Page 11 of Beauty

Gillian takes a deep breath. “I know you’re angry, love, buthold on for a bit longer. Things are happening. I can’t see them clearly yet,but something changed a few months back. I felt it. I still feel it.Something’s coming.”

“That might not be a good thing, Gilly.”

“Please.”

How in all the planes can I deny this woman? I nod, givingher a silent promise to behave. Gillian calls out the window to let the mayorknow we’re coming, and I follow her down the stairs.

Gillian was a princess. She could have gotten out. She morethan likely could have negotiated with Torin for her release. Torin had beenlooking for allies, desperate for them. He would have loved having the Unseelieking in his debt, yet Gillian didn’t abandon me. She sought a way out for usboth, and when that failed, Gillian McIver made a home for us here.

No matter how much I want to take my weapons and practice onthe mayor, I’ll hold my tongue.

The door is opened, and there stands Micha and hisever-present guard.

“Ladies,” he says, bowing slightly.

I can hear him giving the women of the town advice. Evenin a backwater province, courtesy is required. I wonder if he’ll be socourteous when I gut him.

I do what’s expected and curtsy, though not as deeply as hewants.

“May I come in for tea?” Micha asks with the smile of a manwho knows the question is mere formality. “The palace has set forth someexciting new plans. I thought I would talk to my favorite citizens beforethey’re posted in the square for all to see.”

Gillian manages a bright smile. My stomach churns. He actslike it’s exciting news when it more than likely is a new and inventive way tokill those Torin despises. Fae are starving across the plane, but Torin seemsmore interested in coming up with ways to dispose of his enemies.

“Of course, Mayor. Please make yourself welcome.” Gillianinvites him in, her hand sweeping gracefully across the room, as though she’swelcoming him into a palace, not the run-down tower that is their home. “Andyour guards?”

Micha’s nose wrinkles as though it’s too common to evenacknowledge they’re there. “My guards will do their duties. Two will remainoutside and one in the hallway. They have no need for anything so delicate astea.”

The tightness of the guard’s mouth told Bron that perhaps hewas looking forward to some food. Even the guards are on rations, it seems.When he notices me watching, he gives a tight smile and a nod. I think he’sgiving me permission to ignore him.

“I’ll get the tea,” I say as Gillian shows the mayor intowhat passes for the parlor.

I start the tea and gather the bread and cheese. It seems ashame to waste it all on the mayor, who doesn’t look like a man who missed manymeals.

“How is the crop looking this year?” Micha is askingGillian.

“Better than even last year. Danu has blessed us.”

“The king will be happy to hear it. He’s requesting an extratwenty percent this year.”

I nearly drop the teapot. An extra twenty percent after healready takes half? It’s outrageous.

Gillian’s response is measured. “An extra twenty percent,did you say? I fear sending so much to the palace will mean our own people willstarve.”

The mayor laughs. “Don’t you worry your pretty head now.We’ll be fine. The king has declared rations for all citizens. And he’sredefined citizenship. The king and queen will always take care of the sidhe.”

I force myself to pour the hot water into the pot. So he didit. Torin finally declared that only sidhe are true Seelie. Thebrownies and the trolls, the dryads and leprechauns, will be declared Unseelieand therefore undesirable. They will receive no rations. Any land they possesswill be confiscated. They have no protections.

I pass the guard in the hall. He doesn’t see me or he surelywould have tempered his expression. When the mayor mentions getting rid of theriffraff, the guard’s face becomes fierce, a dark, vengeful look passing overhis handsome countenance.

An ally?

I can’t be sure, and I certainly can’t walk up to him andsay, hey, I’m the supposedly dead princess of the Seelie Fae. Wanna start arevolution? Nope. That falls under the heading of “stupid things todo.” But if the mayor’s guard can be swayed to my side, there’s no time like thepresent to begin the process.

I give him what I hope is my kindest smile and pass him asandwich of soft bread and tangy cheese.

The guard’s eyes light, and then he frowns. “Best not,Miss.”

He really is hungry. It no longer matters what damn sidehe’s on. I can’t help but feel for the man. I’ve been hungry. I’ve felt it gnawat my stomach and prayed for anything to end the slow torture of starvation.