“Then the kidnapper gloated that no one could touch him because of his position and the money and resources his country commands. He bragged that he would never be prosecuted for his crimes. Luna, working with her allies, changed the equation. Prince Abdul’s country can no longer count on billions of dollars or oceans of oil.
“In every case, all that needed to be done was to leave Luna alone.”
“And what would it take to get Luna to leave us alone?” mused the president.
Damn, he was ready to negotiate and I had no idea what a good deal would be. I really needed a master dealmaker like Briar Frostroot here to handle this.
Still, there were some things I could ask for. “As Mike mentioned, we want to be left alone. Something along the lines of a non-aggression pact.”
“If I may?” interjected Lady Birdsong. “I believe the best way to assure that would be to provide diplomatic recognition to Princess Luna and her designates. Just as my grandfather did with Her Majesty’s government.”
“But she’s American,” said the president.
“Call her a dual citizen,” said Manny. He chuckled and added, “Like a part-time princess.”
“A secret treaty with the Dark Fae, like your grandfather’s treaty setting up diplomatic relations with the Light Fae?” mused the president. “It’s not without precedent.”
He turned to me. “Do you have the authority to enter into a treaty with our government?”
Do I? Hell if I know. “I can speak for my husband’s demesne.”
The president frowned and I knew he would reject the deal. One little prince’s domain was not enough to entice him.
“And, of course, those who have vowed obedience to me.”
The president raised an eyebrow, urging me to continue. “That would be my seven sisters-in-law and Princess Perla, my mother-in-law.”
“Princess Perla, the next in line to the throne of Queen Mab?” interjected Lady Birdsong. “She vowed obedience to you?”
“Only after I kicked her ass in combat, the same as I did with her daughters.”
After another hour, we had a framework for a deal we could all live with. Recognition of my status as regent for the cubs, a secret treaty between the areas I controlled and the United States government, and a pledge to not interfere in human affairs unless in an emergency.
By the time the submarine and the carrier had their reactors back online, we broke the meeting up. There were still a million details to work out, but those could be put off as long as we agreed on the major items.
The president signed off and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Lady Birdsong looked at me levelly. “Her Majesty’s government would also be open to a treaty between your country and ours. We can offer enticements that the US government can’t match.”
“We’d be open to the discussion,” I said. “But I don’t know what we can offer that you can’t already obtain through your current treaty with the Light Fae.”
Lady Birdsong turned her hand over languidly. “Well, we have noted a recent downturn in the production of our North Sea wells. It would seem you have access to some techniques that can enhance oil production. Perhaps your experts could take a look?”
“No promises,” I said, “but we would be willing to help in any way we can.”
She smiled brightly. “Splendid!” Then her face darkened as she stared at the amulet on the table. “I know of no device, magical or mundane, that can shut down a nuclear reactor at that distance.”
“A princess needs to keep some secrets,” I said as I picked the piece of junk jewelry up. “But I can assure you that this would never be used against our allies.”
Another bright smile as she came closer, within arm’s length. “If I may?” she asked with her hand raised.
At my nod, she touched my hair and pulled out a strand of seaweed.
“It would appear you were rushed and didn’t have time to rinse out your seaweed conditioner,” she said.
Epilogue
The bar was dark and redolent with the scent of lager, ales, and Guinness, with a hint of fried fish and chips. Just what I expected of a British pub.
The patrons were a mixture of rough military men and the occasional magician. The only women present were staff.
A dive bar. I felt right at home as I glided in behind Mike and Manny in my extra-tight, blood-red, off-the-shoulder, way-above-the-knees dress. Matching red three-inch heels and a tiny bag completed the ensemble.
Heads turned at our—okay, my—entrance. I held back a minute as Mike and Manny approached a slump-shouldered man sitting at a four-top table by himself with his back to the door. He was spinning an empty gin and tonic glass where a lone ice cube was melting away.
“Chief Warrant Officer Cameron?” asked Mike. “Do you mind if we join you?”
An older man at a nearby table snorted derisively.
Cameron quickly said, “I’m not an officer anymore.” He shook his head and added, “But of course, Mike. You and Manny are welcome to join me.”
I slid into the empty seat next to him, took his arm, and squeezed tightly. “How about me, Derrick? Can I join you, too?”
“Princess Luna?” he asked, eyes widening in surprise.
“Oh, Derrick!” I said with a laugh. “I’m just Luna to my good friends.”
Another snort from the adjoining table, followed by a muttered, “That tart is no more a princess than I’m—”
He was shushed by his tablemate, who had seen the five SAS guards who’d followed us in and taken up stations around the room.
That guy was getting on my nerves.
“Princ—” Derrick halted at my glare. “Luna, what are you doing in England?”
“Lady Birdsong asked us to do a survey up in your North Sea oilfields. We finished up yesterday and decided to look up old friends here in London.”
“You came all this way to see me?”
“Well, we had to meet the queen first, of course. Lovely woman; we had quite a nice chat.”
“You met with Her Majesty?”
“Yes. Apparently
