“We will see you at dinner.” Tierney turned and led her wife back to the throne room.
Brea sighed as she retreated to her room. A warm breeze swept through the open hallway, and parrots chattered in the gardens. The Eldurian palace was so beautiful. She could get used to calling it home—if there was something here to hold onto. More than just pretty rooms, exotic gardens, and strangers for mothers.
But the one thing Brea would never get used to was how boring the life of a noblewoman was. In the human world, she had school to fill her days, therapy appointments, time with Myles, and Netflix. There was always something to do. In the magical realm of the fae, her days were filled with aimless wandering and endless, uncomfortable dinners with her mothers.
If that was the life of a princess, Brea didn’t want any part of it.
“Brea?” Rowena called from her closet. “Is that you?”
“Yes.” Brea sighed, closing the door behind her. She supposed it was too much to ask for an afternoon to herself. Rowena was a kind servant, but she wasn’t Neeve.
“I was just seeing to some new dresses Queen Tierney ordered for you. There’s a lovely new day dress that will match your eyes.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve managed to find me some comfortable pants and shirts?”
“A Lady doesn’t need street clothes.” Rowena harrumphed as she fluffed a pillow to within an inch of its life.
“Good thing I’m not a lady.” Brea collapsed on the couch in her sitting room.
“As long as you live in this palace you will dress and act like a lady.”
“Maybe I should look for my own place.” Brea got a kick out of riling up her maid.
“Lady Brea, your mo—the queen would not allow it.” Rowena’s cheeks flushed pink.
“What do you know?” Brea turned accusing eyes on the maid. No one other than the queens themselves and Lochlan—who might be dead—knew Brea was their true daughter.
“I know that this room is a mess.” Rowena made to dust the spotless dresser.
“Spill it, Ro.” Brea crossed the room.
“I was there.” Rowena refused to meet her eyes.
“Where.”
“The day you were born.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Twas a happy day. For a time. Until the queen asked me to bring you to the Iskalt king.” Rowena’s bottom lip quivered.
“You switched us?” Brea sank down on the nearest chair.
“At the queen’s order. Though I never understood why, I did as she asked. And I loved our dear Alona. Such a sweet child. And a good head on her shoulders, that one.” Rowena polished the brass dresser knobs to a shine. “Always thought she and Lochlan would make a go of it one day. Knew he would raise her up from the serving class to be a proper lady if she couldn’t be our princess.” She dabbed at her eyes.
“And now here you are, come home to us at last. Just as ornery and full of mischief as Alona—in your own way. You could have been sisters, as alike as you are different.”
“You were her lady’s maid?”
“Of course. And I wouldn’t hear of it, letting another care for you.”
“Thank you.” Brea pulled the fussy woman into a hug.
“For what, my Lady?” Rowena returned her hug with gusto, her arms a motherly embrace Brea had never known.
“For caring whether I’m here or not.” Brea rested her head on Rowena’s shoulder for a moment.
“Oh, sweet dearie.” Rowena patted her back. “You listen to Rowena now.” She held Brea at arm’s length. “Your mothers rearranged the heavens to keep you and Alona safe. Give them some time. It can’t be easy to gain one daughter only to lose the other. You’re strangers now, but you won’t always be. One day all four of you will be a family. And a strong one at that.”
“We can hope.” Brea forced a smile for the loyal servant.
“Go rest, my Lady.” She swatted Brea with her dusting rag. “It’s the hottest part of the day. No sense in trying to get anything done till it cools this evening.”
Brea snorted. “Not that I have anything to do but stare at the walls anyway.” She shed her lightweight overgown and retreated to the grotto for an afternoon nap. With nothing else to do, sleep was the only activity she looked forward to these days.
“Up with you, Lady Brea.” Rowena pulled the blankets off the bed. “And don’t give me any of your tantrums either.”
Brea rolled over, clutching her pillow. “I don’t throw tantrums,” she muttered. “I simply protest the morning.”
“The queen is bringing your breakfast herself. I suggest you get up and comb that rat’s nest on your head.” Rowena tossed a fluffed pillow on her head and went to make a ruckus in the closet.
“Which queen?” Brea yawned as she sat on the edge of her bed. What was the point of living in a palace if you couldn’t sleep all day?
“The queen is always Faolan. We call her consort Queen Tierney to avoid confusion.”
“Do I have time for a bath first?” Brea could use a cold shower to wake up, but the fae didn’t believe in things like quick showers. At least not among the nobles. They believed a bath should be an event, something to enjoy—which she was all for, but a hot bath in the morning did nothing to wake Brea up.
“No. Now get dressed. She’ll be here in a moment.” Rowena tossed a blue day dress on her bed. She was a far cry from the triplets at the Gelsi palace. Or even Neeve.
“Yes ma’am.” Brea stifled a smile for the gruff lady’s maid. There wasn’t anything Rowena wouldn’t do for Brea, but at the same time she didn’t treat her like she was made of glass. Of all the fae she’d met, Rowena had quickly become one of her favorites. Neeve was still her number one, though. She’d give anything to have her with her, not as a maid, but as a friend.
Brea dressed quickly and ran a comb through her hair.
“Do you know what she wants with me?” Brea walked into her sitting room, still brushing the tangles from her hair.
“Just a simple breakfast with my daughter.” Faolan smiled from her seat at the small tea table in front of the balcony. “Please join me, darling.”
“Oh.” Brea forgot how to walk. Her mother made her nervous, especially when her other mother wasn’t there as a buffer. She managed to set her comb on the table beside the settee and crossed the room to sit with the queen.
Too many queens in my life.
Brea swept her long hair over her shoulder. “Wait. Do I smell—?”
“I hear you enjoy Eldur Brew in the morning.” Faolan poured a cup of the rich dark brew. “What do the humans call it?”
“Coffee.” Brea inhaled the heavenly aroma. “Oh, this is even better than the kind they serve in the tavern.”
“What was that?” Faolan poured herself a cup.
“Oh nothing. It’s delicious, thank you.”
“I’ll share a secret with you.” Faolan’s eyes crinkled when she smiled—rare as it was. “The only reason I get out of bed most mornings is for a hot cup of Eldur Brew. It’s popular among the commoners for a reason. I’m convinced it’s the secret answer to all the world’s problems.”