Prince of Air and Darkness (The Darkest Court)

I manage to dig up some ancient history from my memory. “Do you mean the first Faerie Civil War? I remember one of our classes talking about it when I was still an undergrad.”

“Indeed. The Seelie Court fell due to their king’s greed and have been kept in check ever since with strict rules established by the Pantheons and enforced by my people. But we, too, are subject to the same expectations. Our Court divides its power between me, my sons, and my Knight, a position that has been unfilled for centuries because we have maintained our status quo. When Sláine abandoned us, he upset our balance of power. Our High Prince was gone. The Seelie threaten us with war. If my people have any hope of surviving, I must find a powerful Knight to fill the void.”

Her smile is a mixture of irritation and amusement. “Sadly, my love-struck son interfered with the greatest candidate I’d found.”

“He was trying to protect me,” I protest, moved to defend Roark even though I’m starting to see how his decision may have been the wrong one.

“And he did. But in doing so, he forced me to search for other options.” She tilts her head. Maybe that’s the faerie equivalent of a shrug. “I had no choice but to grant the role to him. There is no one else powerful enough, no one else I could trust to work in the best interests of the Court, despite his treasonous emotions. The war has begun and there must be a Knight, or my people have no hope of survival. That is why I cannot give you what you ask. That is why he cannot be free.”

There is no doubt I will regret the question I’m about to ask. But everything is starting to click into place and even though the reality of what I’m considering should be fucking terrifying, it’s starting to feel more and more right. “What does the Knight do?”

Mab doesn’t salivate as I expect her to. She remains coolly indifferent; she could be explaining how clouds are formed or why two plus two equals four. “The Knight is an extension of my power. My sword, if you will. He supports the best interests of the Winter Court. He protects me and my sons for as long as we need him, or until he is defeated in battle.”

The ley line snickers at the very thought that we could be destroyed while my heart catches on the simple phrase for as long as we need him. “Immortality?” I whisper.

“As near to it as our people can be,” she says. She looks pensive when she adds, “Not true immortality, but an extension.”

Years steeling myself for the end. Years of approaching life with militant optimism because it was too short for bitterness. Now, lifetimes lie before me, mine for the taking. And Roark beside me in all of them.

Mab works her way through the better half of a pomegranate before I can bring myself to speak again. “The Knight retains his free will?” I ask.

Her lips purse, but she gives a cautious nod. “If he asks.”

“Your Knight could argue against your commands? Disobey you if given a bad order?”

A swift, cool breeze makes the candles on the table flicker. “Although I would wish obedience of all my servants, there are times that call for a voice of dissension. As long as lines are not overstepped without due cause. And there are always consequences,” she adds.

“You knew Roark would question you.”

She sighs. “It seems his nature.”

“And you were still going to have him take on the mantle?”

Her glamour snaps back into place. Too bad. I wish I could see what emotions are actually hidden in those dark eyes. “Again, I have little choice.”

“What if you took me instead?”

I start coughing when the temperature of the room plummets. Mab is so still in her chair I worry she’s turned into an ice sculpture. The ley line shrugs itself over me like a blanket and the air stops freezing in my lungs. Once breathing doesn’t hurt, I remind her, “You offered me the position once. If I took it now, would you be able to grant Roark’s freedom?”

“Yes,” she purrs and the hairs on my arms rise at the power that roils under that single word.

“Fine. I’ll take the oath whenever you want in exchange for Roark’s freedom.” I point at her and the ley line rumbles softly at my back. “He faces no repercussions for my actions and you swear to never interfere in our relationship.”

For a heartbeat, I think she’ll turn me down. She’s too still, a snake before it strikes. I can’t help jerking when she reaches for her goblet.

She smiles as she takes a sip of her drink. “Done.”

* * *

Turns out, becoming the Winter Knight isn’t just repeating a bunch of arcane words. The instant Mab and I came to a settlement and decided that I would take the oath the next night during the festival of Samhain, I was whisked away by servants. They took me to a room near the smithy—apparently the Unseelie have a full smithy in their sídhe—where I was measured and remeasured for ceremonial armor. Once that was completed, I was sent back to the living quarters. Mab must have given orders for me to be installed in my own set of rooms, since the hobs and redcaps escorting me refused to show me to Roark’s chambers.

I channeled the ley line and let its energy burn over my skin in golden flames while I dared them to manhandle me to my new destination. At that point, they caved and called Bridget. She chuckled at the sight of my tantrum, but took me back to Roark, quizzing me on how to return so I could find my way in the future. He was still asleep, so I curled up beside him in the bed. I didn’t dream at all.

This morning, Bridget reappeared and had me bathe again. Maybe I’m imagining it, but she doesn’t seem to dislike me as much as I thought. She found a friendly redcap to escort me back down to the smithy to try on my armor. It took a few hours for them to finish adjusting everything, but I have the afternoon free to stay with Roark before heading to the throne room for the official ceremony. Since he’s still resting, sneaking in is the best option.

Which is easier said than done, since walking in armor is impossible to do silently.

I close the door behind me, but cringe when the clanking continues even after I freeze. “For the love of God, how the fuck does she expect me to sneak up on anyone?”