unpleasantness. But we have endured hardships far greater in our time, have we not?”
“Have we?” Cedric narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the other Faery. Bauchan had never lived in the Underground. His skin was not translucent white from a lack of sunlight, his eyes not dull for want of starlight. He outfitted himself with the trappings of Human luxury, and dared stand before one who had remained faithful to the Fae race and claim hardship.
Almost faithful, Cedric reminded himself, and felt another pang of sorrow at the remembrance of Dika.
Bauchan disregarded his comment—though he reserved his offense for a later time, Cedric was certain—and motioned for the other Faery to walk with him. “The captain of this vessel came to speak with me this morning. He believes that once we have put the harbor behind us, it will be safe for us to leave the hold and go to the upper deck. I have asked him, on your behalf, to provide extra rations at mealtime for the Royal Heir. She did not look well.”
“She is well enough.” The last thing Cedric needed now was to have to protect Cerridwen from Bauchan’s scheming in the guise of kindness. “What can we expect, in terms of rations, though? I do not worry for myself, but for some of these Faeries, who are near feral already. I have been out trooping, and I have seen how it can affect the weaker of our race.”
“You assume they are weak?” Bauchan’s eyes glittered with humor or malice, Cedric was not certain which.
He fixed the Ambassador with a gaze that was not threatening, but could not be misconstrued. “I believe that if they had been stronger of will, they would not have left with you.”
Bauchan took umbrage with this, true feeling finally visible in his expression. But only for a moment. A tight smile that grew a bit more relaxed, a bit more natural with each passing heartbeat, until it was nearly impossible to tell that he’d been angered in the first place, spread across his lips. “You will forgive them their weakness, I hope, now that you have joined them.”
“I have joined them out of duty to my Queene.” He did not wish to argue, but the man drew him into it so easily. The journey would be most interesting, as would its culmination. “I still have my own reservations.”
“Reservations,” Bauchan repeated with a soft laugh. “Yes, I understand. You fear that your mate will be in some danger from my Queene. And I do not begrudge you those fears. If I did not know Danae the way I know her—and that is to say, very well—and I were in your position, I might have the same fears.”
It was a well-rehearsed speech, Cedric credited Bauchan for that. “You can assure me, then, that she will not be a trophy for your Queene? That she will not be viewed as a threat, or that she will not be pressed into slavery in order to appease Danae’s ego?”
“My, but you Underground Fae are a ruthless kind, are you not?” Bauchan laughed through his expression of mock horror. “To have thought of such a thing!”
Cedric smiled with him, but his patience wore thin. “We are not newborn Humans, Bauchan. We are Fae. Born with a capacity for deceit far greater than any other species on Earth or in the Astral. It would be very unwise to forget that.”
“So true,” Bauchan agreed easily. “But then, why should Danae be threatened by the Royal Heir? She does not seek to make an issue of her…title, does she?”
Careful now, Cedric cautioned himself. He’d already given away enough to make Bauchan doubt their intentions, if not suspect the truth outright.
They came to the end of the aisleway, on the opposite side of the ship from where Cedric had left Cerridwen, to another row of shipping containers. A blanket stretched over a gap between two of them, and Bauchan gestured to it. “Come inside. I have nothing to offer to you, but then, you would not take it anyway.”
At least the Ambassador did not think him so thick as to fall for being gifted into service by a few crumbs or a cup of water. He followed Bauchan through the gap. Past the huge cargo containers, a space that spanned the width of the ship opened. Though it was large, it was crowded with all manner of objects so that it was nearly impossible to walk. Cushions, chests, even Human furniture of sofas and chairs, covered all of the floor space, and atop all of these perched Bauchan’s retinue.
“I had wondered where you had hidden them away,” Cedric said, picking his way carefully through the space between an ornamental table and a chest overflowing with silks and jewelry.
“We had much more room on the journey over.” Bauchan waved a hand apologetically. “We like to travel in comfort. You cannot blame us, can you?”
He could blame them for any number of things, but kept silent.
“It is a pity your Queene would not leave the Underground and join us,” Bauchan continued. “She would have had this whole chamber to herself.”
“And her life. But Queene Ayla did not require luxuries. She was a commoner before she took the throne, after the death of her mate, King Garret.” Cedric took care to speak of Cerridwen’s lineage. Though he did not wish to give the impression that Cerridwen would press her claim, there was no reason to let Bauchan forget that Cerridwen was—as far as the Court believed—a descendant of Queene Mabb.
Bauchan nodded. “Yes, Flidais told us the tale of how, exactly, Ayla came to the throne. We were quite enraptured by it, were we not, friends?”
A few murmurs of approval came from the Faeries draped languidly over the furnishings. They appreciated the blood and horror of the tale, nothing more. It sullied what had happened in the Underground, sullied Ayla, if they believed she were anything like them.
“She did what she had to do, in order to save the Kingdom.” A bit dramatic, but the truth. Garret would have turned the Faeries of the Underground into what Bauchan and his fellows—indeed, what Cedric expected all of Danae’s Court to be—had become. They had already been as weak-willed and self-indulgent. The Fae grumbling and desperate in the stronghold were lacking from this retinue in only one regard: access to material wealth. The selfishness was the same.
Bauchan’s eyes widened, as though he had meant no offense, had not meant to trivialize Ayla’s reign as he had. “Oh, and we greatly admire her for it,” he insisted. “Do we not?”
“Do not do that,” Cedric snapped as Bauchan’s companions began to mumble their agreement. “I am not impressed by such displays.”
“Nor would I expect you to be,” Bauchan agreed smoothly. “Not with the experience you have behind you. After all, if Queene Ayla saw fit to entrust you with her daughter, not only as a mate, but to be kept safe in her absence, you must be not only loyal, but highly intelligent.”
Cedric did not know how to respond, so he stayed silent while Bauchan made a show of pacing the small bit of cleared floor he occupied.
“But I wonder at how loyal you are to her,” Bauchan continued. “Was there no command from her that you should…Excuse me, I do not wish to pry into affairs that do not concern me.”
Cedric could not help his laughter at that. “Why would that concern you now, after you have meddled so thoroughly?”
Bauchan ignored him. “Ah, but I must know. Why did the Queene not charge you with returning some of her subjects? Surely, she wanted to see the Lightworld Court flourish even after her death?”
“My Queene had but one mission,
