The queen said nothing. She only stared at him, her fingers clenching around the polished rose-quartz armrests of her throne, her perfect, beautiful face revealing no hint of what she might be thinking. The entire room seemed to hold its breath—including the guards who still loosely gripped Bella’s arm.
“You’re aiming far too high and assuming far too much about me, Ronan. I dislike it.”
“Forgive me.” He inclined his head. “I seek only to give you what the Phaendir want desperately to possess. Aren’t you at least a little curious about why they want it so badly? I am.” The queen jerked her chin upward. “Before I make my decision, tell me your terms. Tell me what kind of trade you want me to make for the piece.”
“I require that Bella remains unharmed and unpunished for coming with me to obtain the piece, and for her to retain her position in the Seelie Court, no matter what, until the natural end of her days. No matter what information may come to light about her in the future, no matter what she may do, so long as it’s within the bounds of Seelie Court law.”
The wording was precise and he did that for a reason. The queen was known to try and wriggle through the loopholes of a promise.
The Summer Queen eyed Bella with undisguised curiosity. “That makes me think Bella has a secret or two.”
“No matter what secrets might be revealed about her, she must never be cast from the Seelie Court.” Ronan’s voice was steel to the Queen’s ice and contained a thread of resonating magick of his own.
“Not her progeny either. Or her husband. All in her family must be safe from exile.”
“I take it you’re not finished, since you haven’t asked for your life yet.” Ronan inclined his head. “I wish to retain my life and for all charges against me to be dropped.” Ronan turned and met Bella’s gaze. Holding it, he finished, “And to marry Bella, if she’ll have me.” The queen drummed her fingers. “You’re asking for too much. Two lives, Ronan? No punishment for your crimes and a happy ending with Bella?” She shook her head. “You’ll undermine my credibility, and my enemies will begin to think I’m going soft and sentimental. I can’t have that.” She considered them for a long moment. “I will bargain for one life. Whose is it, Ronan? Yours or Bella’s?”
“No!” Bella shouted. “Don’t do this, Caoilainn Elspeth Muirgheal!” Names had power, so she invoked all of the queen’s. To no avail.
“Answer!” the queen demanded of Ronan.
Bella knew what Ronan would say before he said it. She had no question he would protect her life over his. Tears pricked her eyes and choked her throat. “No, Ronan, please!” The guards clamped down on Bella’s arms and drew her backward. She kicked and struggled against their strength. This couldn’t be happening.
Ronan met her eyes. Sorrow had turned his pupils a dark blue. “Bella’s life will be spared.”
“I thought as much. Now reveal the piece to me.”
“Ronan! No!”
The guards’ pull was something she couldn’t fight, couldn’t shake off. Inexorably, they dragged her backward, through the huge double doors of the throne room and into the corridor, where her cries echoed as they uncuffed her. Just as the massive doors swung shut, she glimpsed the piece of the bosca fadbh floating eerily in front of Ronan and a guard behind him, a silver sword glinting viciously in the reflected light of the piece of the bosca fadbh.
ELEVEN
The doors slammed shut, Bella stared at the closed entrance to the throne room for a moment in complete shock and then rushed toward the doors, only to be blocked by an implacable row of shining rose and gold.
She whirled and ran down the corridor, pushing past anyone who got in her way, until she reached the front doors of the tower and burst through them. In the square outside the Seelie Court, she went down hard on her knees in the snow. It immediately soaked through the fabric of her jeans and numbed her skin, but that only made that part of her body match the rest of her.
All around her, revelers stopped their singing and laughing and stared at her. To Bella it truly was the longest, darkest night of the year.
Before her, on the other side of the square, loomed the Black Tower of the Unseelie Court. All the dark art she’d tried so hard to suppress fluttered deep within her and rose on grief-encrusted wings. All the curses she’d never given voice to beat against the box within her mind where she’d locked them, those for the queen most especially strong. Long-repressed magick bubbled inside her, ready to explode.
She closed her eyes. No. She might have Unseelie blood flowing through her veins, but she wouldn’t give in to the impulse to hurt others because she was feeling hurt herself. That was not Bella and never would be.
Maybe she could manifest something good. Perhaps instead of weaving curses, she could weave a wish instead. Maybe if it came from her heart . . . She closed her eyes and concentrated as hard as she could on the outcome she wanted. Magick bubbled out of her like water quenching dry earth.
Please, Danu, please.
It wasn’t possible that she could have come this far, lost Ronan for so many years, only to find him and lose him again this way. His soul was a perfect match for hers, singing and twining in a beautiful song within her heart. Even his magick complemented hers—more than she could have ever known.
This ending simply wasn’t possible.
Would she be able to feel it when they killed him? Would a cold, dark place open up inside her? Maybe they’d already done it. Maybe he was already dead.
She looked up at the Unseelie Court rising across the square. Around her, revelers gave her a wide berth as they sang Yuletide carols. They downed mugs of warm cider and toasted one another with Wassail bowls, yelling in the traditional Old Norse, “Ves heill!” Be well and be in good health.
Bella dry-heaved in the snow.
She would never again step foot in the Rose Tower. She could never look upon the queen’s face again and not want to give in to the dark impulse within to curse her. Maybe she would give in to the dark pull of the Unseelie Court. It was time to put her fear aside and start a new life.
Someone touched her shoulder and Bella looked up to see Aislinn. The entire square had fallen completely silent. All the fae stared at someone standing behind Bella.
Taking Aislinn’s offered hand, Bella stood and turned.
The queen stood in the square, backlit by the light spilling through the open doors of the Seelie Court and dressed in a thick white fur coat, the hem trailing in the snow. No red spray of blood marred its perfection. Hurray for small favors.