“So, I’m told. Lochlan said that very thing when it was created.”
“Good ole Lochlan.”
“I suppose you’ve known him a long time.”
“Dependin’ on your point of view. I’ve known him all my life.”
“In truth then, for you, that’s the entirety of time.”
“Why, Magistrate, you’re a deep thinker.”
I laughed. “I’m not accused of that every day. I assure you. What sort of warmup do you prefer? Coffee? Chocolate? I have several kinds of tea and could manage a hot chicken broth if you’re peckish.”
He shook his head amiably as he removed the scarf and draped it over one of my island barstools. “What will you be havin’?”
I stopped and focused on my visitor. “Tell me the occasion for your visit and I’ll tell you what I’m having.”
He laughed again. “May I sit?” He motioned toward one of the chairs at my round table that was near the fire. I gave permission with a nod and an open palm gesture toward the chair. He sat and said, “Is this a replica of the Arthurian round table?”
He sounded incredulous.
“Yes. The man, or, rather brounie, who works at The Hallows made it for me.”
“I want one just like it. Maybe a wee bit bigger.”
“I’m sure your mum can arrange that.”
“Aye. No doubt.” He sounded wistful. “Came to my attention that there’s concern about me havin’ nabbed the Fengall sprite. I thought I’d forego the diplomacy thing and jump right to frankness between you and me. I’d been intendin’ to come by anyway. To make sure no hard feelin’s had followed that business with the kelpies.”
“Well, since you mention it, I am a little surprised at your overture since our first and only encounter ended with a ruling against you.”
He laughed. “Is that how you see it?”
I blinked. “Um, yes. Isn’t that how everybody sees it?”
He shook his head. “No. No’ at all. Niall does no’ have the sense to know when to wipe his arse or for how long. He should’ve been whipped for that stunt. Next time he will be whether you order it or no’. When Bayune is brought into court ‘tis my responsibility to mount a defense, even if it’s perfunctory, and even if the family member is a ne’er-do-well miscreant such as my little brother. I found your handlin’ of the matter admirable.”
I blinked again. “Um. That’s surprising, but welcome news. I don’t want to be at odds with the House of Bayune needlessly.” I added the last word to make the point that I’m not opposed to being at odds with the House of Bayune if the situation called for it. No number of friendly fireside chats would change that.
“Understood.”
Most of the tension left my body when I realized he’d come to do bridge-building. Personally. It was a promising beginning.
“In that case, I’m having ridiculously naughty coffee. That means real, honest-to gods cream. Not half and half. Not ‘creamer’,” I used air quotes with the most powerful fae in the world. Shamelessly. “I’ll make it Yule-festive with a tiny splash of peppermint. If we’re going to come to a meeting of the minds, we need a celebration drink.”
Diarmuid’s grin either caused a tiny hallucination or a trick of the light. Because for a moment I was sure all my festive, white, Yule decoration bulbs, that were set to steady glow, did a curious twinkle thing to match the flare of light in his blue eyes.
“You think coffee is naughty, Magistrate?” The implication that I had no comprehension of the meaning of ‘naughty’ hung heavily in the air. “No matter. ‘Tis a fine suggestion. The house drink of choice is what I’ll be havin’ as well.”
“Excellent.” As I set about making coffee, I said, “How did you know I’d be here by myself? Or was it an accident?”
“Oh, no. ‘Twas no accident. I had crows watchin’ the house for the right opportunity.”
I stopped and turned. “Crows?”
The idea of being spied on by birds was unsettling. I had windows.
“Aye. Marvelous creatures really. Colorful ye might say.”
“Really.”
I set cream, peppermint, enormous penguin mugs, spoons, napkins, and Olivia’s holiday cookies on the table, left the percolator gurgling happily, and sat down. When I pushed the cookies, or biscuits as they’re called in the Kingdom, closer to Diarmuid, he took one. I’d learned over the past couple months that Olivia’s food was magic because it had the effect of making people feel sated, secure, and happy. I made a mental note to make Olivia’s food an integral part of any important conversation.
“Hmm. These are good!” He didn’t take his eyes away from the plate of cookies. “You made these?”
“No. I have a caretaker who also cooks.” When he looked up with a gleam in his eye, I said, “Do not even think about it. Poaching other people’s domestic help is a good way to start a war.”
I’d intended that as figurative banter but was instantly sorry to have made such an impolitic remark.
I was wondering just how stupid I could be, when he said, “War.” I blinked. “’Tis one of the things I came to discuss.”
The percolator chose that moment to reach its climax, which rivaled a cross between espresso hissing and Desdemona’s death scene in Othello.
“Hold that thought.” I punctuated that with a raised index finger. “And please don’t be bashful about the cookies. There’re more where those came from.”
In less than a minute I was back with the pot pouring coffee that smelled heavenly if I did say so myself.
“You were saying?”
“I understand there was some concern about resolution of this thing with the House of Ulfrwulf.”
“You make saying that sound so easy. I don’t think I’ll ever get the pronunciation right. But yes. There’s been some concern.”
“Well. ‘Tis all patted out and in the past.” He smiled brightly.
“Patted out?”
“Aye. Ye might say a settlement’s been reached. Agreeable to all parties.”
“So your bunch is happy. Queen Ilmr, too?”
“My ‘bunch’ is happy. Aye. No’ sure it can be said that Ilmr’s e’er been happy so that’s a stretch too far. ‘Tis no’ an outright criticism though. I suppose one would have to be on the stern side to keep Northmen in line. They’re almost as unruly as Irish.”
“You won’t be going with the stern style?”
“Well,” he drawled, in a pretending-to-be-humble kind of way, “’tis different for me. Leadership is more easily accepted from males than females.” He shrugged. “‘Tis the way of it.”
I really, really, really wished I could argue with that. “So, the takeaway is that the dispute’s been resolved, large scale conflict averted. That’s very good news and a huge relief.”
“Aye. ‘Tis.”
“Might I ask how you brought about this understanding?”
“I can no’ take all the credit personally. You must understand that the sprite was taken and brought back to Ireland just to make a point. We ne’er intended to keep her. ‘Twas a matter of savin’ face for my mother, ye know. ‘Twas always to be temporary. A harmless statement. Nothin’ more.”