“Eurgh,” said Gerard pointedly.
“Quite,” said Ceri, wrinkling her nose.
Iseult glanced from the Gard to the Merrow Princess, wide eyed as a fawn.
“Come,” Ceri said to the girl, shaking snow from her cloak as she stood. “I’ve just discovered the dreamiest thing - have you ever had molten chocolate?”
Ceriwyn and Iseult walked off hand in hand. Gerard was far less subtle.
“I’ll just leave you to it, shall I?” He boomed, then flashed a broad grin and strolled off toward a cluster of his Gard brothers and sisters in grey.
Adeline watched him go, shaking her head.
“He doesn’t mean to be so tactless.” She smiled wider and added; “Actually, I’m not sure that’s true.”
Kai didn’t know if he should laugh or not, but he was saved the need to answer by a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye. A shrivelled little woman wrapped in layers of blankets and cloaks sat perched on a thick fallen log among a throng of Merrow, her toes barely touching the snow. She waved to him, kicking her feet merrily. Several others followed her eye and turned bright faces to him, beckoning and waving their arms above their heads.
Kai’s throat bobbed.
“They’ve missed you,” Adeline said. She watched him with a curiosity that lit the gold and amber rays in her brown eyes and Kai felt his chest contract, his heart tugged every which way; to the Merrow, to the pendant, to the lake, to Adeline.
“Would you like to meet them?”
He offered his elbow and Adeline didn’t hesitate to lay her hand on his arm, letting herself be guided to the corner of the clearing where many of the Merrow gathered beneath a canopy of bare branches, a small fire flickering in the centre of their loose circle. The Elder Council sat on the log, Eda at the centre of the gaggle of grey and white old women.
“Mael!” She cried, holding her arms wide for him. Kai couldn’t help but wince, even as he leaned into her embrace and patted her curved back with his free arm.
“It’s me, Eda. It’s Kai.”
Eda drew back and cupped his face, her papery skin soft against his cheek.
“Bah! My old eyes and withered brain.” She looked up at him, face crinkling merrily. “You do look so like him, you know.”
Kai swallowed.
He did know. Before he’d shaved and tidied himself up for Eisalaan’s court, he had peered into the silver framed mirror of his palace bedroom and nearly wept with shock. Warped by exhaustion and the dark rust of age that speckled the mirror, it was his father’s face that stared back at him, separated by centuries and ice and glass. He felt Adeline’s hand tighten at his elbow, a soft, reflexive squeeze, guiding him back to the moment.
“Is this the famous Eda?”
Eda’s hazy blue eyes darted from Kai to Adeline with a wicked glint. “Well now! Was there ever a prettier pair? Come, girl, sit. Right here, beside me.”
She shuffled over to make space on the log, and patted the rough wood beside her urgently; either not realising or far from caring that she was demanding the audience of a Princess of Eisalaan. Adeline was quickly folded into the brood of clucking hens, blankets strewn over her lap and thin, wilted arms circling her back. She flashed a smile at Kai before turning her attention to the Merrow elders, and within moments she was theirs, winning them with her ease and her genial way, as though she had been reared among their own darling grandchildren.
It was captivating to watch, but Kai had barely a moment to spare before his attention was, quite rightfully, called to the gathered Merrow.
They took their turns greeting and embracing him, some stopping a moment to chat about their new homes or the friends their children had made, or to ask about his life at the palace, allowing their eyes to flicker knowingly toward Adeline. Not one person probed him for answers or enquired about his plan to return them to their lost home in the Laune, and yet their sentiments hung around every word, buoyed by unconditional trust; that this was temporary, that he would save them. A young mother cheerfully told Kai how it was a shame that her husband couldn’t have joined them at the Faire; her husband, who was among the hundreds walking the bed of the Laune on the day the lake froze. Kai’s weariness settled into his bones with each reunion. The Merrow spoke of their missing loved ones as though they were not lost to the depths. They expressed their gratitude to the Queen for her hospitality, as though they were honoured guests rather than mere creatures of folklore and fairytale to much of Eisalaan. He couldn’t tell if they were in denial or feigning optimism.
He should be able to tell.
The sun inched across the clearing, and as the light turned gold and his people settled back into their natural social clusters, he found himself with a quiet moment at last. Ceri was dancing with Gerard, shrieking with laughter as he whipped her haphazardly around the clearing. Adeline sat near the small fire, deep in conversation with Alun while Iseult sat at her feet, quietly piling snow on her boots when she wasn’t watching.
“Well, now I know why we haven’t seen you in so many weeks, cousin.”
Kai turned at the familiar voice, and found Os at his side. He was clutching a cup of steaming wine, flushed and merry with a rare smile carving long lines into his ruddy cheeks. But he looked up at his King and the smile gave way to his usual pensive frown.
“What’s wrong? I’m only poking fun.”
Kai shook his head. “No. You’re right, it’s been too long.”
