“Good. Now what do we do?”
“I suggest we begin by requesting confirmation,” Lochlan said.
“Via back channel.” I said, matter-of-factly, that sentence being more observation than question.
Lochlan sighed.
Keir stepped in. “She means an inconspicuous inquiry.”
“Oh.” Lochlan nodded. To Maggie, he said, “We’d prefer to keep this between us at present. Can that be managed?”
“What are ye sayin’, ye old fool? Are ye insinuatin’ that I can no’ keep a thing to myself?”
“Nothing of the kind, my dear. It’s merely a formal agreement between the four of us to use utmost discretion and speak to no one else about our concerns. At present.”
She harrumphed. “Very well. Why did ye no’ just say so? I must be off. ‘Twill be a busy night.”
I was sorry to hear that. Death is seldom welcome, but much less so during the season of Yule.
I got up to see her out. “I’m glad you came by, Maggie. Stay warm.”
“Oh, aye. No bother at all. I’m protected from the elements when on my rounds ye know.”
I hadn’t known that, but it made sense.
When she was gone, Keir poured coffee with Baileys for three. As I warmed my fingers on the mug, a question jumped to mind.
“Is Dairmuid married?”
Lochlan barked out a laugh then shared a look with Keir. “No,” he shook his head and buried his face in his coffee mug.
My eyes locked on Keir’s. “What is this about?”
Keir sighed. “If Diarmuid was human and part of the mundie world, he’d be known as a player.”
“One who is highly sought after,” Lochlan added.
Keir agreed with a nod. “If faerie published a gossip rag, his face would be on the cover every month with the title, ‘Most Eligible Bachelor’.”
“I see. Is that because he’s really that desirable or because a lot of ambitious femmes see an opportunity to advance their status?”
“Bit o’ both, I imagine,” Lochlan answered.
“If Maeve hands over the crown, what will her role be?”
“Hard to say,” Keir started.
“Queen Mother,” Lochlan said. Then added, “Creatrix in Chief? A faerie mound isn’t a legitimate state without a creator in residence.”
“How unusual are these creators?”
Keir mulled that over. “A lot of people can create, but only a few can create worlds. Like those reality show singing contests. Like that fellow on the telly said. A lot of people can sing, but only a few can rearrange the molecules in your body so that you have a visceral response.”
I stared at Keir. It shouldn’t continually surprise me how much was going on under that gorgeous tan and mass of blonde hair, and yet it did.
“When Diarmuid decides to marry, will he create a short list among the best, um, singers?”
“Hard to say,” Lochlan jumped in. “We’re in uncharted territory. Like we said, we haven’t had a Di Anu for a very long time.” I knew enough to know that when fae talked in terms of very long time, they meant when dinosaurs roamed the earth. “Who knows? He might even marry for love!”
He and Keir both shared a chuckle over that, like the idea was beyond preposterous.
“If Maeve remains an active part of the royal house,” Lochlan continued, “and is willing to perform creative functions according to Diarmuid’s will, there’ll be no need to fill the position. He can continue… em…”
“Playing,” I offered wryly.
“Yes. Well, I’ll be off.” Lochlan stood. “I’ll grab my coat and thank you for the hearty supper.”
“You’re always welcome.”
He pulled on his coat as he walked toward the front door with me. “The sephalian is a surprisingly good cook.”
I agreed with a smile. “You know, he’s good at everything he does.” I glanced back to see if Keir overheard. It was fun to watch him preen at my praise and I made a mental note to tell him more often how much he was admired. By me. “Let’s choose to not be overly anxious about this news. If Diarmuid is as reasonable as Maggie seems to think, we’ll work it out. But it sounds like everything hinges on him volunteering to agree to abide by court decisions. We don’t really have any teeth, do we?”
“Inside the courtroom? Yes. Outside the courtroom? Sadly, no. Let’s hope he believes it’s in the best interest of all magic kind to maintain our somewhat tenuous hold on order. Because it is.”
“By the way, do we have a designated diplomat?”
“In a manner of speaking. Me.”
“Well, how could we do better than that?”
By the pleased look on Lochlan’s face, I could tell I’d said the right thing.
When I closed the door behind him, I leaned my back against it and said, “Our just-the-two-of-us simple supper evening got hijacked.”
Keir laughed softly. “But it’s not a loss. Let’s leave cleanup for Olivia and snuggle in for some quality shared sack time. Right after I raid the refrigerator. I’m starving.”
“Sack time? Starving?” I giggled. “You’re becoming more American by the day.”
“No name calling.”
“It was generous of you to share your sandwiches.”
“I thought so.” He nodded.
Olivia had made a fabulous turkey, chow mein noodles, mandarin orange casserole a couple of days before and only used half the turkey.
“I think there’s half a turkey in there. Olivia sliced it and left it in the container with the red top.”
“Half a turkey! Perfect!”
Having gotten used to our routine, the dogs padded into the bedroom ahead of us and flopped down by the fire. They were very polite and well-mannered when it came to ignoring lovemaking. And it was a good thing because otherwise I feel sure the sephalian would unceremoniously usher them to the other side of a closed door.
After two orgasms that made me see stars and an afterglow that included a full body lingering tingle, I whispered, “You’re not worried, are you?”
“Not in the least. Nor should you be.”
For the time being there was no better comfort to be had than Keir’s quiet reassurance and I accepted it. Gladly. After all, he was an invaluable resource given his history with magic kind, particularly Irish fae. He had a working knowledge of their cultural perspective that was beyond me and perhaps always would be.
After walking the dogs and giving them a nice, hot bowl of stuff I made especially for them, I set off to the shop in my red Wellies. When worn with cashmere socks from London, they were the perfect footwear for tromping about in snow, if you didn’t have to go too far. I’d given up the magic shawl for winter and made my black, boiled wool coat my uniform. It looked great with my red rubber boots and I had a collection of winter scarves to create different looks.
Thoughts of enjoying winter, winter clothes, and extended morning snuggles with my ever warm sephalian kept my mind occupied all the way to the Hallows. I’d intended to stop by to see the new pieces and lend my opinion for whatever that’s worth. Maggie and Dolan did wonders for my ego by always making me feel like my point of view added something worthwhile.