A Tale of Two Kingdoms (17 page)

“This could be a good place to get your thoughts sorted out.
They’ll give you a job and who knows? Maybe a new perspective. So welcome to the EC. That’s what they call it, short for Exile Camp. By the way, don’t mention Telstar. They don’t like to be reminded. I don’t blame them. They left that behind to start a new life.” He turned to face Rosie. “A new world really.”

She looked around again. “
What’s with the motorcycles?”

His expression was definitely sheepish
. “Oh, they, the Telstar, like them. A lot. So they became part of our arrangement. I made an adjustment to the engines so they’ll run on water and threw tools and maintenance stuff in with the deal.”

“
Are you saying that there weren’t motorcycles here before?”

“No. Every dimension develops differently. You know that.”

“Well, yes… So how did you get motorcycles here?”

He laughed. “Rode them.”

“You did not.”

He nodded, grinning. “One at a time.”

“I didn’t know you could ride a motorcycle through the passes.”

“For all I know, I’m the only one who knows it. Let’s keep it that way. Okay?”

She shrugged. “Okay.
What do they look like?”

“Look like?”
Kellareal laughed out loud. “Oh, sweet baby.
”

CHAPTER 8

Song and Duff hopped along the route he had mapped out. They had lots of time to collapse a courtship into a matter of days, alone together in the cab of a private aircraft that would seat four, but felt perfect for two. They told each other their favorite autobiographical stories, their likes and dislikes, their opinions about everything from politics and ecology and economy to kilts and food. Song tried to carefully recall every detail of Glen’s account of the division of the Dana people into elves and fae so that she could repeat it close to verbatim.

They were held over at the Igaluit outpost for an extra day because of bad weather, but they spent the day in bed and were glad of it. Since they had made it to the Northwest Territories and were officially under the protection of the Canadian government, they shed a world of stress and smothered each other in the carefree regard that mates normally share with partners.

They would be surprising the world with their announcement on the fifth day of their elopement. When they arrived in Quebec, a crowd of reporters was waiting along with a full security team to escort them to the Fairmont Le Chateau Frontenac where they would give a joint press conference with the Prime Minister and then spend a day enjoying the oldest city in North America.

Elora had finished her afternoon class and was looking forward to spending the rest of the day with her boys. She turned the key to the apartment and was overwhelmed by the marvelous smell. Ram must have decided to cook something wicked spicy for dinner. The TV on the kitchen bar was turned on, but Ram wasn’t in sight. He must have been watching while he cooked.

She stepped over to the stove and stirred flanked steak pieces with poblano peppers and she wasn’t sure what all else was in there.

Ram came walking out of the bedroom saying something into the phone. He looked up at her with eyes gone dark just as he was saying goodbye and closed the phone. She could tell from a mile away that something was way off.

“What’s wrong, Ram?”

He came around the bar slowly and stood over the stove. “That was Dougherty. Remember him? Orderly from Edinburgh?”

Elora shook her head. “No. Why?”

“Works in the clinic. I got to know him when Helm was born, while you were recoverin’ from hypothermia.”

“Oh. Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Strangest fuckin’ thin’.” Ram gave the colorful concoction a stir, turned the heat down to low, and faced Elora leaning back against a counter. “He says he saw you in Edinburgh last Thursday. Says some fella drove you right up to Charlotte Square. Says you got out, said goodbye, got back in the car and drove it under the Headquarters buildin’ to the garage. Says the ‘gentleman’ walked off t’other way.” Ram’s nostrils flared just a little when he punctuated the word ‘gentleman’ with air quotes.

He paused while he studied Elora’s reaction. “Said this was a nice lookin’, well-dressed, fae fella about your age, sandy hair, couple a inches over six feet. Course I would have liked to tell him he was sorely mistaken, but there’s no one looks like you, to be sure.

“So tell me. This sudden shoppin’ trip to London you were needin’ so badly because of the strain of the baby and the battle and so forth.” He looked around for dramatic effect. “Where are the packages?”

“Ram,” Elora began quietly, cautiously because she could see he was a lit fuse. “You can
no
t be suggesting what I think you’re suggesting. I’m elf. Mated to you and utterly incapable of what I think you’re suggesting.”

“Elf. Well, you’re… what was that? Ninety-six percent? Ninety-eight percent? Maybe the other missin’ percents are doin’ somethin’ besides roundin’ the points of ears.” She winced a little at that. “All I know is that you told me you were shoppin’ in fuckin’ London with my best friend’s wife while you were in fuckin’ fairyland doin’ what?” He paused for a breath thinking he could get control, but failed. His eyes flashed. “WHERE. ARE THE. PACKAGES?”

“Being shipped. You know you can’t lug packages through the passes.”

Ram searched her eyes and grew quiet. “Please tell me that’s no’ all you have to say to me.”

Just as Elora opened her mouth, their attention was jerked away from the conversation by hearing a familiar name on the bar TV that had been left on. Princess Aelsong Hawking.

When Ram turned and saw his sister sitting in between the Prime Minister of Canada and the fae prince, his jaw went slack and the color began to drain from his face. The Prime Minister was speaking.

“Prince Torquil and Princess Hawking are a couple. They formally applied for political asylum and it has been granted. They hope that their families, their governments, and their people will accept them, but if that doesn’t happen, they’re prepared to become Canadian citizens.”

Ram’s knees bent. He sank downward until he was sitting on the floor. “My sister is a traitor.”

“Ram!” Elora gaped at him.

He moved his face toward her, but was looking through eyes that were dazed and unfocused. “My sister is a traitor. My mate is no’ faithful. How can these thin’s be?”

“Rammel. You need to snap out of it. Neither one of those things is true.”

The unfocused look in Ram’s eyes seemed to clear just a little as he repeated, “No’ true.”

As she watched, the haze then dissipated quickly and was replaced with a sharpness that was too sudden for comfort. He pinned Elora with a look.

“No. ‘Tis no’ true, is it? You were no’ with that bugger because you were bein’ unfaithful to me. You were there because you were helpin’ them!”

He exploded to his feet. For a moment Elora thought he might try to throttle her. She’d never seen him so angry. Then she remembered what Song had whispered right before she’d flown away.

Elora reached out to touch him, but he stepped back.

“Ram,” she said softly, “Tell me something. Did you choose me?”

His brows drew together. “What?”

“Did you choose me to be your mate?”

His brows snapped together. “What in Paddy’s name does that…?”

“It has everything to do with this,” she interrupted. “Answer. Did. You. Choose. Me.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared for a few beats with his scowl firmly in place. Finally he said, “No.”

Elora nodded. She said nothing more, but watched the lines smooth away from his brow as the profound truth of that gradually sank in.

“I did no’, but it
feels
like I did.”

“It’s the same for me. I don’t know what love is. I don’t know where it comes from or where it goes. I only know it’s what I feel for you. And if somebody took you away from me, I would die. That’s not drama. It’s not exaggeration. It’s just a fact.” Ram stared. “So do you know what I’m going to say next?”

“Aye. You’re goin’ to say, ‘What if I was fae?’”

“Yeah. What if?’

He slowly closed the three steps between them and pressed her so close she could barely think.

“Nothin’ could stop me. No’ so long as I had breath.”

She put her face in his neck and inhaled the comfort of his scent, musk and wild fern. “Do you know what I’m going to say next?”

“Aye. You’re goin’ to say she’s my sister and I should bloody well be on her side.”

“And what will you say to that?”

He looked down and to the side. “I do no’ think I have any choice but to agree. My wife has an invisible, but permanent grip on my balls.” For that she blew a raspberry into the skin of his neck that she’d been nuzzling a moment before. “So you say, but ‘tis a shit storm the size of Ireland and Scotia combined. And I
am
just one elf. ”

She had to chuckle at that. “Humility’s not a good fit for you, Rammel.”

“No’ tryin’ to be cute. Elves are stubborn. Fae are pissy and unreasonable. Sortin’ this out, well, ‘tis goin’ to take more good intentions.”

“It’s a good thing we have an inside man at the Irish royal house.” She squeezed his buttocks with both hands then looked around. “Where’s Helm?”

Coupling the action with the question, his grin turned lascivious. “Elsbeth’s. Entertainin’ Finn.” That revelation was punctuated with a well-placed tongue at the base of her throat and fingers that worked their way inside the waist band of her pants so that he could give her a return squeeze hand to cheek.

“How about this for a plan? You make sweet love to me to show me how you’re never going to doubt me again because, whatever those mystery percents are doing, they belong to you and only you and you know that all the way down to your beautifully formed toes. Then you can feed me yummy, spicy dinner while I tell you a story about your ancestors.”

He smiled as he continued nuzzling her neck. “You like my toes?”

Elora was thinking about whether or not to answer honestly when Ram’s phone rang. He paid no attention. He was on a mission working a path of alternating nuzzles, kisses and licks. Without thinking about it she glanced down at the bar and saw that it was his mother calling.

“It’s your mother.”

Ram stopped like a freeze frame, but only for a fraction of a second. “Ignore it,” he said in a raspy voice.

She wanted to do exactly that, badly, but she pulled back instead. “Any other time. But I can’t. You can’t.” She picked up the phone and handed it to him.

His shoulders slumped, but he took it looking resigned. “Mum.” Pause. “Mum” Pause. “Mum.” He looked up at Elora with big pleading eyes. “Mum, I can no’ understand with you cryin’ like that.”

After the press conference, the Prime Minister lingered for a private meeting with her country’s two newest celebrity guests to ask about their plans. The woman did not relax just because everyone else had left the room. Aelsong may have found the experience remarkable, possibly harrowing, but the head of the Canadian government took it in stride.

“I am principle holder in a Canadian corporation that owns a lovely property east of Prince George. We plan to live there for now.”

Madame Minister’s facial expression was a pleasant mask that gave away nothing, but she raised a brow slightly at that. “I see. What are your plans for security?”

Duff was clearly not prepared for that question. “We did no’ make plans for security. We wish to live as private individuals, no’ as public or political figures.”