It startled Kaye to think of Roiben as a child. "You grew up in Faerie?”
"I don't have time for—”
"Make time. I want to know.”
Ethine looked at Kaye for a long moment, then sighed. "Roiben and I were brought up in Faerie by a human midwife. She'd been stolen away from her own children and would call us by their names. Mary and Robert. I misliked that. Otherwise, she was very kind.”
"What about your parents? Do you know them? Love them?”
"Answer my question, if you please," Ethine said. "My Lady wants him to duel instead of lead the Unseelie Court into battle. It would prevent a war—which the Unseelie Court is too depleted to win—but it would mean his death.”
"Your Lady is a bitch," Kaye said before she thought better of it.
Ethine wrung her hands, fingers sliding over one another. "No. She would accept him back. I know she would if he were only to ask her. Why won't he ask her?”
"I don't know," Kaye said.
"You must discern something. He has a fondness for you.”
Kaye started to protest, but Ethine cut her off.
"I heard the way you spoke to me when you supposed me to be him. You speak to him as to a friend.”
Kaye shook her head. "Look, I did this declaration thing. Where you get a quest. He pretty much told me to fuck off. Whatever you think I know about him or can tell you about him, I just don't think I can.”
"I saw you, although I didn't hear the words. I was in the hill that night." Ethine smiled, but her brow furrowed slightly, as though she were puzzling through Kaye's human phrasings. "Still, one must assume the quest was not an apple from a banquet table nor a braid in his hair.”
Kaye blushed.
"If you thought the King of the Unseelie Court would give you so simple a quest, you must think him besotted.”
"Why wouldn't he? He said that I . . ." Kaye stopped, realizing that she shouldn't repeat his words. You are the only thing I want. It wasn't safe to say that to Ethine, no matter what had happened.
"A declaration is very serious.”
"But... I thought it was, like, letting everyone know we were together.”
"It is far more immutable than that. There is only ever a single consort, and more often there is none. It joins you both to him and to his court. My brother declared himself once, you know.”
"To Silarial," Kaye said, although she hadn't known, not really, not before right then. She remembered Silarial standing in the middle of a human orchard and telling Roiben that he'd proved his love to her satisfaction. How angry Silarial had been when he turned away. "He finished his quest, didn't he?”
"Yes," Ethine said. "He was to stay at the Unseelie Court, as Nicnevin's sworn knight, until the end of the truce. Nicnevin's death ended it. He could be the Bright Lady's consort now if he wanted, if he returned to us. A declaration is a compact and he has fulfilled his side of the bargain.”
Kaye looked around at the revelers and felt small and stupid. "You think they should be together, don't you? You wonder what he saw in me—some dirty pixie with bad manners.”
"You're clever." The faerie woman did not meet Kaye's gaze. "I imagine he saw that.”
Kaye looked down at the scuffed tops of her boots. Not that clever, after all.
Ethine looked thoughtful. "In my heart I believe that he loves Silarial. He blames her for his pain, but my Lady . . . she did not intend for him to suffer so—”
"He doesn't believe that. At best he thinks she didn't care. And I think he very much wanted her to care.”
"What quest did he send you on?”
Kaye frowned and tried to keep her voice even. "He told me to bring him a faery that can tell an untruth." It hurt to repeat it, the words a reproach for her thinking he liked her enough to put feelings above appearances.
"An impossible task," Ethine said, still considering.