Chastened, she bowed her head. “Grimnaugh, I’m sorry. I thought direct action would be better than this skulking around. I was wrong. Faerie and human worlds work in different ways.”
He glared at her before helping her to her feet. “You are speaking the truth. Keep it in mind, aye?”
As Clíodhna seethed with her foiled attempt at direct action, Grimnaugh led her back to Adhna’s roundhouse. It seemed the protections on his home still kept Bodach from attacking her, but he knew she lived here now. Still, Grimnaugh assured her Bodach couldn’t hurt her as long as she remained in the house, behind Adhna’s wards, or in the Queen’s company.
While Adhna still traveled, she held her own miniature court with the marsh Fae and the wild Fae. Some asked her help or favors, but more often she sang. Some of them also sang songs or related tales of their past endeavors, either real or legendary. Clíodhna looked forward to the times she spent with the lesser Fae. While she spent a great deal of personal energy attending the Queen, her socialization with these Fae renewed her soul and kept her laughing.
Still, she also needed sleep, so had to dispel her miniature court when she began yawning through her songs. They always protested, but she learned to insist.
As time went on, her court increased. Not only the marsh Fae and wild Fae, but some higher ranked lesser Fae might come. Each one asked her for a favor, and she couldn’t bear to turn them away if she could help them. Most had minor enough requests; a funny story or a sweet song. Once she even saw the young Fae, Ammatán. When she noticed him, she beckoned him closer, but he fled. He must be a shy one.
Cerul came a few times, and sat next to her, silent but supportive. She met the mysterious Terbhan, their voice neither high nor low. They had a lovely singing voice, and Clíodhna begged them to sing whenever they attended.
She trudged back with Grimnaugh one day after a long, brutal court. The Queen’s court had been packed with petitioners, and yet she only heard a third of them. Even these, she chose from the list, ignoring others. She’d ignored Cerul once again, as well as Terbhan.
When she returned to Adhna’s home, as much as she wanted to hold her usual court, the visit had drained her of all energy.
Grimnaugh frowned when she asked him to tell the others. “I don’t believe that’s wise, my lady.”
She stared at the Fae. “My lady? When did you start that nonsense?”
He stared at his toes when he answered. “Some time ago, my lady.”
With a sigh, Clíodhna clapped a hand on his shoulder, his skin rough and dry under her hand. “Please don’t. I’m no lady, and I’m certain Queen Áine would be displeased at the presumption.”
He mumbled something and glanced away.
She took both his shoulders and stared at him. “Grimnaugh, this is not a jest. I have no wish to take any of the Queen’s power, nor do I wish her to believe it of me, even in error. She terrifies me.”
“You have power already, my lady. You have the support of many of the lesser Fae. Even a few courtiers espouse you now.”
Her eyes flew open with alarm. “I don’t want courtiers! I don’t want a court. Perhaps it was a bad idea to have anyone visit here to begin with.”
Grimnaugh grumbled again, but wouldn’t speak on it again, no matter how much she badgered him. Frustrated, Clíodhna stomped into the roundhouse and drew her blanket up.
Despite her resolution, sleep did not come for her. She tossed and turned, thinking what might happen if the Queen suspected her of trying to wrest power away. Her own imagination paled beside the Queen’s ability to punish such a bold mortal.
With bleary eyes, she rose again after hours of trying to sleep. Instead, she swam in the pond, hoping to clear her head. What else should she do? She tried to warn the Queen of Bodach’s machinations, and now she might be in peril of being accused of the same. She must alleviate the Queen’s suspicions before they fell on her. Afterward might be far too late.
She really wished Adhna would come back, but he’d been gone much longer than his previous missions. She suspected Bodach had a hand in that, too.
A water Fae swam to her. This one had no voice, so instead of speaking, it paddled around, playing with her black hair as it splayed out on the water’s surface. Her fins tickled, and for a moment, Clíodhna forgot her concerns and played for the pleasure of playing.
Many winters ago, Clíodhna remembered playing. She’d had chores every day on the farm, helping her parents care for animals and clean the house. Despite that, she’d spent many summer hours playing in the water.
They’d lived on the seashore, far in the west. The salty sea would tickle her nose when she dove under the waves. She’d play with the dolphins, riding them out into the ocean, almost out of sight of land, and back in before the storms came. A water nymph might be bold enough to let her approach. When she watched a wind sprite take flight and soar into the sky, she promised herself someday she would fly in the air like a bird. She kept such encounters a secret, though.
Once, she had mentioned the sprites to her father, and received a lecture on fancies and tall tales, a lecture she remembered for many winters.
What would her father think of her now? Playing with Fae within the very land of Faerie, and even attending the Faerie Queen.
