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Their arguments had escalated, and sides were being taken.
Aaibhe felt the pain of this.
Peace amongst themselves was what they had enjoyed until she had fallen in love with Morgan LeBlanc. If she gave him up, peace would be restored. She had no choice.
She turned to him and felt as though her life would soon be over. She was reducing her eternity to a form of robotic duty—nothing more.
“Morgan, you know of course … it must end for us.”
“I know nothing of the kind. I mean to take you away—to Milesian if you will allow. You don’t need to bring harmony and peace to subjects who deny you personal happiness.”
“They need me,” she said softly and touched his cheek.
He took her hand and feverishly kissed her fingers. “I need you more. Tell me, Aaibhe—tell me you don’t want to live without me, for I shan’t live without you. I would give up my kingdom for you. Tell me you will do the same.”
She was Queen of the Seelie Fae, and they were in dire circumstances. She knew Pestale would find a way to break through and that the Dark King wasn’t even near enough to know or care. She knew that Banzar did not have it in him to lead. He was too self-centered to put his people first.
Morgan stepped away and planted his fist into his open palm. “Tell me, Aaibhe, that you and I matter enough to fight for!”
Aaibhe saw it all so clearly, and he was correct. Their union was her right. Her Fae subjects were asking too much, but could she win this battle and keep them safe? Even if she won the political battle, would they be able to defeat the Dark Ones?
“I do, Morgan, I do love you, beyond what is seemly. And, yes, I think our union will be good for both our worlds … so, yes, I will fight for the right to be with you.”
A knock sounded, and Aaibhe smiled warmly as she said, “Come in, Frankie.”
Frankie had just come from training with Nuad, the queen’s Chief Tracker. She skipped into the room and curtsied to Morgan. She then took the queen’s hand to drop a light kiss and said, “My Queen?”
“Yes, sweetheart?” Aaibhe already adored the child, but she knew what was coming. Had known it was coming; after all, Frankie, though quiet, had begun to open up. She knew that, sooner or later, Frankie would need to know the truth.
“I have a question, my Queen.” She regarded her sandals, and then she lifted her eyes to the queen’s face and took a long breath. “I know Miss Jazz would have told me if she knew, but I be thinking she didn’t.”
“If she knew?” Aaibhe probed gently.
“Aye, the longer I am here … amongst ye, well, it isn’t something that will go away, so I trust ye to tell me the truth of it,” Frankie said, sounding years older than she was.
“You are quite correct. You may trust me,” the queen said softly.
Frankie rolled back the sleeve of her closely fitted green exercise top and displayed bruises, faded bruises. She regarded the queen solemnly and said, “I go all black and blue trying something Nuad says I wasn’t ready for. When the bruise first comes on, it is dark and purple and hurts—it has always been so.”
“And soon afterwards it fades and does not hurt so very much,” the queen said with a gentle and encouraging smile.
“Aye, exactly, my Queen. A human, even a Fios human, couldn’t heal so fast, could she?”
“No, a Fios is not immortal and cannot heal herself,” the queen answered and waited.
“After m’mum died and I was bought by the farmer Higgens, he would hit me in the face, and then hours later the bruise and the pain were gone. It made him mad.”
“You don’t have to think about him any longer.” The queen put her arm around Frankie and hugged her close.
“No, I don’t suppose I do, but, m’Queen, why do I heal so fast? I used to think it was because I was a Fios, but Nuad, like you, says no. He also said Fios are mortal and can’t heal themselves.”
“I suppose it is time to give you the truth.” Aaibhe sighed and said, “I am not certain you are ready for it, though. You are still too young to understand affairs of the heart.” Aaibhe got up and paced.
Frankie watched her with solemnity, her eyes wide, her thoughts clicking the queen’s words into place. Aaibhe saw this at once and immediately returned to sit with her. She cast a quick glance at Morgan, who gave her an encouraging smile. He made her feel whole. He banished the doubts—every single doubt.
“Shall I leave you two to talk?” Morgan suggested.
Frankie reached out her hand, and he walked over and gave it a squeeze as she said, “No … don’t go.” She turned back to the queen. “I am that ready, I am, to hear whatever it is you are going to tell me.”
