“It’s, um, a toy,” I explained, immediately feeling idiotic. The gentry weren’t technologically advanced, but even they could figure that one out.
“It’s lovely,” she said, touching the seams. “We can’t match this kind of workmanship. Thank you.”
“Oh, and well…I honestly didn’t think there was anything else I could give that the baby wouldn’t already have. So, instead, I made a donation in its name to a children’s charity. Or rather, once we know its name, I’ll finalize the donation.”
Forgetting the teddy bear, she looked up at me, clearly perplexed. “I don’t understand.” Those gathered apparently didn’t either, judging from the curious expressions.
“I, um, well, gave money to a group that helps sick kids. They’ll use that money to take care of them, and it’ll be…” I grasped for something gentry-friendly. “…it’ll be done in your baby’s honor.”
A supreme look of delight flooded her gorgeous face, and I knew without a doubt she wasn’t faking it. She understood, and she liked the gift.
“It’s very generous,” Kiyo explained to her. The smoldering message his eyes gave me indicated he had a few ideas of how to express his gratitude for the present.
She put her arms around the teddy bear, holding it to her ample chest while her eyes gazed off with thought. “Acts of such kindness…done in the baby’s name…” She turned that radiance back to me. “Acts like that cannot help but generate good will from the gods. Thank you, Eugenie.”
A murmur of considering whispers stirred behind us. She and I exchanged a few more remarks, and then I yielded the floor to the next well-wisher.
“Was that okay?” I asked Shaya as we walked away.
“Extremely.” A wry note hung in her voice. “I doubted your gift, but now I think you understand this custom better than we do.” She switched to a lower tone. “Ah, this is Katrice, the Rowan Queen, coming toward us.”
I looked up with interest, having passed through the Rowan Land so many times during my Otherworldly journey. Katrice looked about fifty or so in human years, which meant she could boast a few centuries. Only a little silver laced her thick black hair, and her dark eyes glittered with a keen intellect. A dress of red and white satin covered her stout figure.
“Oh, oh, oh! This is her at last! The Thorn Queen. My dear child, you have been too absent from our gatherings.” She put her arms around me and kissed my cheek. It was a bit more slobbery than Maiwenn’s kiss. A little overwhelmed by her presence, I returned the gesture. She smelled like roses.
“It…it’s nice to meet you.”
“You are so lovely! Look at her, Marlin. Isn’t she lovely?”
She grabbed the arm of a man who looked about twice her age, his wispy gray hair barely covering his head. His eyes indicated he wasn’t really at the party right now.
“What?” he asked.
Katrice raised her voice. “Lovely. Isn’t she LOVELY?”
“Loverly,” he muttered, staring off to my left.
“Duke Marlin, the queen’s consort,” Shaya whispered.
“Look at you, look at you!” Katrice continued, still bubbling over. “How could a little thing like you have killed Aeson? Hmm? Old Tirigan Storm King would be so proud.”
I jerked with surprise, taken aback by the callous reference to both my slaying of Aeson and my father’s name. Not noticing my reaction, she gestured frantically to a young man passing nearby. He had slim good looks and raven-black hair tied back in a ponytail. He too wore red and white, and I remembered once seeing the Rowan Land’s flag, a rowan tree bordered in red and white. Apparently, they were a patriotic group.
“Darling, darling! Come meet the Thorn Queen.” Smiling, he hastened to her side and gave me a courteous nod. “This is my son, Leith. Leith, Queen Eugenie.”
He took my hand and kissed it very properly, as was the custom. “A pleasure, your majesty.”
“Likewise.”
I studied him, curious at seeing a gentry prince. With all the gentry reproductive issues, none of the other monarchs I’d met-aside from Maiwenn-had any children. They tended to be solitary rulers.
He looked so nice and friendly-and like he wasn’t currently make plans to get in my pants-that I wanted to make conversation, but I was never very good at initiating that kind of thing. Katrice took the dilemma out of my hands.
“Isn’t she beautiful, Leith? I was just saying how I can scarce believe she killed old Aeson. Can you believe that? What was it that I heard, my dear? That you drowned him?”
I cleared my throat uncomfortably. “Um, no, not exactly. I sort of summoned all the water out of his body and blew him apart.”
“Oh!” She clapped her hands together as though it were the most wonderful thing she’d ever heard. “Oh! Oh! Isn’t that fascinating? And so clever!”
Apparently noting my discomfort, Leith hastily said, “Mother, I’m sure the Thorn Queen would prefer to discuss more pleasant topics. This is hardly the place to talk about death.”
I flashed him a grateful smile. We did indeed move to more mundane topics, and I found he managed a conversation far more effectively than his mother did. “I saw your expression over the rubies,” he teased. “You don’t think the baby will appreciate those?”
I made a face. “Maybe if they can decorate a crib with them. Or maybe make a mobile. Are those kinds of gifts normal?”
“I’m afraid so,” he said, still smiling. “As I heard you say, there isn’t much this baby won’t get from Maiwenn. Most of these nobles are more interested in making the queen happy, not the baby-hence all the useless gifts.”
“Why, Leith,” scolded his mother. “That’s ridiculous. I’m sure Maiwenn’s child will absolutely love the crystal dinnerware we brought.”
When I finally excused us, Leith kissed my hand again and spoke in a voice too low for Katrice to hear.
“I’m sorry about her. She doesn’t always think before she speaks.”
I laughed. “It’s okay,” I murmured back. “She’s a queen. That’s her job.”
More loudly and properly, he said, “I hope you’ll come visit us. Mother’s been dying to receive you at our court.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “One of these days.” I tried to reciprocate the politeness. “You should come visit us too. I’m not around much, but you’re welcome whenever.”
He brightened, as did Katrice who actually stayed silent for a change. “Thank you, your majesty. I’d love to. I’ve heard amazing things about your land. They say it’s very fierce. Fierce, but beautiful.”
Shaya laughed softly as we departed. “Oh, you don’t know what you’ve done.”
I stared at her. “What do you mean? I think I handled that well, considering that woman’s endless chattering.”
“Don’t let her surface fool you. She’s shrewder than you think. And powerful. Unfortunately, her son is not.”
“Leith? What do you mean? Magically?”
She nodded. “His magic is almost nonexistent. He won’t be able to inherit her kingdom.”
“Whoa…” Considering how long gentry lived, I’d never thought much about inheritance issues. “But he seemed pretty competent. Very intelligent.”
“He is. Extremely so. He’s an inventor of sorts. He’s created things that have revolutionized their kingdom- and the others, slowly. He most recently created tools to print text in books the way your people do. It’ll save a fortune in scribes.”
“Like a printing press? Wow.” Who knew? Leith was like a fairy version of Gutenberg. Cool. Maybe the Otherworld was well on its way to the Industrial Revolution. “And that doesn’t count for anything with ruling?”
“No.” Shaya didn’t sound sympathetic in the least. Magical strength was the greatest measure of a gentry’s worth, which is why my bastard father had been held in such high regard. Those who believed I would match him one day regarded me similarly. “Ingenuity alone is not enough to inherit the throne or bind the land. However, his odds might improve if he had a powerful consort.”
I suddenly tripped on my own feet when I caught her meaning. “What, you mean me?”
“By their estimation, you’re a good match. Powerful, already ruling a kingdom. Your human blood and ability
