“So you are Mackenna’s grandchild,” Cadowain said when they settled down. “How delightful. I can see the similarities, yes. Would you care for something to eat? A drink?”

“She would not,” said Troy, speaking over her pangs of hunger. Really, when had it been the last time she had eaten something? How much time had passed—and, more important, how much time did her body believe had passed?

Cadowain made an impatient gesture. “I really wasn’t talking to you, Kelpie,” he said. “Or is it Troy still? Which are you using these days?”

“Troy fits as well as any other,” he said, a muscle in his jaw twitching, belying the fake smile he plastered on. “Just as well as Cadowain does, I imagine.”

“But there are hundreds of the sidhe here. It would hardly be practical to call us all the same. On the other hand, there is only the one of you.”

Troy leaned back, crossed his arms, and let his eyes fall half closed. He must have been very irked to be so obviously uncaring, Lily thought.

“Use whichever name you prefer, Cadowain. We both know you shall do so in the end.”

“So long as it is clear,” he said. And he smiled. And Lily gasped.

Cadowain was gorgeous and stood just far enough beyond perfect to become unsettling. His hair shone like moonlight, his features would have made Michelangelo cry, and his skin was just as flawless, pure and white as marble. His clothing, unlike Troy’s, had very little practicality and much elegance, and every detail, from the cut to the flowing tones of silver and icy blue to the embroidery was calculated to make him look even better. Regal was the word.

However, when he smiled, he transformed. His golden eyes shone with warm light and his statuesque features burst with life. It was contagious, and like the sun peeking from behind the clouds, it made you long to bask in his radiance.

“Well, then. As we were saying, would you care for something to eat?”

She very much cared for something, anything. She was hungry and the foodstuffs displayed on the other tables around them looked absolutely edible. And besides, it was the polite thing to do, accept what your host offers you. But she did remember that accepting food or drink from faeries was one of the last mistakes people ever made.

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” she said, biting her lip as soon as the words were out. Not two sentences into the game and already she was in trouble.

Cadowain’s smile widened and he leaned forward. “How positively delightful,” he said. “But I am at a disadvantage here, because you know my name when I don’t know yours. Tell me, how may I call you? Mackenna’s grandchild is too cumbersome, don’t you agree?”

“You could shorten it to ‘child.’” The memory of her name falling from Troy’s lips, sliding against her skin and sinking its hooks in her soul was too recent and far too terrifying for her to say anything closer to the truth, even though he did know her grandmother’s real name.

He laughed. “Oh, no. That makes me feel too old. It won’t do at all.”

“Call her Doctor, then,” said Troy, sounding bored. Lily could have kissed him.

“Is she?”

Troy shrugged. “Or close enough to make no matter. One way or the other, the name she will allow you to use is not the reason we are here.”

“Hmm. Maybe not your reason. And I have to say, it doesn’t fit at all. Mackenna was Doctor… It feels past strange to address any other woman like that,” Cadowain said with a small smile. “I will just have to call you My Lady, then. It has a nice ring to it.”

“Okay,” said Lily. “That works. But Troy was right bringing up the reasons behind our visit. Perhaps we should focus the conversation?”

“Are you in a hurry, My Lady? I could almost think you aren’t enjoying your stay.”

“You know very well—”

Cadowain lifted a hand. “Kelpie, I did say I would discuss this issue with her, didn’t I? If you can’t keep your mouth shut, I fear I will develop a headache and retire to my chambers for the evening. And it wouldn’t even be an excuse. You have always brought the best migraines out of me.”

Troy laughed, and it was sad. “I do have my talents.”

“And being silent never was one of them,” Cadowain said with a smile. Lily got the distinct impression there was old history between the two of them, and she burned with the need to know what it was.

But first things first.

“My grandma,” she said. “Mackenna. She was… abducted recently and I think you might know something about it.”

Cadowain leaned back in his chair, his golden eyes huge and surprised. “Are you implying I kidnapped her?”

“No.” Lily hid a wince. First, she thanked him and then she offended him. At this rate, she would be lucky if they made it out of the Seelie court alive. “What I meant to say is that we believe—that is to say, I have reason to believe and Troy shares my opinion that the Seelie court might have been involved, and you, as a courtier, could perhaps tell us just how involved it was.”

“Ah.” He leaned forward again, steeping his fingers and tapping his lips. “So you need help.”

“Help” was a watchword with faeries. She had learned that much after dealing with Glaistig and with an angry Troy. She did want help, of course, but it was all in the wording. She thought about it, linking her hands and wringing her fingers until the knuckles went white.

“You did declare your love for Mackenna, didn’t you?” she said after a moment of silence. “I thought you might be grateful for the chance to prove your words.”

“She did choose another man over me. And it was, what… half a century ago?”

“And here I thought declarations of undying love lasted a lifetime and came without conditions.” Her voice didn’t tremble… Well, it barely did. It wasn’t noticeable, at any rate.

A very slow smile spread across Cadowain’s lips and he turned to Troy. “That was your idea, wasn’t it? It stinks of your twisted word games.”

“Do you not think her intelligent enough to know the true meaning of words on her own?”

“I don’t doubt she is intelligent, but someone had to tell her about my proclamations of undying love first.”

Troy shrugged, smirking, and Lily bit the inside of her cheek while she looked from one to the other.

“It is hardly as if I were going to refuse to help you, My Lady, or to help you help Mackenna, as the case may be. There wasn’t any need for that subterfuge,” Cadowain said after holding Troy’s gaze for a second.

“Of course you would have been pleased to help,” Troy said, the smirk still present in his tone. “For a price.”

“Headache, Kelpie,” Cadowain said with an annoyed look. “I believe I feel the oncoming stages.” Then he turned toward Lily and his features softened, true compassion showing through. “However, and while I am pleased to help you and to do so without any attachment or requirement on your part, I fear your trip might have been in vain.”

“What do you mean?”

“My… position at court in the past decades has suffered. It may be the high regard I hold for a mortal such as Mackenna, or it may be that I have grown tired of their petty games, or any number of reasons, but the truth is that our queen doesn’t speak to my ears as often as she did. If she had designs on Mackenna, and I am not denying it, she didn’t see it fit to confide in me. However,” he added, reaching over and curling his fingers over Lily’s tense fists, “that I don’t have an answer doesn’t mean I won’t seek one. I will make use of whatever assets are left to me to find out the truth, and I will rely to you all pertinent information.”

Lily studied his golden eyes and nodded. Faeries couldn’t lie and his promise was honest and accurate enough.

“I understand,” she said. “When will this be?”

“I will begin tomorrow.” He looked around. “With the revelry tonight, any inquiry would be a waste of time and a way of calling unwanted attention to ourselves. For now we must seem innocent.”

“Aren’t we?”

Cadowain grinned. “Well, yes. But to us, anyone who doesn’t enjoy a party is suspicious regardless of their true intentions.” He stood and came around the table, offering her his hand. “Would you do me the honor?”