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“Here.” Roisin moved around the bed, brushing the sleeve of the feathery robe I wore up to examine my wrapped hand. “Let us take a look.”
She pulled at the gauze of the bandage and my gaze drifted to the cabinet she had opened the night before.
“Did Morrigan get hurt a lot?” I asked.
She let out a small laugh, though a tightness gathered at the edges of her eyes. “Lady Morrigan was a renowned sorcerer. She’d keep some of her healing potions stored here in her room, along with bandages, in case she was needed.”
“And do maids typically have a knowledge of which potions to use for healing?”
The tightness traveled to her mouth. “No.”
I raised my eyebrows. She was keeping something back. “Then how do you know how to use Morrigan’s potions?”
“Only the noble classes may study sorcery and become part of the Queen’s Sorcerers.” Her words rushed out like a dam bursting. “But I—I might have occasionally sneaked into the royal library and done some reading of my own.” She gripped my hand. “Please do not tell anyone, your majesty. I have waited so long to serve you again. I understand that it is blasphemy to assume someone of my station…”
Again. The word reverberated through my mind. “How old are you?”
“In this life? A hundred and forty-five.”
“You don’t look a day over twenty.”
“Faeries can use magic to determine what age they would like to appear. Most of us choose somewhere around our twenties or thirties. We live for so long. Could you imagine a city filled with old and bent creatures made fragile over time?”
I thought of King Dagda, how he’d said he’d looked younger for me as casually as if he had shaved in preparation for a first date. “I suppose not.” The wound in my hand was completely healed. “I’m impressed. Have you tried to join the Queen’s Sorcerers?”
Guilt crossed Roisin’s face. “The Queen’s Sorcerers are reserved for those with the proper station. They would never consider… me.”
I nodded. I understood how wishing for something didn’t make it so. “Your secret is safe with me.”
She smiled. “You have my deepest gratitude, my lady.”
I pressed my lips together, remembering how I’d lost it in my sleep. “I’m sorry about last night.”
Her smile faded and her hands ran over the velvet before flipping the gown over. “No apologies necessary, your majesty. Not from all you have been through.”
I glanced at her, surprised. “Dagda told you?”
Her fingers worked on the buttons on the back of the dress. “After you fell asleep, I demanded an audience with him and strongly requested that he explain.”
“And he let you do that?”
She flushed and bounced from foot to foot, her hands twitching along the gown. “It was quite forward of me. But how can I attend to your needs as your maid, when I have no comprehension of what those needs are?”
My stomach twisted. “So you know about… them.”
“He told me about your sisters locked inside you, yes.”
I wasn’t sure I liked Dagda spilling such information concerning my condition. “Are you afraid of me?”
Her hands paused for a moment before picking back up again. “A little. I suppose. But you are the Lady Morrigan. Some fear comes with the territory.”
I couldn’t stand the thought of constantly being around someone who feared me. “I release you from your service.”
Her face turned red, this time from outrage. “Have you been so put out by my services? Are you so dissatisfied with me?”
“Of course not. I don’t even know you. I just—”
“That is right, my lady. At least let there be a legitimate reason for you to insult me.” She glared at me with such fierceness, I pulled back, afraid of what she might say if I pushed further. I suddenly understood what kind of person could demand answers from the king of the faeries.
