“I know the story.”
Indeed, she did. Her mother, falling in love with her father in the fairy way, at first sight, had given herself to him. She was his forever, she had told him. He, in turn, had come to love her. Neither had any real idea of what that would mean, and neither had anticipated how hard their road together would turn out to be.
“I did not believe in your father or your mother, and I was wrong about both,” her grandfather finished. “That does not happen often to me. I am the River Master, and I am leader of the fairy-born, and I am not allowed to be wrong. But I was wrong here. Your parents were brave and resourceful, and they have become the leaders this land has long needed. Your father is a King in every sense of the word, a ruler who manages to be fair to all and partial to none. I admire him for it greatly.”
He gave her a searching look. “Yet you appear to think otherwise. You appear to think that perhaps you know better than he does.”
She tightened her lips in determination. “In this one case, yes, I do. My father is not infallible.”
“No,” her grandfather agreed. “Nor are you. I suggest you ponder that in the days ahead.”
“Grandfather …”
He held up one hand to silence her, the fringe of black hair a warning flag that shimmered in the half-light. “Enough said about this. I am pleased you have come to me, though I wish it had been under better circumstances. It is a visit that should not have happened. You wish to use me as a lever against your father and mother, and I will not allow it, Mistaya. You must learn to solve your own problems and not to rely on others to solve them for you. I am not about to interfere with your parents’ wishes in the matter of Libiris, or to give you sanctuary, as you call it. Hiding out in the lake country will not bring an end to your problems.”
She felt the strength drain from her. “But I’m only asking—”
“Only asking me to fight your battles for you,” he finished, cutting her short. “I will not do that. I will not be your advocate in this matter. I do not care to challenge the authority of a parent over his child—not even when the child is one I love as much as I love you. I have been a parent with children, and I know how it feels to be interfered with by an outsider. I will not be a party to that here.”
He stood up abruptly. “You may spend the night, enjoy a banquet prepared in your honor, and in the morning you will return home. My decision is made. My word is final. You will go to your room now. I will see you at dinner.”
She was still trying to change his mind as he turned and walked away.
She was taken to a small cottage close to the amphitheater, one that offered sleeping accommodations not only for her but for the G’home Gnomes, as well. Under other circumstances, she would never have been housed close to them, but she thought that perhaps her grandfather was punishing her for disobeying the code that forbade her from bringing outsiders into the city. Or perhaps he thought she wanted them there, it was hard to tell. He didn’t seem to be the man she knew anymore. She was bitterly disappointed in his refusal to let her stay with him. She had never once really believed he wouldn’t. She knew he loved her, and she had been certain that this alone would be enough to persuade him to take her in, at least for a few days. Sending her away so abruptly was difficult for her to understand.
Alone in her sleeping chamber, the door tightly closed and the voices of the G’home Gnomes a faint murmur from the other side of the wall, she sat on her bed and tried hard not to cry. She never cried, she reminded herself. She was too old for that. But the tears came anyway, leaking out at the corners of her eyes, and she could not make them stop. She cried silently for a long time. What was she going to do?
She didn’t have an answer when she walked down the hall to take her bath. She didn’t have one when she was summoned to dinner, either. She ate mechanically of a very lavish feast and was thoroughly miserable the whole time. Her grandfather’s family sat all around her, and her cousins had questions about life in her father’s world, which she answered as briefly as possible, not caring about any of it. Poggwydd and Shoopdiesel were allowed to eat with the family, but placed at the low end of the table away from everyone except a handful of small children who had asked if they could sit with the strange-looking pair and who spent the entire meal staring up at them in a kind of bemused wonderment.
Mistaya spared them only a glance, somehow convinced that their presence had destroyed any chance she had of convincing her grandfather to let her stay with him. She knew it was a ridiculous conclusion, but she couldn’t help thinking it anyway. There had to be some explanation for his refusal to consider her request more carefully. There had to be someone to blame for this.
Dinner went on for a long time, and when it was over there were welcome speeches, music, dancing and a whole lot of other nonsense that left her feeling even more out of sorts. Her grandfather did not even pretend to be interested in the reasons for her foul mood. He spoke with
