“Let’s not keep her waiting,” I interrupt.
He frowns, but doesn’t try to dissuade me. Nickgut closes the doors behind us as we follow Queen Mab into the room, leaving us alone with her.
Queen Mab doesn’t sit on her throne. Instead, she walks back and forth in front of it, her sedate pace doing nothing to hide her discontent. “Lugh, are you injured?”
?
?No, Mother. I’m fine.”
“Good.” She glances at me, lifting her chin the barest amount when she finds me still standing at Lugh’s side. “Keiran?”
So much displeasure in two syllables. After centuries at Lugh’s side, I recognize her unspoken message. I’ve forgotten propriety and such lapses will not be tolerated in a worthless human, no matter his loyalty to the royal family. Every muscle in my body protests, but I take a knee, bow my head, and remind myself to breathe as the coming headache begins to take root at the base of my skull. “Your Majesty.”
Proprieties observed, she lifts a hand to Lugh. “Explain what happened, darling. Quickly.”
“We found the cottage, but Sláine wasn’t there. We divided up to search the immediate area for him, but a group of Seelie guards found us instead. They attacked and we fought to defend ourselves.”
“I see,” she murmurs. “How was Roark injured?”
Lugh swallows hard. “It was my fault.” The toe of his boot grinds against the stone floor when he adjusts his stance and I wish I could comfort him. Of course he would take that mistake on his shoulders. “They separated Roark from us and I couldn’t get to him quickly enough. One of the guards slipped a dagger beneath his armor.”
The queen gives a low hiss, a mixed exhalation of pain and sorrow. “Where were you?” she asks her son.
“Fighting a short distance away with Keiran.”
Queen Mab stops pacing. I don’t dare look up, don’t dare look to see where she is, but I know she’s watching me. When she speaks again, it’s with all the barely contained fury of a winter’s storm. “Keiran, are you still in possession of the belt?”
The belt. The belt. It always comes back to the damn belt. But accepting it was part of the cost of remaining at Lugh’s side and ensuring his safety, so I took it without hesitation. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Judging from your pallor, I may assume you used it during the fight?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“When?”
The word cuts the air as it passes. No matter what answer I give, it will be the wrong one. Fear makes my muscles knot and the pain crests throughout my body, shooting up into my skull where it scrapes against the back of my eyes with the bear’s long claws. I duck my head lower, grimacing against the overload of sensations, and answer, “When Prince Lugh rushed to defend his brother. We were cut off from each other and I needed to reach him.”
“Why did you leave his side at all?” she asks.
“I ran ahead,” Lugh begins, but his mother cuts him off with a quick, “Keiran is capable of answering.”
I’m not sure if I am. My palms are clammy and cold sweat sticks my shirt to my back. “I failed him today, Your Majesty. Failed you both.”
“A rare occurrence,” she remarks. “I can’t remember the last time it happened, in fact.”
“It—” My stomach roils. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”
Lugh notices my worsening state and steps in front of me. I focus on the worn leather of his boot heels, hoping it distracts me from the rapidly approaching threat of being sick all over the floor at Queen Mab’s feet.
“Don’t worry about Keiran,” he tells his mother. “The belt worked. He protected me. I wouldn’t be standing here otherwise. Roark wouldn’t either.”
“I do not doubt Keiran’s role in your escape—”
“But you haven’t thanked him for it either,” Lugh interrupts.
Queen Mab says nothing for a long while. Lugh doesn’t press further. He doesn’t move away from me either. I ignore the way the details blur before my eyes and try to count the number of stitches on his boots, the number of crystalline flecks mixed into the stone floor. The longer we wait here, the worse I feel.
I can’t wait any longer for the queen to respond. She may be irritated with me for daring to speak now, but I have to do something. I lift my gaze and dare to meet hers across the room. She doesn’t strike me down for my boldness, so I clear my throat and say, “I will do better next time, Your Majesty.”