Page 73 of The Faerie Handmaid

Morgana helped Emerlyn out, then looked up at the grand house with its forbidding wall. The gate was of carved and scrolled bogwood, oiled rather than painted. It gave the impression of opulence.

Emerlyn followed her gaze. “Ursula was the only child of two delegates who chose to partner. She has lived in this house her whole life.”

“She has no partner of her own?”

“Few of us mate anymore, I’m afraid. I wish I could change that.” Emerlyn straightened her shoulders with visible effort. “I dread this,” she said in an undertone, and started up the walk.

23

Emerlyn knew the cantrip for the bogwood gate as well as the one for the wide front door of the house. In fact, Emerlyn seemed to know the cantrips of every door in the city, and Morgana wondered if the councillor’s memory was absolute, like her own. Her perfect memory was useful, although sometimes a burden rather than a blessing. If Emerlyn possessed it, she must feel the same. It would be another link between them.

The front door swung open, and the councillor walked in without waiting for an invitation. Morgana followed, and the two half-blood servants came just behind.

Two human servants peered out of a side door but swiftly withdrew at the sight of the councillor. A tall man, a half-blood, appeared briefly at the end of the long hall, then also melted away into a side room. Everything about the place spoke of tension. Morgana could guess Ursula was not a popular employer.

The delegate appeared a moment later. She was thin, of middle age, wearing the customary robe in a light shade of gray. Belatedly, Morgana understood that the delegates’ gray robes grew more and more pale as the wearers aged. The Keeper’s white robe had been a demonstration.

Dama Ursula spoke no word of welcome, only put her hands on her hips and glared at the visitors. “I gather you want something, Councillor.” Her piercing voice echoed down the broad hallway. “I have never known you to pay me a social visit.”

“I am not doing so now.”

“Then why are you here?”

Morgana stepped past Emerlyn and her servants. “Dama Ursula, I presume? I am Priestess Morgana of the Lady’s Temple.”

“Ah, the pretender,” the older woman said. “You interrupted our session the other day.”

“I do not apologize for that. I have an urgent errand, and no time for diplomacy.”

“What could your errand possibly have to do with me?” Ursula demanded. Her voice was strident with what Morgana suspected was a perpetually foul temper. She folded her arms and lifted her chin in Morgana’s direction.

Morgana said coldly, “I feel certain, Dama, that you know the answer to that question.”

Ursula gave a grating laugh. “Insolence!”

“Hardly. I am aware that you are magicking the boy king and harming my country.”

Ursula’s lips tightened and thinned until they nearly disappeared. “You are aware?” The word dripped sarcasm. “By what means have you become aware?”

Morgana ignored the question. “Sero Faolin we have already dealt with. It is your turn.”

At this, Dama Ursula visibly stiffened, her chin pulling in, her shoulders rising. The miasma of resentment and hatred that surrounded her intensified so that it was almost visible to Morgana, as if it were a gathering storm cloud blurring her vision. A rivulet of magic, dark and icy as a forest stream in winter, flowed down the hallway and chilled her skin, bringing gooseflesh to her neck and chest.

Ursula snapped, “Faolin is a fool.”

Emerlyn said in a tone of dull resignation, “Faolin has always been a troublemaker. You should have known better, Ursula, than to ally yourself with him.”

Ursula drew a hissing breath, and when she spoke again, it was like listening to a snake use human speech. “I should have thought, Councillor, that you would put fae country before the humans of Lloegyr!”

“Do the Lloegyrians not have a right to exist?” Morgana asked.

“If they are too weak to defend themselves, they might as well surrender to the Romans and get it over with. Is it our fault they cannot?”

“Ursula,” Emerlyn began, but Morgana interrupted.

Her voice dropped into its deepest register. It rang through the hallway with an intensity that made Ursula blink. “It is, Dama. It is most definitely your fault. You have been magicking the king of Lloegyr, a hateful thing to do. You have weakened his reign and the country’s defenses, and people are dying because of it!”

Emerlyn said, “You will stop immediately, Ursula. This is an egregious violation of the Rule, and you will pay the price.”