"You're too young to remember Clothra," Rhys said.
"I've heard the story, we've all heard the story, but that was just a story," Ash said.
"No," Rhys said, "it was not. She had a single child by all of her brothers. He was marked by each of them. The boy became high king. He was called Lugaid Riab nDerg, of the red stripes."
"I always thought the stripes referred to some kind of birthmark," Galen said.
Doyle's deep voice filled the room, and held an echo of godhead. "I saw that the princess will have two children. They will have three fathers each, as Clothra's son did."
"Don't try your sidhe magic on me," Ash said.
"It is not sidhe magic, it is god magic, and the same Deities serve and are served by all of feykind," Doyle said.
I was running slow, but I finally heard what he'd said enough to say, "Three fathers apiece? You, Rhys, Galen, Frost, and who?"
"Mistral and Sholto."
I stared at him.
"But that was a month ago," Galen said.
"A month ago," Doyle said, "and do you remember what we did when we arrived back in Los Angeles that night?"
Galen seemed to think about it, then he said, "Oh." He kissed me on the top of my head. "But I didn't even have intercourse with Merry. We'd all agreed I'd make a lousy king. Oral sex doesn't get you pregnant."
"Kiddies," Rhys said, "the raw magic of faerie was out that night. I was still Cromm Cruach, with the ability to heal and kill with a touch. Merry had given life to the dead gardens with Mistral and Abe. She had raised the wild hunt with Sholto. Wild magic was out that night. We were all touched by it. The rules are different when that kind of magic is out and about."
"You were the one who started the sex when we got home, Rhys. Did you know this could happen?" Galen asked.
"I was Cromm Cruach again, a god again. I wanted to feel Merry under me while I was still…" Rhys put his hands out as if he couldn't quite put it into words.
"I was just happy that everyone was alive," I said, and my heart squeezed harder, as if it would truly break. The first hot, hard tear crept out of my eye.
"He is not dead, Merry," Galen said. "Not really."
"He is a stag, and no matter how magical and wonderful that is, he is not my Frost. He cannot hold me. He cannot talk to me. He is not..."
I stood up, letting the blanket fall to the floor. "I need some air." I started for the far hallway that would lead farther into the house and eventually to the backyard. Galen got up to follow me.
"No," I said. "No. Just no." I kept walking.
Doyle stopped me at the doorway. "I must finish this talk with our goblin allies."
I nodded, fighting not to break down completely. I couldn't afford to appear that weak in front of the goblins. But I felt like I was suffocating, I had to get somewhere where I could breathe. Somewhere where I could break down.
I started down the corridor at a fast walk. My hounds were suddenly beside me. I started to run and they leaped with me. I needed air. I needed light. I needed…
I heard voices behind me, my guard, calling, "Princess, you shouldn't be alone…"
The hallway changed to a different hallway. I was suddenly outside the dining room. Only the faerie sithen itself was capable of moving with my wish.
I stood there for a moment outside the big double doors, wondering what had we done to Maeve's house. Was the house now a sithen? Was the whole house now part of faerie? No answers, but just through these doors, and through the French doors that had never been there before was outside, and air, and light, and I wanted it.
I opened the doors. I walked carefully on the marble in the heels that I'd worn to please the twins. I thought about taking off the shoes, but I wanted outside first. The dogs's nails clicked on the floor. The Red Caps stood when I entered.
They went down on one knee, even Jonty. "My queen," he said.
"Not queen yet, Jonty," I said.
He grinned up at me, and it was strangely unfinished without his pointy teeth and more frightening face. It didn't quite look like him until I saw his eyes. Jonty was still in there in those eyes.
"Once all rulers were chosen by the gods. It is the old way. The way such things are meant to be done."
I shook my head. I had never wanted less to be ruler of faerie. The cost, as I'd feared, was so terribly high. Too high.
"Your words are well meant, but my heart is heavy."
"The Killing Frost is not gone."
"He will not help me raise his child. That is gone, Jonty." I started across the vast floor toward the far doors. The windows were a line of brightness. I realized with a start that it had been night when we began this, and was still night outside the main house, but through the windows it was bright day. The sunlight had moved, shadows changing across the floor in the hour since it had appeared, but it ran on a different time than the outside world. It was as if the doors led into the heart of this new sithen. Was this our garden? Our heart of faerie?