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At once the Fae that were closest to me began to move forward to study my eyes. Since most of them were taller than me, it meant a lot of them were stooping to see me. I felt awkward, just standing there as they filed past, staring at me.
Many of them stopped for a long moment and one or two of the ladies burst into tears.
“Oh, my Princess!” one of them who looked older than the rest—(which is to say, she had a few crow’s feet around the corners of her eyes)—exclaimed. “I thought you would never return! Praise Lolth! Praise the Spider Queen!”
She dabbed at her streaming eyes and bent to kiss my hand, which I gave her, feeling extremely awkward. I wasn’t used to being the center of attention. I’d spent my whole life in the background, always helping and serving others—being a homeroom mom and doing bake sales for the PTA and raising Christopher’s kids. I hadn’t been trained to be a Princess—far from it.
“I’m Lady Nolana,” the older Fae Lady told me, squeezing my hands in hers. “I was in the room when you were born! When you were stolen away we were all devastated! Simply devastated. Praise Lolth that you have returned!”
“Do you see now?” Krynn demanded, as the last of the Dark Fae filed past me. “Do you see that Princess Lilliana has returned?”
There was a collective murmur of agreement but when I turned around, I could see that Mordren was scowling at me. Then Lady Elgiana came forward and murmured something in his ear. Slowly, his scowl turned to a smirk.
“Very well,” he said, raising his voice to be heard above the murmuring. “I acknowledge this…person may be the Lost Princess returned to us at last. However—” He held up a finger, to stop whatever it was Seldarin and Kyrnn might have said. “However, we all know that the Princess cannot ascend to the Throne of the Midnight Court until she comes of age and comes fully into her powers.”
“Which will be on the night of the Autumn Equinox,” Seldarin said, frowning.
“Yes, and until then, she must be attended by faithful servants who will meet her needs—all of her needs.” Mordren pointed at Seldarin and Krynn. “Since the two of you are so interested in seeing the Princess installed on the throne, I appoint the both of you to guide her, to guard her, and to slake her Thirst, when it arises.”
Krynn went pale.
“But you know that Lolth herself had no fewer than ten attendants for her Thirst—some texts say it was more like twenty who gave her what she needed. The two of us alone cannot possibly meet her needs!”
“So you say.” Mordren shrugged. “But that is not my problem. Since you two want her so badly to be Queen, you shall be her only attendants. Her first Thirst-Quenching shall be tonight.”
“You can’t fucking—” Seldarin began in a growl but Mordren cut him off.
“That is my final say on the matter and since I am Lord Regent, I have the right to dictate what is good and right for the Princess until she ascends the throne. It is one of my sworn duties.”
“You’re misusing your position, Mordren!” Krynn said angrily. “The office of Regent was set up to guide and protect the Princess—not to kill or disable the only ones supporting her!”
“Be that as it may, my ruling still stands.” Mordren gave him a self-satisfied smirk. Then he raised his voice so that the whole room could hear. “Let it be known that the Captain of the Palace Guard, Sir Seldarin and the Royal Historian and Keeper of Records, Sir Krynn, are the only two males allowed to slake the Lost Princess’s Thirst and help to satiate her appetites. If any other well-meaning citizens of the Court even attempt to help them bear this burden, know that I will find out about it and you will be expelled and never allowed to return to the Midnight Court.”
There was a murmur among the Fae, but no one seemed inclined to argue with the Lord Regent. Mordren gave us a look of sly self-satisfaction and nodded imperially.
“You three may go. You are dismissed.”
I didn’t understand why Seldarin looked grim and Krynn looked shocked as the two of them led me away. What were they all talking about? What was “the Thirst?” And more to the point, what had happened to my body as I slept last night? Could I really be the Lost Princess? But even if I was, I didn’t know anything about ruling anyone—especially not the Dark Fae—a people I hadn’t even known existed outside my dreams until a day ago.
What the hell was going on?
I was soon to find out and it wasn’t going to be pleasant.
17
Lily
The minute we got back to the Cavern of Lolth—which Krynn had led us to using a whole different route, since he seemed to know the whole huge Palace like the back of his hand—I began looking for a mirror. Not because I’m vain—living with Christopher for so many years had firmly hammered into my head that I was nothing special—but because I wanted to examine the differences I’d seen in the mirrored walls of the Throne Room more closely.
I found a mirror behind the folding screen that Krynn had put up to shield me while I was bathing the night before. It was a huge, heavy oval thing in a dark wooden frame—I hadn’t noticed it earlier because it was turned to face the wall.
I dragged it around so I could see the reflective surface, huffing and puffing with its weight. I would have asked the guys for help, but they were standing in a corner muttering to each other urgently. I wanted to ask questions about what Mordren had said, but first I wanted to examine myself more closely.
All the way back to the Cavern I had been touching my face—running my fingers over my sharply pointed ears and my new, more delicate features. I needed to absorb the reality of how different I looked before I could deal with anything else. And if you think that sounds shallow, I’d like to see how you’d react if you woke up one morning looking completely different from how you did when you went to bed the night before. Even a positive change takes getting used to.
I spent a good long time just staring at my new face in the mirror. They were still my features, as I said before, just more delicate and beautiful and so much younger. Anyone who knew me would probably look twice to recognize me and then they would assume I’d had some kind of face-lift, I thought. Though I didn’t think any plastic surgeon in the world could achieve the amazing results I saw in the mirror.
It was more than just looking younger and prettier—my skin was absolutely flawless—to the point where I couldn’t even see my pores. And my hair, with its wild new colors, was thick and lustrous and shiny—it looked like a shampoo ad. My teeth, which had been a bit stained from years of coffee drinking, were now a perfect porcelain white. And my…
