“Then challenge me, Miniver. Make yourself queen, if you can.”
If Miniver’s anger could have flown across the room and struck Andais, the queen would have died where she sat, but Miniver’s anger did not have that kind of power. The day when the fey, any fey, could have killed with simply an angry thought was centuries past.
Andais looked at Nerys. “You, Nerys, do you wish to be queen? Do you wish it enough to challenge me to a duel? Defeat me and you can be queen.”
Nerys just stood there, staring at her with tri-grey eyes that nearly mirrored the queen’s own. Nerys’s long black hair was done in a series of complicated braids that hung like a heavy cloak at her back. Her dress was white with touches of black in the trim, the belt, the lace at her wrists. She looked cool and collected. There was no sense of outrage that Miniver vibrated with.
“I would never presume to challenge the Queen of Air and Darkness to a duel. It would be suicide.” Her voice was quiet, and somehow dark. But there was no anger in it, nothing that could give true offense.
“But attacking me from secret, an assassination attempt, that would not be suicide, would it?” Andais’s smile was not pleasant. “Not if you didn’t get caught.”
Nerys just stood there, looking up at the throne, with no hint of fear, no panic, no anything. If Andais thought she could frighten Nerys into a confession, she was wrong. Nerys was going to force Andais to produce proof. Did she not understand that we had proof? Did she think that with Nuline’s death, she was safe?
“Assassination is a pretty business, so long as you are not discovered.” Andais looked down the line of standing nobles, I think so that she did not single Nerys out, but it was like many things tonight, in trying to do one thing, another thing was accomplished.
Miniver began to move through her people to the space between her table and the next. Some of her people touched her arm; she shook her head, and they let her go. She walked out from between the tables, her back ramrod-straight, like something carved of gold and amber.
“Do you have something to say, Miniver?” Andais asked.
“I challenge the princess Meredith to a duel.” For someone who had seemed so angry, she was strangely calm as she said it.
People at her table cried, No, do not do this. She ignored them, and kept her Seelie face pointed toward the dais. She never looked at me, only at Andais. She asked for my life, but it was not me she asked it of.
“No, Miniver, it will not be so easy as all that. The princess has had one assassination attempt tonight. We do not need two.”
“I would have preferred my spells to work earlier tonight, but if she will not die from a distance, then I will do it here, now.”
My face gave nothing away, because it took a few seconds for me to realize what she’d said. Andais looked amused, her eyes glittering.
Doyle had stood, putting himself more in front of me. My other guards moved to shield me from her sight, and whatever she might do. I had to peer between them to see that more of the armored guards spilled around her to form a half circle. She was as tall as any of them, and there was nothing fragile or fearful about that shining figure. She seemed very sure of herself.
“Are you admitting, before the entire court, that you tried to assassinate Princess Meredith earlier tonight?” Andais asked.
“I am,” Miniver said, and her voice rang through the room, matter-of-fact, as if now that the worst was happening she didn’t need her anger anymore.
“Take her to the Hallway of Mortality, and leave extra guards.”
They began to close around her, but Miniver’s voice carried: “I have given challenge. That challenge must be answered before my punishment begins. That is our law.” I think the guards might have managed to take her away, but there were other voices.
“Regrettable as it is to agree with such an undeniable criminal,” Afagdu said, “Lady Miniver is correct. She has challenged the princess, and that challenge must be answered before any action may be taken about her crime.”
Galen spoke from behind me. “So she tries to kill Merry earlier, fails, and now she gets another try. I don’t think so.”
“It is our law.” Doyle’s hand had reached out, and I took it, resting my face against the nude line of his hip. Nervous touching.
“No,” Andais said, “the young knight is right. To allow her to go forward with this challenge is to reward her for trying to assassinate a royal heir. Such treachery will not be rewarded.”
“When it was Cel and his allies who challenged the princess over and over, you did not intercede,” Nerys said. “You were more than willing that Meredith take the field when it was your son behind the duels. We all knew that Cel meant her death. Meredith did her best to give no offense to anyone, yet sidhe after sidhe found an excuse to challenge her. When you challenge a mortal being to duel after duel against the immortal sidhe, what is it but an assassination plot by another name?”
Andais shook her head, not as if she did not agree but as if she didn’t want to hear. “Take Miniver away, now!”
“No one is above the law, except the queen herself, and the princess is not yet queen.” This from another of the lords who had stood when Miniver gave her rant against my mortality.
“Have you turned against me, too, Ruarc?” Andais asked.
“I speak the law, nothing more,” he said.
“You did not stop the duels before,” Nerys said.
“I stop it now,” Andais said.
“Are you saying that Meredith is too weak to defend her claim to the throne?” Afagdu asked.
“If that is true,” Nerys said, “then let her take the throne, for once she is queen we can challenge her and if she refuses, she will be forced to relinquish her crown.”
Maelgwn spoke, and he, like Afagdu, had not been one of the nobles who stood. “Princess Meredith fights now, or later, my queen. Too many of the houses have lost faith in her. She must regain that faith or she will never be queen.”
“We have not lost faith,” Miniver said from behind her wall of guards, “for you cannot lose what you have never had.”
Doyle’s hand tightened on mine, and I slid my arm around his waist. I’d been trapped by our laws before. I probably knew the laws concerning dueling better than most, because I had looked for a loophole three years ago, before I’d been forced to flee the court before I was dueled to death. And everyone had known that Cel was behind it all. If someone else hadn’t been trying to kill me, again, it would have been good to hear the truth about Cel spoken aloud in open court.I clung to Doyle, realizing in a strange way that I was right back where I’d begun three years ago. I’d left for fear that the next duel would be my last, and now here I was, challenged again. Challenged not just by a sidhe, but by the head of an entire house. There are three ways to be head of a house. You can inherit it, you can be elected into it, or you can challenge one after the other of a house until you either destroy them all or they concede that you are the better fighter, and they will not stand in your way. Guess which way Miniver had made her mark in our court?
Miniver had been one of the last of the Seelie nobles to ask admittance to our court. She had waited a handful of days until she found which of the noble houses was most respected for their magic, then she had challenged them, one after the other, until five duels later they had given her their respect, and their allegiance.
As the challenged, I could choose weapons. Before I’d come into my hands of power I would have chosen knives, or guns if it were still allowed, but now I had a hand of power that was perfect for this challenge. Before we fought, we would each nick our body, and taste each other’s blood. A small cut was all the hand of blood needed. The problem was, if I chose magic and Miniver didn’t bleed to death fast enough, she would kill me.
I spoke with my face pressed against Doyle’s skin. “The sidhe never call it a duel to the death. What blood does she call?”
Doyle’s deep voice cut across the murmur of voices. “The princess asks to what blood does her challenger call?”
Miniver’s voice rang out clear and strangely triumphant, as if we’d been silly to ask, “To third blood, of course, and if I could ask for a duel to the death, I would do it. But the immortal sidhe cannot die, unless tainted by mortal blood.”
I stood up, one arm wrapped tight around Doyle’s waist. The men moved back to make a sort of curtain through which I could see her. The guards around her had done the same, though she was not being hugged tight by anyone. No, she stood tall and straight and full of that awful arrogance, that surety that was always the sidhe’s greatest weakness.
“You will drink of my blood, Miniver, and if my blood truly makes you mortal, then you risk true death.”
“I am content either way, Meredith. If I kill you, as I believe I will, then you cannot take the throne and contaminate this court with your mortality. If you by some oddity slay me, give me true death, then my death will show the entire court what their fate will be if they take you as their queen and make blood oath to you. If by my death or my life, I can keep your mortality from spreading through the Unseelie like a curse, then I am more than content.”
One of the nobles from her house called, “Lady Miniver, she carries the hand of blood now.”