“What happened to Terrance’s cronies?” Delilah stood up and sucked in a deep lungful of air, keeping a wary eye on the water. Even though the waves were a good distance from us, I could see her pull back. I wondered what it would be like to be so afraid of the water. For me, the ocean was an embracing mother, a refuge and sanctuary.
“Chase wrote it up as self-defense, and the Pod’s indicted Lon for attempted murder and kidnapping. They also caught the other one—Keith—and both of them are going before the Tribunal. I doubt they’ll make it out alive.”
“Good riddance,” Camille said. After a moment, she turned a dazzling smile our way. “So, did I hear talk of a trip to Scotland?”
“In a bit.” I tried to repress a smile, but it broke through anyway. “But first, we’re going to Ramsey, on the Isle of Man, where my mother will meet us. Her people still live there, and so I’ll be able to meet my relatives on her side. This is the first time I’ve spoken to her in over a hundred years. She thought I was dead all this time.”
Mitch laughed. “I still can’t believe I actually married a princess.”
“I’m not a princess, you doofus.” I grinned.
“Yes you are, or you will be, once they verify your birth with your mother.” He shrugged, then winced. “Ouch, remind me not to do that again.”
“I take it you’re reclaiming your rightful heritage?” Delilah clapped her hands. “It’s just like a Cinderella story!”
“Cinderella story, my ass,” I said, snorting. “Prince Charming can go suck rocks. I’ve met my true love and he’s a contractor.”
After a moment, my smile faded. “Seriously, I have no idea what will come of this. My mother can visit her homeland, but she can’t rejoin her people—it’s been too long and they’re pissed at her for keeping it a secret from me.”
“What about her parents? How do they feel?”
“My grandmother insists that I be entered into the rolls of the Pod, even though I was born into my father’s people. She says since my mother was abducted, I didn’t have a choice as to birthplace, and that I’ll be given dual status with both the Puget Sound Harbor Seal Pod—my Pod of choice—and the Isle of Man Selkies—my mother’s people. We’ll fly there about six weeks before our daughter is born. And she’ll be born into my grandmother’s people, and given dual status, too.”
“What if they want you to return home to rule someday?” Camille dusted off her dress as the clouds began to roll in.
I stared at the water as it broke along the shore. What would I do? Would I ever return to my mother’s people to accept the crown? I loved it here; I loved the freedom that being just Siobhan Morgan gave me.
Queen and princess—those titles required a certain loss of freedom. Did I want that? Would Mitch ever accept that?
“I have no idea. Our daughter can make up her mind when she comes of age—we won’t influence her either way. But for me… I think I’d like to stay here, if I can. But who knows what will happen?”
“What about Terrance’s people? Will they come after you for revenge?” Delilah asked.
I shook my head. “No, not if everything goes right. They think he died in an accident. That way the Cobh Selkie Pod and the Finfolk won’t take revenge on my mother’s people. But someday, if my grandmother calls me to help her, I may not have a choice.” I looked down at Mitch and he squeezed my hand. “Would you go with me if that happened? If I’m called to lead a war?”
“I told you before,” he said quietly. “I’ll follow you anywhere. You’re my mate, my love. If you rise to be a queen or a warrior princess, I’ll be at your side. You and our daughter come before anything or anybody… or any place.”
A sharp breeze picked up and I felt the tides of change whip in on it. The world wasn’t what it used to be. Times were changing. If I ever became queen of my people and one of our women was stolen away, we’d do everything in our power to rescue her—and with technology, we’d stand a good chance. No more marriages-by-capture for me or my kind.
The Supes and Fae of the world were adapting along with the humans, and our cultures had to adapt. It was imperative, if we expected to thrive.
A sharp kick against my stomach startled me and I laughed.
“She’s going to be a fighter, our Marion is,” I said, patting my belly.
“So you’re naming her after the café owner?”
I nodded. “She helped us in our time of need. I’m going to honor her request. Our Marion will grow up knowing that she’s a new breed of selkie—that the old ways are changing. She’ll be on the cutting edge of that change, and I hope, one day, she’ll leave her mark on the world.”
Mitch kissed my hand and I leaned down and locked his lips with my own, savoring the kiss, savoring his love, savoring my freedom. Yes, it was a good day, and while I knew that happily ever after never came easily, I thought we stood a pretty good chance of making it happen.
The Tangleroot Palace
MARJORIE M. LIU
1
Weeks later, when she had a chance to put up her feet and savor a good hot cup of tea, Sally remembered something the gardener said, right before the old king told her that she had been sold in marriage.
“Only the right kind of fool is ever going to want you.”
Sally, who was elbow-deep in horse manure, blew a strand of red hair out of her eyes. “And?”
“Well,” began the elderly woman, frowning. And then she seemed to think better of what she was going to say, and crouched down beside her in the grass. “Here. Better let me.”
They were both wearing leather gloves that were stiff as rawhide, sewn in tight patches to reach up past their elbows. Simple to clean if you let them sit in the sun until manure turned to dry flakes, easy to beat off with a stick. Sally, who did not particularly enjoy rooting through muck, was nonetheless pleased that the tannery had provided her with yet another new tool for her work in the garden.
“You know,” Sally said, “when I told the stableboy to take care of my new roses, this is not what I meant.”
The gardener made a noncommittal sound. “There were ravens in my dreams last night.”
Sally finally felt something hard and stubbly beneath her fingers, and began clawing manure carefully away. “I thought we were talking about how only a fool would ever want me.”
“All men are fools,” replied the old woman absently, and then her frown deepened. “They were guarding a queen who wore a crown of horns.”
It took Sally a moment to realize that she was speaking of the ravens in her dream again. “How odd.”
“Not so odd if you know the right stories.” The gardener shivered, and glanced over her shoulder—but not before her gaze lingered on Sally’s hair. “Sabius is coming. Your father must want you.”
Sally craned around, but the sun was in her eyes. All she could see was the blurry outline of a bowlegged man, stomping across the grass with his meaty fists swinging. She glanced down at herself, and then with a rueful little smile continued clearing debris away from her roses.
“Princess,” said Sabius, well before his shadow fell over her. “Your father requests your… Oh, dear God.”
The gardener bit her bottom lip and kept her head down, long silver braids swinging from beneath her straw hat. Sally, gazing with regret at the one little leaf she’d managed to expose, leaned backward and tugged until her arms slid free of the rawhide gloves—left sticking from the manure like two hollow branches. Her skin was pink and sweaty, her work apron brown with stains.