“Are you sick? What happened?” Ash took my elbow and gently helped me stand, eyes bright as he stared at me, appraising. “Should I call for a healer?”
“No. I’m fine.” I put a hand on his arm, squeezing once. “It’s nothing. I guess I’ve been working too hard lately. I feel perfectly all right now, promise.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t go to Elysium,” Ash said, sounding unconvinced of my all-rightness. “Have Glitch send Mab and Oberon our apologies. If something is wrong—”
“No.” I faced him, my voice firm. “I’m the Iron Queen, and this is something I cannot miss. It’s not negotiable. I have to go.”
“Meghan…”
“If I don’t show up, it will make this realm look weak, and we can’t afford that. You know what Mab will think, Ash. You, of all people, know what she’s like.”
Ash nodded once. “I know,” he murmured darkly.
“I won’t put my people in danger.” Turning from him, I gazed down the hall, watching the gremlins and the Iron knights and the packrats and everyone. “I can’t fail them, Ash,” I said. “I won’t. I won’t have the other courts thinking the Iron Queen isn’t strong enough to come to Elysium, to protect her own people.”
“No one will ever think that.” Ash stepped up behind me, his strong hands on my shoulders. “But you’re going to Tir Na Nog no matter what I say, aren’t you?” He sounded resigned, and I didn’t have to answer. Sighing, he lowered his head, his lips brushing my ear. “I’ve never been able to stop you, my queen,” he murmured, “but I do want you to know that I might be a little overprotective tonight. These are your people, so that makes them mine as well, but my first and only duty is to you. Always.”
“Majesty!”
Glitch strode toward us before I could answer. Neon lightning snapped in his hair, throwing purple shadows over the walls as he bowed. “The carriages are here,” the First Lieutenant said with a nod to Ash, who inclined his head in return. “We are ready to depart for Tir Na Nog, with your approval.”
“Then let’s go. We shouldn’t keep Mab waiting.” Before either of them could reply, I strode forward with my head up and my back straight as Fix had instructed. The walk of a queen, regal and confident. After a moment, Ash fell into step beside me. I could sense he wanted to say something, argue with me, but he kept silent and didn’t bring it up again during the long, cold ride to Winter.
* * *
To put it mildly, the court of the Winter Queen was not my favorite place in the Nevernever. The last time I’d been to Tir Na Nog, I’d been a prisoner of Queen Mab and the Unseelie Court. My own doing, of course. It was part of a deal I’d made with Ash in exchange for getting my brother home safely. And though I’d do it all again if I had to, it was, as I remembered it, the worst few weeks of my life. Mab despised me, her middle son, Rowan, constantly tormented me and her Unseelie subjects either wanted to kill, freeze, torture or eat me.
Then there was Ash. He had been there as well, but he had turned cold and cruel, abandoning me to the mercy of his brother and queen. Or so I’d thought at the time. The Winter Court is brutal and unmerciful, viewing emotion as a weakness that must be destroyed. Ash had been keeping me safe the only way he knew how: by playing the part of a heartless Winter prince. He’d played it well; he’d hinted to me about how he would have to treat me when we got there, and I’d still believed his act wholeheartedly. I’d thought he had turned on me, used me, and my heart had broken into little pieces. I didn’t realize until later how much Ash had sacrificed to keep me safe.
God, I was so naive, I thought, watching crystalline stalactites roll by the carriage windows. Mab’s palace resided in an enormous icy cavern, the ceiling so high you couldn’t see it through the darkness. I’m lucky I didn’t get eaten the very first day I was there. If I could go back to that moment and talk to myself, I’d probably smack me. Thinking of that shy, uncertain girl now made me sigh. You can’t afford to wear your heart on your sleeve anymore, Meghan. Not in the Winter Court. You’re the Iron Queen now. You have a whole kingdom counting on you to be strong.
The palace came into view through the carriage windows, a pristine, glacial blue castle with ice hanging off every tower, coating every step, as beautiful as it was deadly. Just like its queen.
Who, admittedly, was not terribly pleased with me for marrying her favorite—and now only—son.
I looked at Ash, who was gazing toward the palace, his eyes distant and his face blank. Remembering, just like me. I felt a twinge of sadness, empathy and guilt. This had to be hard for him.
“Hey.” I touched the back of his palm, where a gold band entwined with silver vines and leaves circled his third finger, a twin of my own. He turned almost guiltily, and I smiled at him. “You all right?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “I’m fine. Just…” He nodded out the window, to the frozen spires looming above the rooftops, and shrugged. “Memories.”
“Do you miss it?”
“The court? The squabbles and backstabbing and constantly having to watch what I said or did? Hardly.” He snorted, and I smiled, relieved to hear it.
“But…” He sighed, looking out the window again. “There are some things that I miss. I lived here such a long time, I knew the Winter Court better than almost anyone. I still do. But now…” His brow furrowed. “Now, when I look at Tir Na Nog, all can I see are the missing pieces. The family who’s no longer there. Sage is gone. Rowan is gone.” His eyes clouded over, and I could feel his regret, the gnawing ache of remorse and guilt. “I never thought I would miss them,” Ash mused in a soft voice. “I never thought…I would be the very last of my line.”