“You tell me. Elqaneve . . . Kelvashan as a whole . . . they are steeped in antiquity. They are far more proper than the Fae, and they change only in slow, slow stages. I can’t imagine Trenyth being happy to deliver this news. Maybe we can talk some sense into him.”
The road sped by in a watery blur as the rain pounded down. Neither Camille nor I felt much like talking, though I did mention briefly to her that we might want to interview Violet’s boyfriend—Tanne Baum. She giggled then, and I couldn’t help but join her. Our mother had sung “O Tannebaum” to us over and over when we were little, and even though I knew it was juvenile, the thought of a grown man—one of the woodland Fae at that—being named after a Christmas tree seemed to spark off a much needed tension release.
As we came to the FH-CSI and pulled into the parking lot, Chase was already bounding up to the doors. We followed him through, for once hurrying to keep up with him. He slammed through the doors, then into the medic unit, with us hot on his heels. There, Mallen was arguing with Trenyth, while a group of guards kept watch. They saw Chase and stiffened into what I recognized as a battle stance.
I leaped forward, grabbing Chase by the arm and swinging him around. “Dude, if you engage them in this mood, they won’t think twice about taking you down, and if they take you down, all the Nectar of Life in the world won’t help you. You’ll be dead and gone. You capiche?”
He glared at me, but stopped in his tracks. “You’d better do something, then, before I do.”
“We’ll do what we can. No promises. We have no control over the Elfin government, you know. We have a treaty with them—Y’Elestrial does, but there’s nothing covering this sort of mess. That, I can guarantee you.” I pointed to the doors. “Go now. Sit in your office and talk to Yugi while we try to sort out this matter.”
He grumbled, cursing a blue streak under his breath, but then he turned and stomped out to go talk to his second-in-command. As the door closed behind him, I turned around to find Camille already in an argument with Trenyth.
“How the fuck can you do this?” Her hands on her hips, she leaned toward him. “Sharah just had a baby. Today. Do you understand? And Chase is that child’s father.”
Trenyth folded his arms. No need to read body language on that stance. “While I value and appreciate your input, and your loyalty for your friend, there’s nothing you can say to change this matter. Understand: by morning light, the entire land of Kelvashan lies in ruins. Elqaneve has been flattened, and still the storm moves on, crossing our land as it strikes village after village. The forests are burning. The dead number in the tens of thousands. We are desolate—and there is a good chance that, unless enough soldiers from other lands arrive, the goblins who are on the march to our city gates will take our lands. Within one night, we have become a dying race.”
Camille fell silent.
I shuddered. “Tell us, then, why do you need Sharah there? Isn’t that going to put her in danger?”
He frowned, staring at the floor. “Yes, of course it will. But you must understand that the people need someone to look up to and to lead them. I am a puppet, I was Queen Asteria’s right hand, but I am not the leader they long for. Sharah—even if she doesn’t have the experience the Queen did—she has the blood of royalty flowing in her veins. Our people will believe in her. They will follow her, and they will take heart enough to fight the coming darkness.”
“But why can’t she take her baby? And why not Chase?” Camille pleaded with him, but the Elfin advisor simply shook his head.
“She cannot bring a half-breed into Court. These are not my choices, girls. I would not see a problem with it, but this is the way of our people and there has been so much disruption in the past twenty-four hours, that one more shift will dishearten them further. If Sharah returns now, we can deal with the impact of her child later, once things are settled. This does not have to be forever. Merely until our people are free of the coming threat. We may not have a palace, but we can have a Queen again.”
“I will do it.” Sharah’s voice came from the door. I jerked around to see her, sitting in a wheelchair, her face a tangle of emotions.
“What? But what about—?” I stared at her, but then I let my words drift off. Her gaze was filled with enough anger and loss already, without me adding to it. And she was afraid—I could see that.
Another emotion was wrapped up there, one that I—and especially Camille—understood all too well. Duty. She had a duty to her people. To her aunt. To her country and land. We had grown up the daughters of a guardsman, and the code of honor, of fulfilling one’s obligations, had been drilled into us from the time we could barely talk. Sharah knew her duty, and if it meant giving up that which was most precious to her, she would do so. For the good of her people. For the good of her land.
“Who will take care of your child?” I walked over and knelt down beside her.
“Trenyth, send a wet nurse through, and a nanny. They will stay with Chase and our child. Also, guards. I do not want my family left unattended.” As she struggled to stand, wincing, Trenyth knelt at her feet.
“Please, remain seated, Princess Sharah.” He snapped his fingers at one of the guards. “Do as she commands, and alert the portal guards that we will be returning, and that the Queen-Elect will need transport and healers.”
I knelt by Sharah’s side. “Who will tell Chase?”
She winced. “I will. He is my beloved, and the father of my child. We have to pick out a name before I go home. Can you please get him for me? I’ll be in that room over there.” She pointed to an empty office.
With a sinking heart, I headed to Chase’s office, dreading every single step along the way.
Chapter 14
The news went over just about like we’d expected it to. I’d asked Yugi and a couple of the other men to join us so they could keep Chase from throwing a punch at Trenyth, but when he stalked out of the room where he’d talked to Sharah, the stark look on his face said everything. He slammed past Trenyth, into another office, rattling the walls with the force of the door.
Sharah wheeled herself out, looking pale and weary. “That didn’t go over well.” She met my gaze. “Delilah, he’s going to need you. He’s going to need all of you over the next months. He’s angry and he threatened to keep our daughter away from me forever, since I’m not going to look after her.” She rubbed her temples. “I told him to name her whatever he liked, that I’d love whatever he chose.”
I glanced over her head at the room. “Is he coming out?”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t bet on it. Not till after I leave. He’s just upset. I understand—I’m upset too. But with what happened? My people need me. I knew there might be a chance this day would come, but I hoped the call wouldn’t be for me.”
She reached out for my hand, and I took it, squeezing to calm her trembling. Tears were glistening in her eyes. I leaned close.
“I’ll watch out for them. We all will. And you can always call us, we’ll find a way to get your daughter over there for a visit. I promise you this.” I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed it gently, then smoothed her hair back. She was doing everything she could to hold on; I could see it in her eyes. She was trying her damnedest to remain calm. Which was just as well because when she ascended the throne, she would have to wear a mask in public. The Queen wasn’t allowed to show fear, or doubt, or loss. She had to be strong, she had to be the anchor for the populace.
And with Sharah’s hormones . . . a thought crossed my mind, and before I thought, I blurted out a question. “What are they going to do about your milk?”