Scurrying along behind her was the woman I’d thought looked like a domestic servant—the one the other Fae had said was the Queen’s maid. Had she asked Queen Elia to interfere on my behalf? If so, I was determined to find her later and thank her.
But there was no telling if the Queen was coming to rescue me or not. She gave me a quick, but comprehensive look, before turning to Lady Starchild, who had an uncertain expression on her haughty, pretty face.
“Now then, Lady Starchild,” she said, frowning at the other woman. “What’s this I hear about you holding a trial without me and sentencing a young girl to a year and a day in irons?”
“Your Highness!” Lady Starchild faltered. “I…I did not want to bother you with such a trivial matter. The girl is nothing but a half-breed—see her hair color?”
“Yes, I see.” The Fae queen gave me another piercing look. I lifted my chin and gave it back to her. I was not in the wrong here, I thought, and I refused to let myself look guilty. “But her blood is not a sufficient cause for such a steep sentence—why a year and a day wearing iron is something only the gravest offender would merit. Grown men would weep at the idea, and this girl is only a child!”
“She deserves it, Your Majesty!” Morganna exclaimed, stepping forward, though her mother was making frantic motions at her to get back in the corner. “Look what she did to me!” And she whipped the white cloth off her head dramatically, showing her perfectly bald head to the queen.
The rest of the gathered crowd—because the hall was packed by now—gasped at the sight. But Queen Elia only gave Morganna a steady, unimpressed look.
“Morganna, isn’t it?” she said, frowning. “As I recall, you were sent away from the Summer Court to the human world because of some nasty business you got up to with a couple of the Outer Court guardsmen. Isn’t that right?” She lifted a silver eyebrow at Morganna, who flushed angrily—which was really easy to see, since she was so completely bald. Even her scalp got pink with embarrassment, but she still refused to back down.
“I went to the human world, yes, Your Majesty,” she said. “And that is where I met this nasty little wanna-be Fae!” She pointed at me. “She didn’t look like anything but an ugly little Norm up until a few weeks ago, when that other half-breed took some kind of spell off her.” She pointed at Lachlan, who was still standing with Bran, between me and the bailiff and his whip.
“Is that right?” The Queen looked at me again, and this time I thought I saw interest in her triple-ringed eyes. She looked at Lachlan too. “What kind of spell did you take off the girl?”
“A geas, Your Majesty—the strongest I have ever encountered.” Lachlan spoke firmly but respectfully. “It made Emma look like a human. Only when I finally got it off, was her true form revealed.”
“And who would put you under a geas, my dear?” the Queen asked me, frowning.
“I…I don’t know, Your Majesty,” I said, trying to meet her eyes without dropping my own. “I thought I was human up until two weeks ago. I don’t know who my real parents were—only that they were Fae.”
“You wear the royal purple, I see,” she said, frowning at me. “Rather presumptuous for your first visit to the Summer Court, don’t you think? Especially for an orphan who does not know her own parentage?”
“Look at Emma’s eyes, Your Highness,” Bran murmured. “Lachlan dressed her in royal purple for a reason.”
The Queen stepped closer to me—she was shorter than I was—and reached up to cup my cheek. I tilted my chin down obligingly and let her look at me, though it was difficult to do without fidgeting.
“Those eyes,” she murmured, looking at me closely. “Royal purple with the golden darts. So like Tyr’s…so like Talen’s. But surely not… Not after all these years… And yet, the prophecy said…”
At that moment there was a ringing neigh and the sound of hooves galloping on a wooden floor. The noise startled me and I turned my head, breaking the staring contest with Queen Elia, to see what was going on.
The crowd had parted respectfully for the Queen and then flowed together again, as the people tried to see what was going on. Now it parted again, but this time it was a mad scramble—people throwing themselves to either side to try to avoid what was coming.
And what was coming was a pure white horse with a silky white mane and tale, both waving like flags as he threw himself towards me.
79
I turned from the Queen—who had prudently taken a step back—and opened my arms to the horse. He neighed loudly and, as before, his voice registered in my mind rather than in my ears.