Fey 02 - Changeling (50 page)

They might as well know now.

Stowe walked around Jewel's body.
 
It seemed appropriate to lay her out in the Great Hall, where she and Nicholas had their wedding feast, surrounded by real weapons, swords from the Peasant Uprising and before.
 
She looked like a warrior queen which, in fact, she was.

The guard gave her one final look, then moved in front of Stowe and led him up the stairs to the family quarters.
 
They walked through the gallery and turned to the queen's side of the hall.
 
Stowe shot the guard an uneasy glance which the other man missed.
 
Nicholas was hiding in Jewel's apartments?
 
Already the signs were not good ones.

The guard stopped outside the door near Jewel's suite, and knocked.
 
When the nurse pulled the door open, Stowe understood.
 
The nursery.
 
Nicholas was in the nursery.

A wave of heat floated out the door, and on it, the choking sound of a child crying.
 
The nurse peered at both the guard and at Lord Stowe.

Stowe clicked his heels together, and nodded to her.
 
"Please tell the King that Lord Stowe is here to see him."

"He's na seeing anyone," the nurse said.

"I think it important that I see him."

"Let him in."
 
Nicholas's voice came from the room, sounding strong and sure of itself.

The guard looked in the door.
 
"Do ye wan me ta stay, Sire?"

"No, thank you," Nicholas said.
 
"You may return to your post."

Stowe also thanked the guard, then slipped into the nursery.
 
The room was large.
 
A fire burned high in the hearth.
 
A cradle stood in the center of the room.
 
Sebastian sat on the floor beside it, sobbing as if his tiny heart had already broken.
 
The nurse went to him, picked him up, and cradled him to her chest.
 

"Maaaaaa!" the boy wailed.

Stowe shuddered.
 
He hadn't even known the boy could talk, let alone understand that his mother was dead.

Soft couches and chairs lined the back of the room.
 
A bed with curtains stood in one corner.
 
Rugs covered the area before the fire.
 
Two chairs sat beside the fireplace, and the nurse sat in one, holding Sebastian tightly.
 
He didn't move as he cried.
 
He just clung to her and sobbed.

Nicholas stood beside one of the windows, looking out.
 
He wore his fighting clothes --a dark blouse and black trousers.
 
In one arm, he held the baby.
 

Stowe closed the door behind him.
 
A cat stood up near the hearth, turned around three times, and lay back down.
 
It was a golden tabby, and before it settled, it looked at him with its large black eyes as if measuring him.

The cat sent a shudder through him.
 
He remembered the woman who had come to his estate years ago, claiming a cat had stolen her child.
 
Alexander had banned all cats after that.

Nicholas followed Stowe's gaze.
 
"I'll explain in a moment," he said.

Stowe walked over to Nicholas.
 
The boy looked a hundred years older, his face gaunt.
 
His eyes no longer had a gleam in them.
 
They were dull and dark.
 
A day's growth of beard was on his chin, and his clothes hung around him.

The baby, on the other hand, looked fat and healthy.
 
She had a Fey face — sharp cheekbones, swooping eyebrows and a thin mouth.
 
Her head was covered with dark hair.
 
She had the look of Nicholas in her face, but Stowe couldn't say where.
 
He just felt there was a resemblance.

He reached out, tentatively, and touched her small fist.
 
She opened her eyes.
 
They were a startling blue.
 
Then her fingers wrapped around his.
 
Her grip was amazingly tight.
 

"Blue eyes," he said.

Nicholas nodded.

"I guess I'm used to the Fey," Stowe said.
 
"It surprised me."

A small fond smile crossed Nicholas's face.
 
"She looks like her mother."

"She does," Stowe said.
 
Her skin was darker than his and very soft.

Sebastian's hiccuped sobs eased.
 
Nicholas looked over his shoulder toward his son.
 
The nurse had a hand protectively around the boy's head.
 

"He's been crying off and on since yesterday," Nicholas said.
 

"Tis the most he's done his whole life," the nurse added, speaking softly.
 
"Poor baby."

The cat sat up and yawned, then padded over and wove around Nicholas's legs.
 
It looked up at Stowe and yowled.

"Solanda," Nicholas said in a chastising voice.

"A Fey named cat?" Stowe said.
 
"I thought they'd been banished."

"I changed the decree this morning."
 
Nicholas ran a hand over his daughter's hair.

"You know about the cat that stole children?" Stowe said.
 
"They said it looked like this one."

The cat bumped Nicholas's leg, then sat beside him and purred loudly.

"Jewel explained it to me," Nicholas said.
 
"We're safe from it."

"How do you know?" Stowe asked.

"I just know," Nicholas said.
 

The baby's grip loosened on Stowe's finger.
 
She made smacking sounds with her little toothless mouth.
 
He touched her cheek.
 
It was soft as down.

"She's beautiful," Stowe said.

"Yes."
 
There was pride in Nicholas's voice.
 
"You sound surprised."

Stowe sighed.
 
The moment had come.
 
"Nicholas, you've had a lot of shocks this week.
 
If you would like me to come back, I will."

Nicholas shook his head.
 
"You have news for me.
 
You wouldn't have come straight here if you hadn't."
 
The shadows beneath his eyes were so deep the skin looked folded.
 
A few silver hairs mingled with his blonde bangs.
 
He was only in his twenties, and yet he had lived through more this week than most experienced in a lifetime.

"The news can wait," Stowe said.

"I would rather have everything at once," Nicholas said.
 
"I would rather know what I'm up against."

Stowe couldn't tell if Nicholas had the strength for this or if he were merely pretending.
 
"The guard told me that the Rocaan caused this.
 
Is it true?"

Nicholas nodded and turned his head toward the window.
 
The view from the nursery was of the bridge and the towers of the Tabernacle beyond.
 
"I haven't decided how to handle that yet.
 
I threatened his life yesterday."

"Do you know why he did this?"

Nicholas licked his lips before replying.
 
The baby watched Stowe, her eyes alight with an intelligence he had never seen in a baby this young.
 
"He did it," Nicholas said, "because he believed I was wrong.
 
He believed I should set Jewel aside, deny these children, and start again.
 
He thought Arianna would be — like Sebastian."

Arianna.
 
A Fey name.
 
Stowe said nothing about the name, though.
 
"I seem to remember Sebastian being alert in his first few days."

"Something changed him." Nicholas glanced at the cat.
 
"Some think his Fey grandfather might have hurt him, but Jewel was convinced it happened at the naming ceremony.
 
We'll have no ceremony for Arianna.
 
She has her name already."

A Fey name.
 
They blamed the name for Sebastian's condition.
 
Odd and interesting.
 
"You didn't want to set Jewel aside?"

"She is — was — my wife.
 
Setting her aside never crossed my mind."
 
Nicholas turned back to Stowe.
 
"Even if it had, it would have been wrong.
 
The Fey would have turned on us.
 
The war would have continued, and the deaths —"
 
His voice broke.
 
"I guess that's where we'll be now."

"But I don't understand," Stowe said.
 
"If the Rocaan was that opposed to the marriage, why didn't he stop it before it actually happened?"

"He tried," Nicholas said.
 
"He almost refused to perform it.
 
My father convinced him.
 
I think Sebastian's condition, and my father's death made the Rocaan decide that Jewel had no place here.
 
He thought that the Fey killed my father, but he had no proof."

"He does now," Stowe said.

Wood snapped in the fire.
 
Sebastian took a deep breath.
 
The cat mewled softly.
 
The nurse was watching them all.
 

Nicholas sighed, then leaned his head against the window frame.
 
One more burden.
 
But Nicholas was strong.
 
In some ways, he was stronger than his father.
 
The boy had fought in the war, and then fought to marry the enemy, to form a truce.
 

He had to be strong now.
 
If he wasn't strong, the country would disintegrate, and he knew it.
 
Unlike his father, Nicholas had no one to take his place.

Finally he said,
 
"Jewel was afraid a Fey had killed my father.
 
She told me that it sounded like something a Fey would do.
 
She actually went to the Settlement to see if they knew something about it."
 
He bowed his head and placed his lips against his daughter's ear.
 
"Why isn't she here now?" he murmured.

The cat sighed heavily and fell across his feet.

"It's not the same," Nicholas said.
 
"It'll never be the same."

Then he opened his eyes, kissed his daughter's forehead, and carried her to the cradle.
 
He gently set her inside it, then covered her with a soft white blanket.
 
The cat jumped on the changing table beside the cradle and curled up on a clean cloth diaper.

"What kind of proof do you have?" Nicholas asked.

"A witness.
 
A man who saw a Fey there, a Fey man carrying a bow and arrow."

Nicholas shook his head.
 
"What were they thinking?"

"Apparently someone in the Fey camp was as upset about the way things were going as the Rocaan was."

Nicholas snorted.
 
"Wouldn't that stun Matthias?
 
Show him that he was just like the dreaded Fey."