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A Lick of Frost (Merry Gentry #6)(6)

By:Laurell K. Hamilton

“Is the Unseelie Court so different from the Seelie Court when it comes to matters of sex?” Nelson asked.
“May I take this one, Mr. Farmer?” I asked.
“You may.”
“The Seelie try to ape human behavior. They’re stuck somewhere between the centuries of fifteen hundred to eighteen hundred, but they try to play human more than the Unseelie. Many of those exiled to our court have been exiled because of simply wanting to remain true to their original natures, and not let themselves be civilized in a human manner.” 
“You sound like you’re lecturing,” Nelson said.
I smiled. “I did a paper in college on the differences between the two courts. I thought it might help the teacher and the other students understand that the Unseelie Court wasn’t the bad guy.”
“You were the first of the fey to attend human college in this country,” Cortez said. He shifted through some papers in front of him. “But not the last. Some of the so-called lesser fey have actually gotten degrees since then.”
“My father, Prince Essus, thought if one of the royals went, then our people might follow. He thought that learning, and understanding the country we lived in, was a necessary part of the fey adapting to modern life here.”
“Your father never saw you attend college, though, did he?” Cortez asked.
“No,” I said. The one word was clipped.
Doyle and Frost reached for me at the same time. Their hands found each other at the back of my shoulders. Doyle’s arm stayed there. Frost’s hand moved to cover one of my hands where I kept them still upon the tabletop. They were reacting to the tension in me, but it let everyone in the room know how concerned they were with me dealing with this topic. They hadn’t reacted to talk of my ex-fiancé, Griffin. I think all my men thought they had washed his memory clean from me with their own bodies. I felt the same, so they’d read me right. Doyle was usually a good judge of my moods. Frost, who had his own moods, was learning mine.
“I think this topic is closed,” Biggs said.
“I am sorry if I caused the princess distress,” Cortez said, but he didn’t sound sorry. I wondered why he’d brought up my father’s assassination. Cortez, like Shelby and Veducci, struck me as men who didn’t do things without a reason. I wasn’t sure about Nelson and the rest. I was counting on Biggs and Farmer being calculating men. But what did Cortez hope to gain from mentioning my father’s death?
“I am sorry to cause distress, but I do have a reason for bringing the topic up,” Cortez said.
“I don’t see what relevance it could possibly have on these proceedings,” Biggs said.
“The murderer of Prince Essus was never apprehended,” Cortez said. “In fact, no one was even seriously suspected, is that correct?”
“We failed the prince and the princess in every way,” Doyle said. “But you weren’t a guard for either of them, were you?”
“Not at that time.”
“Lieutenant Frost, you were also part of the queen’s Ravens when Prince Essus died. None of the current bodyguards of the princess were members of Prince Essus’s Crane Guards, is that correct?”
“That is not true,” Frost said.
Cortez looked at him. “Excuse me?”
Frost looked at Doyle, who gave a small nod. Frost’s hand tightened over mine. He didn’t like to speak in public; it was a phobia. “We have half a dozen guards with us here in Los Angeles who were once part of Prince Essus’s Cranes.”
“The king seems very certain that none of the prince’s guards are guarding the princess,” Cortez said.
“It is a recent change,” Frost said. His hand tightened on mine until I used my free hand to play my fingers across the back of his. One, it would comfort him; two, it would keep him from forgetting how strong he was and hurting my hand. I played my fingers on the smooth white skin of his hand, and realized it didn’t comfort just him.
Doyle moved closer to me so that he was more obviously hugging me. I leaned into the curve of his arm, letting my body settle into the line of his, while I continued to stroke the back of Frost’s hand.“I still see no reason for this line of questioning,” Biggs said.
“I agree,” Farmer said. “If you have any more questions that are relevant to the actual charges, we might entertain them.”
Cortez looked at me. He gave me every ounce of those dark brown eyes. “The king thinks that the reason your father’s murderer was never caught is that the men investigating it were the murderers.”
Doyle, Frost, and I went very still. He had our attention now, indeed he did. “Speak plainly, Mr. Cortez,” I said.
“King Taranis accuses the Raven Guard of Prince Essus’s murder.” “You saw what the king did to the ambassador. I think that level of fear and manipulation speaks for my uncle’s state of mind right now.”
“We will follow up on Ambassador Stevens’s…condition,” Shelby said, “but doesn’t it make sense that the reason no clues were found is that the men looking for the clues were hiding them?”
“Our oath to the queen would forbid us to do harm to her family,” Doyle said.
“Your oath is to protect the queen, correct?” Cortez asked.
“We now belong to the princess, but the oath remains the same, yes.”
“King Taranis alleges that you killed Prince Essus to keep him from killing Queen Andais and putting himself on the throne of the Unseelie Court.”
The three of us stared at Cortez and Shelby. This was laundry so dirty that the queen had tortured people who had merely hinted at such things. I didn’t ask if Taranis had actually said it, because I knew no one else at his court would have dared Queen Andais’s anger. Anyone less than the king himself, and she would have called them out to a personal duel for such rumors.
Andais had a lot of faults, I knew that, but she had loved her brother. He had loved her, too. It’s why he hadn’t killed her and taken the throne, even though he felt that he would have been a better ruler. If he had lived, and my cousin, Prince Cel, had tried to take the throne, my father might have killed Cel to keep him off the throne.
Cel was insane, I think literally, and a sexual sadist who made Andais look mild. My father had feared the Unseelie Court at the hands of Cel. I feared it now. To save my life and the lives of those I loved, and to keep Cel off the throne, were the reasons I was still trying to be queen.
But I wasn’t pregnant, and whoever got me pregnant would be king to my queen. I had realized only a day or so ago that I’d have given up everything to be with Frost and Doyle—including being queen—but for one thing: To keep these two men with me might require me to give up my birthright. And I was too much my father’s daughter to let Cel have our people. But the regret in me was growing. 
“Do you have a reply to the accusation, Princess Meredith?”
“My aunt is not perfect, but she loved her brother. I believe that with all my heart. If she discovered who killed him, her wrath would be the stuff of nightmares. None of her guard would have dared such a thing.”
“Are you sure of that, Princess?”
“I think you might want to ask yourself, Mr. Cortez, Mr. Shelby, what King Taranis hopes to gain by this accusation. In fact, you might wonder what he might have gained from my father’s death.”
“Are you accusing the king of your father’s murder?” Shelby asked.
“No, I am simply saying that the Seelie Court has never been a friend of my father’s family. Whereas one of the queen’s guard killing my father would have earned them a death by torture. I think if King Taranis could have plausible deniability of the deed, he would reward his own guard for it.”
“Why would he kill Prince Essus?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you believe he was behind the assassination?” Veducci asked. That fine mind was all there in those eyes.
“I didn’t until now.”
“What do you mean by that, Princess?” he asked.
“I mean I can’t see what the king hopes to gain by the accusation against my guard. It makes no sense, and it makes me wonder what his true motives are here.”
“He seeks to divide you from us,” Frost said.
I looked at him, studying that handsome, arrogant face. I knew now that the cold arrogance was his mask when he was nervous. “Divide me from you how?”
“If he could plant such an ugly doubt in your mind, would you ever trust us again?”
I looked down at the table, at his pale hand on mine, my fingers against his skin. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“If you think about it,” Frost continued, “the rape accusation is also meant to make you doubt us.”
I nodded. “Maybe, but to what purpose?”
“I don’t know.”
“Unless he has taken leave of his senses at last,” Doyle said, “he has a purpose to all of this. But I confess that I do not see what it could gain him. I do not like that we seem to be deep in a game and I do not know what we are playing.”
Doyle stopped talking, and looked across the table at the lawyers. “Forgive us, please. We forgot where we were for a moment.”
“Do you believe that this is all some sort of intercourt politics?” Veducci asked.
“Yes,” Doyle said.