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Index
Victoria was sitting in the Day Room—once the conservatory, the windows had been enclosed decades ago with stone, the glass panes switched for frosted glass, and the space between the windows and the light-blocking stone filled with electric lights, since the bioluminescent kind used by most nocturnal peoples that traded with Faerie did not put out the proper spectrum for diurnal creatures to be healthy. It doubled as a fine room for doing anything requiring light, such as fine handcrafts. Victoria was currently working on laceweight crochet, chatting with Felice as he embroidered on his frame, Evangeline sitting next to them and repairing some beading on one of Aloysius’ show gowns.
Phrixus and Michaela found them in the middle of this peaceful bliss, and felt rather guilty about interrupting. ‘Ah, Signora Blackstone? There has been a development and you are being offered a council seat.’
Victoria’s crochet hook paused, and she looked up at Phrixus, standing in the doorway. ‘Well,’ she said, with a faint smile, ‘it’s about time.’ She set the crochet aside in her basket carefully, and got off the sofa, getting back in her chair and unlocking the brakes.
‘Congratulations,’ Evangeline said warmly.
‘They need more women on that council,’ Felice said supportively.
‘You’re taking my seat,’ Michaela said, from the doorway. ‘I’m stepping down.’
‘I see.’ Victoria didn’t let on she was surprised—then again, she wouldn’t, Michaela knew her well; she was the consummate Lady, and never showed an ounce of emotion unless it was on purpose. She’d consider it rude to express shock about something like this.
She was, also, sharp as the tiny crochet hooks she used—it was likely she would have worked out all of the wherefores herself. ‘Are you not coming, Maestro?’ she asked, as she got to the doorway and noticed Phrixus wasn’t following her and Michaela into the hallway.
‘No,’ Phrixus said, ‘I have given my seat up also—to the clowns’ representative.’
‘Pippin?’ Felice guessed.
‘Pippin named another,’ Phrixus said, as he sat down at the ornate harp and began to tune it, just as the door closed behind Victoria’s chair.
⁂
Michaela briefed Victoria as they walked back to the council chamber—it wasn’t far, though it was up one level, as the council chamber overlooked the garden. Victoria listened, and only spoke once the elevator was going up.
‘I’m proud of you, dear.’
Michaela fought the urge to blush and duck her head, in vain. ‘Aw shucks, ma’am,’ she said, her accent thickening, ‘I was just doin’ what you taught me.’
‘I know,’ came the serene answer, and Victoria waited for Michaela to open the elevator gates. ‘I’m quite pleased to finally have a seat. The family shall be so very pleased, I don’t mind saying.’
‘And now there’s two of you,’ Michaela said, with a bit of a smile.
‘And now there’s two of us,’ Victoria agreed, wheeling out of the elevator car. Michaela followed her long enough to open the door for her, the frisson between them still rather high; Michaela had always been deeply affected by Victoria, and while they had never said anything about it—Victoria was married after all, and Michaela was still hesitant to acknowledge her own sexuality—Michaela still enjoyed the way Victoria ordered her around, and praised her.
‘Thank you, dear,’ Victoria said, after getting into the council chamber. ‘Now, run along, enjoy the party.’
Michaela’s blush was visible; she bowed to Victoria. ‘Ma’am.’ And left, feeling… very strange, walking away from things. Relieved, guilty that she felt relieved….
Well, she thought, the decision was made and committed to. There was no going back. She’d better just get used to this new reality. And if it was a relief, then it was a relief. She’d just deal with that too.
⁂
Victoria took in the rather dishevelled table, and smiled as Heather got up and heaved one of the carved mahogany chairs up over her head, and carried it over to put it out of the way in a corner of the room. Victoria took her place in the blank spot. ‘Well,’ she said, getting out her crochet once more. ‘It is a great honour to take my place here with all of you. Pippin, dear, do you want to be here, now that you’ve established your representative?’
Pippin hummed. ‘No peas. I go now.’ She hopped off the table, going over to the balcony and letting herself out.
‘The Van Helsing briefed me on the way here,’ Victoria said as she continued crocheting. ‘Frankly, I think it’s long overdue that we extend formal invitation to Eglenor. They’ll need more than one seat, you know. I believe there are five kingdoms, is that right, Aix?’
Aix quickly tallied the various peoples on his fingers. ‘There’s… the troll nation, the elves, the tiermenschen—that’s all the animal folks, the Dead—I’m not sure what their deal is, but they’re “cold” and “dead” and ruled by the Snow Queen—the dwarves of course, aaand… well, the humans I suppose. Oh, and—it would be good to extend invitation to the Sugarplum Kingdom, they get shafted in diplomatic negotiations and need allies. And that’s just the people we know of. So that’s seven. Which is not the same array Eglenor will offer—they’ll want five diplomats from the human kingdoms only.’
‘…My word, you were just sitting on that?’ Roseblade asked, fanning himself. Aix pressed his lips together to try and hide the pleased smile.
‘Amazing, what happens when you don’t antagonise someone,’ Heather said with an arched brow.
‘The weres need representatives too. All of them.’
‘Seconded,’ Victoria said immediately.
‘And the smallfolk,’ Aix said, feeling bolder.
‘Yes! And we ought to do it before Auntie Summer can send someone to replace that weed,’ Garnet said.
‘Absolutely not,’ Roseblade said firmly. ‘There’s quite enough of the good neighbours on this council already.’
‘A cat may look at a king,’ René said, and Cameron nodded in agreement.
‘And how will they all travel here?’ was all the King asked.
‘One of the very cool things we get if we treat with Eglenor is travelling mirrors,’ Aix said. ‘And I’m sure if you let the Nockers have a seat, they’d feel a little more amenable to the idea of making it easier for us to get here. No guarantees, but if you’re nice and include people…’ he trailed off.
‘I think it’s a fine idea,’ Mr Asher said.
‘I do think all the peoples of Elgenor ought to be here,’ Roseblade said. ‘I simply don’t see why Heather cannot represent the smallfolk.’
‘I’m of the sea,’ Heather said. ‘Just say you’re afraid of them, Englishman.’
Roseblade made several very well-bred sputtering noises behind his fan. ‘I am not afraid. I am a pirate and a vampire, madam! I have taken on the East India Company!’
‘I think more peoples is a good idea,’ Mistress said quietly. ‘We can only widen our knowledge of what is going on in the world, with more perspectives.’
‘Well the more the merrier, I say,’ Hext said.
‘Oh yes, and think of the orgies!’ Garnet said. ‘Those are traditional,’ he explained to Victoria.
‘I would expect nothing less,’ was all she said.
‘Merrows ought to be here,’ Heather said.
‘This, I agree with,’ Milady said, surprising everyone. ‘I think it wise, as I did with Heather. I see no reason Eglenor matters to us, they are not part of our world.’
‘They will be,’ Victoria said evenly. ‘And soon. Come now, Milady, surely you of all people think far into the future?’
‘She’s got ya there,’ Scarpa said, all of his many eyes laughing. ‘Sides, as one of the two resident doctors, plagues don’t last forever. No matter how boneheaded people are about ‘em.’
‘…That’s genuinely very comforting, Scarpa, thank you,’ Aix said quietly.
‘Sure. And anyway, it ain’t jumpin’ the species barrier, an’ we got masks and soap and vaccines. The new kids love all that stuff.’
‘The reluctance King Whitney has is mostly fear,’ Victoria said, as though he were simply a recalcitrant cousin.
‘And because the Grimwelt has become a haven for outcasts,’ Aix said, gaze down and brows raised in what he thought of that. ‘And because he knows what America’s like by now, land of equality and all.’ Without meaning to, he slipped into a posh, clipped kind of accent. ‘My god, the peasants might think they’re people. Soon they’ll start getting ideas, and thinking….’
René laughed, and he wasn’t the only one; Roseblade giggled behind his fan, and almost everyone chuckled—even the King. Cthulhu only didn’t because humour was still alien to him, and Milady was… well, Aix was getting the impression she hated him, and that it was more that she didn’t like new things. Knowing what he did about Ancient Egypt, he could understand, however irritating it was to him, however much his brain screamed that he needed her approval, because he needed everyone’s approval, always—that was getting quieter, though, as he got older.
‘This realm is a world of opportunity,’ Hext’s voice was seldom heard; but Victoria’s presence helped more people than Aix feel a bit freer. ‘If we don’t offer them a seat at this table, they’ll offer someone else their considerable talents and skills—and this isn’t faerie magic we’re talking about. This is fairy tale magic. Curses, and wishes, and magic mirrors.’
‘And witches, I imagine,’ the King said softly. Aix was no longer an enigma, now that he had seen the boy tested more than once—he had mettle, had magic much like The Blackstone’s. Yet, unlike The Blackstone, Aix had the rough manners of a peasant boy, despite his education. The King had thought him quailing, from how he had acted upon their meeting—but he was far from fearful; he had a warrior’s temperament, not a scholar’s.
‘Someone must go there for us, then,’ he said, making his decision.
‘I’ll go,’ Aix said.
‘I shall accompany him,’ Roseblade said immediately.
‘I want to go too!’ Garnet said eagerly.
‘No,’ Heather said, ‘you’re a noble.’
‘Well yes, that’s why I should go!’ Garnet feigned confusion, but Heather was very much older than him.
‘You are not accompanying my boy, Roseblade,’ René said firmly, his arms tightening around Aix a little; Aix didn’t fight it, leaning into the way René pulled Aix against himself possessively. ‘I know you of old.’
‘You’re just afraid I’ll show him a good time and he won’t come back!’ Roseblade lilted, gesturing cheekily with his fan.
‘I’m afraid you’ll upset him with your English barbarism,’ René riposted.
‘Barbarism!’ Roseblade made a very drag queenish noise of offence, at that. Aix could picture feathers fluffing in threat. ‘I am a gentleman.’
‘That is,’ said René, still serene in contrast to how ruffled Roseblade was, ‘exactly what I’m concerned about.’
Aix had never had people fight over him before.
He loved it.
Cthulhu observed this with confusion, Why are you delighted they are fighting over you as though you are an object?
Treasures are also objects. Aix answered happily, I’m a submissive, that means I like being objectified in this specific way by men I’m attracted to. Also, they’re not seriously thinking of me as an object. It’s a game.
…I think I understand why clowns wish to remain pets, and why Pippin named you their voice.
Aix startled slightly, at that—not visibly, but Cthulhu saw it in his thoughts. And then, his amusement and wonder at how he hadn’t put that together. Meanwhile, the boys were now done arguing and now lekking.
‘I have a ship!’
‘So do I,’ René said.
‘You do not! I set it on fire in 1780!’
‘I got a new one.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because you set the last one on fire.’
‘I think René, Aix, Cameron, and Hext ought to go,’ Victoria cut in smoothly. ‘I need someone to stay behind and teach me the ropes; and who better than a pirate?’ she said, giving Roseblade a very pretty smile.
‘Oh, well-played, madam. Well-played, indeed,’ he said in a much lower voice than before, his smile curling at the ends.
‘I still want to g—’ Garnet said, sulking. Asher did something with his hand under the table, and Garnet stopped looking quite so mutinous, shivering and looking a little dazed. ‘—wh—what was I saying?’
‘Not at the table, Asher,’ the King said, but in a soft voice.
‘If I’m not to eat at a table, where am I to eat?’ Asher teased.
Eat? Cthulhu wondered, with the feeling that Aix surely knew what Asher meant.
Ask him, go on. Aix shared that he suspected, but didn’t know for certain.
‘May I ask what it is you eat?’
‘Pleasure,’ Mr Asher said, smiling. ‘I am why we must have orgies.’
‘Oh, don’t say it like it’s such a burden, dear; it isn’t,’ Mistress assured him. ‘My Honey is looking forward to meeting you.’
Aix could sense Cthulhu was very confused by this answer, and was still working out what to say when Mr Asher, picking up on the same confusion, went on, ‘The way vampires drink blood, so must I feed from humanity in my way.’
More confusion, and Aix realised, with a start, he’d been so caught up explaining humans that he’d not gotten to the basics of monsters, yet.
‘Blood?’
There was a heavy silence.
‘Do you… not know we drink blood?’
‘I forgot to explain this,’ Aix said, fighting the urge to clutch his face, mortified and looking down into his lap. ‘I… we were still explaining Earth and regular animals….’ He felt awful because it was his fault that Cthulhu was being put in this position, that everything was awkward, and…
Aix, please, stop. Do I feel angry to you?
Aix closed his eyes, as Cthulhu shared his current emotional state with Aix; he wasn’t upset, or embarrassed—he didn’t really know what those things were, because his species wasn’t that social.
Deep breathing always made everything worse, for Aix; instead, he leaned against René harder, and Gogo came over with a little chirp, and Aix helped the kitten onto his complicated lap situation, he and René both petting him. The purrs helped.
‘There is quite a lot to explain to a visitor, before getting to the supernatural,’ Victoria said, supportively.
‘That’s very true,’ René agreed. ‘Particularly when the person showing you around is one so in love with Nature, in all of her endless variety.’
‘I think our elder should explain us,’ Roseblade said, with much deference, looking to Milady’s veiled figure. ‘Don’t you, Milady?’
It was a peace-offering; she acknowledged it silently as such. She would not have lived this long if she held to grudges. ‘That is the King’s right, he is the one with a child.’
‘May I please have the story?’
‘Oh yes, Tătic, please?’ Claudiu said, bright pink but with a steady voice. ‘You tell very good stories.’
‘Well,’ the King said, his tone gentle in a way it wasn’t when he spoke to anyone else, ‘since we lost our grand storyteller some decades ago, I suppose I will do my best.’
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