Carling continued. “I think there is only so far you can take your relationship with Tiago and hope to hold the throne in peace. No Dark Fae will ever tolerate a Wyr as ruler. In fact, I will take that statement further. No other Elder demesne will tolerate it. Power among the United States Elder Races is carefully balanced. The Wyr cannot be seen as taking more than their allotted share.”
“Tiago and I have discussed that,” Niniane said. “He has no interest in the throne.”
“I am not talking about just Tiago,” Carling said. “I am talking about any potential heir.”
Niniane went still. Even her mind stopped working. She said past a sudden rasp in her throat, “You mean any children I might have?”
“Let me be blunt,” Carling said. “You cannot take the throne, have children with Tiago and hope to avoid war, either civil war with the Dark Fae, or war with the other demesnes.”
The restrictive band around her chest was back. She moved carefully to set her wineglass aside and forced herself to take slow deep breaths.
“I take it you have not considered these consequences.” Carling’s voice was gentle.
“I’ve been busy,” Niniane said.
“You could consider a marriage of state,” Carling said. “Have an heir and perhaps a spare, and maintain a private agreement with—”
“No,” said Niniane. Everything in her reacted violently to the thought, and that was without taking into consideration how Tiago would react. He would never allow it. He would kill anyone she might try to marry. “That is not going to happen.”
Carling was silent for a moment. Then she rose to her feet and went to collect the half-empty bottle of wine. She poured more for Niniane and then herself.
“Perhaps you can take your cues from history,” Carling said. “Consider the English. Edward VIII abdicated because his government would never accept Wallis Simpson. To them, marriage meant she would ascend to the throne. Do you think the Dark Fae would accept a marriage between you and Tiago, and trust that he would not also share the throne?”
Niniane drank her wine and stared into space. “No,” she said.
“Then there is Elizabeth I,” Carling said. “I liked Elizabeth. She was a clever woman. She used the possibility of making a marriage by alliance as a diplomatic ploy, but of course she never followed through. If she had lovers, she was so discreet it could never be proven. And no matter how much her parliament pressured her to do so, she never named an heir, so she avoided making her throne vulnerable to a coup.”
At that last, Niniane’s gaze snapped to Carling’s face. The Vampyre’s expression was serene, Madonna-like. She grumbled, “Conversations with you never go as I expect.”
She finished the bottle of wine with Carling then said goodnight and stepped outside. Rune fell into step beside her, and they walked back to her camp. Tiago sat with Cameron and Aryal at the campfire, eating supper. Niniane drank in the sight of Tiago. He sat with his elbows on his knees as he inspected the contents of an open cooler between his feet. He was not participating in Cameron and Aryal’s conversation, but he was listening. He looked burnished. Vitality poured off him, yet he appeared more relaxed and at ease than she could ever remember him looking in New York. Adriyel seemed to suit him.
Then he looked up, caught sight of her, and his relaxation vaporized. He rose to his feet, and his face assumed a hatchetedged aggression. He said in her head, What’s wrong?
She looked at him, affectionate exasperation breaking through her tiredness. How did you know?
Your scent. In two quick strides he was in front of her. He cupped her elbows as he looked down at her in concern. Tell me what’s happened.
Her eyes grew damp. She put a hand to his chest and stroked him. I promise I will tell you all about it very soon, but I am not ready right now. I have to think about some things before I know how to talk about it.
Okay, he said. “Why don’t you sit and have supper? I heard you haven’t eaten yet.”
“I’m not hungry,” she said. “I’m going to turn in.”
His expression darkened. “Faerie.”
She closed her eyes. Don’t push me right now, Tiago.
He put his forehead to hers. I can’t make it better if you don’t talk to me.
Maybe you can’t make this better. Sometimes things just hurt, she said. His hands tightened, and she opened her eyes to be jolted by his fierce stare. She steeled herself and said, I will talk to you soon. Right now I am going to bed. I need to have some time to myself to think, so . . . I need to go to bed alone, please.
His lips parted to reveal clenched teeth, and his Power pressed down on her. She knew it had to go against all of his instincts, but after a moment he eased back. His hold on her elbows loosened. I will be in telepathic range, he said. You are to call me if you have the slightest need, do you hear?
Telepathic range. That meant he would stay within ten or fifteen feet of her. She relaxed and nodded. I love you.
We will have that talk, Niniane, he said.
Soon, I promise.
He let her go and stepped back. The others had fallen silent, appearing to concentrate on their own thoughts as they ate. She nodded to them and stepped inside her tent. It was warm from the brazier where the fire had died down to glowing red coals.
She went straight to her bed, stripped down to her T-shirt and crawled shivering onto the pallet. There she curled into a ball as she waited for the bed to warm. Tiago would have had it warm in seconds. He would have warmed her heart too, in almost every way except for the one that was hurting now.
Nature seemed to compensate for those who were long-lived, and children were correspondingly rare and precious. Added to that, she had never dared to consider having children when her life had been under such constant threat. The possibility of having a child was always a part of some vague, undefined “sometime” in the future.
She had not considered that she might never be able to have children.
She ran through everything Carling had said again. Niniane could not fault the Vampyre’s logic in the slightest.
The bed warmed but she remained curled in a tight ball. She fell asleep, huddled around that cold internal place.
A shout splintered the cool silence in her head. She bolted into a sitting position as someone shouted again. Heavy footsteps ran past outside.
She shrank back as Tiago tore past the wall hanging, his sword drawn. His face was savage in the shadowed tent. He said, “Get dressed.”
Her heart hammered. “What’s happened?”
“I don’t know.”
She leaped out of bed and slipped on jeans, boots and a sweater. Then she grabbed her stiletto sheaths and jammed them in the pocket of her jeans. As soon as she stood, he took her by the arm and marched outside with her. Cameron stood in front of the tent with a short sword drawn as well. The rest of the camp churned with chaos.
Tiago put an arm around Niniane’s shoulders and clamped her to his side. She put her arms around his waist. Aryal pushed past several frightened attendants who were milling about. The harpy snapped at them, “Get the hell out of the way. Go back to your campsites and stay there until you’re told to do otherwise.”
They took one look at the harpy’s expression and scattered.
Aryal strode toward Tiago, Cameron and Niniane, her raptor’s eyes blistering with adrenaline and anger. The harpy looked ready, even eager, for a fight.