot remember,” she said hesitantly.
“Bluebird!” called Titania. “Bluebird, my love, come to me.”
A dryad appeared from the trees, tall and willowy now, but unquestionably Elizabeth’s childhood friend. “I am here, lady.”
“Bluebird, is this not our little Libbet come back to us?”
“Libbet!” cried Bluebird. “Oak and ash, you have come at last!”
At last?
Titania patted the ground beside her. “I am so happy you have returned! Come sit by me and tell me your story.”
Elizabeth obeyed. It felt natural, even familiar, as Titania’s sprites began to play with her hair and stroke her dress, their touch like delicate butterfly wings dancing over her.
“Who is your friend?” asked the queen.
Elizabeth glanced at Frederica. “Her name is Lady Frederica Fitzwilliam, and she is the daughter of a powerful mage. She speaks only English, I fear.”
Titania’s gaze drifted over Frederica, her head tipped to one sideas she tapped her fingertips against the corner of her mouth thoughtfully. In English she announced, “Your name does not suit you. We will call you Meadowsweet for your hair of white gold – nay, you shall be Marigold Meadowsweet, for you are both strong and delicate.”
Frederica inclined her head. “I will be honored to be Marigold Meadowsweet. You have named me aptly. It indeed suits me much better,” she said, blithely discarding one of the proudest surnames in England.
Titania clapped her hands. “Bring wine and faerie cakes for our guests. Libbet, what brings you back to Faerie?”
“Bluebird had given me a talisman to allow me to use the faerie rings. I was frightened by a man, so I fled here, and Lady Aislinn brought me to you.” Elizabeth’s scalp tingled as the sprites pulled out her hairpins and teased her hair loose. This was familiar, too, the sensation of being treated like a doll come to life.
“What man dared frighten my Libbet?”
“He was a powerful mage, lady. He had discovered my use of magic. In the mortal world, women are forbidden to use magic.”
Titania drew back. “Still?” she asked in blank disbelief. “How barbaric. It is good you are here now.”
Did the faerie queen think she would stay there forever? Perhaps it was better not to discuss that.
A sprite pressed a delicate flute of sparkling wine into Elizabeth’s hand. The flowery scent was achingly familiar, and it tasted of apple blossoms and elderflowers in the moonlight. As the first sip slid down her throat, Elizabeth remembered.
She remembered sitting by Titania just like this, being primped and coddled until something else caught the queen’s attention, and being put aside to play with Bluebird until the queen’s fancy returned to her. She remembered spending long days in Faerie and loving it better than Longbourn – and she remembered the day Oberon had taken her away.She had trusted him, and he had gone into her mind, shrouded her memories in mist, and told her not to return. But why had he done it? Why had she been in Faerie at all? The answers remained elusive as the sprites spread her hair over her shoulders, weaving strands of flowers through it.
“Marigold Meadowsweet must be made ready as well,” commanded the queen. “We dance with my lord the King tonight.”
Tonight? They were expected back at Rosings tonight. And whatever Lady Aislinn had hoped they would communicate to Titania, it had not yet happened.
ELIZABETH WHISPEREDto Frederica, “Your mother might not recognize you. I certainly would not have.”
Frederica fluttered the colorful gauzy silks the sprites had somehow attached to her dress, matching the flowers and ribbons winding through her loose hair. “True, but she would approve, saying it is only right to dress in a manner which makes my hosts comfortable, although this is perhaps not what she had in mind when she said that! And my father – he would not mind what I wore if only he could have this opportunity. He will be green with envy when he hears.”
What would Elizabeth’s own mother think if she saw her daughter in Faerie? Would it bring back her own memories or simply make her swoon as Anne de Bourgh did at the mention of magic?
A flourish of hunting horns made the fay fall silent. Titania floated regally to the center of the glade. Elizabeth and Frederica joined the queen’s sprites and dryads behind her. No one seemed to find the presence of two mortal women in her train odd.
On the other side of the glade, a tall Sidhe – tall even for a Sidhe – strode in, dressed in black and silver. Oberon. Even now his presencesent a shiver of fear down Elizabeth’s spine. Why had he betrayed her trust?
Behind him followed a group of retainers, mostly elves, but with a few Sidhe and a mortal man in a red coat. Was that a uniform? Yes, even a King’s soldier!
