Dark Swan Comic 1-4 by Richelle Mead

Once I stopped hyperventilating from all the attention on me, I immediately realized Nia had been right about the dress.

  Like always, the gentry dressed like that they were going to a Renaissance Faire that served ecstasy. Satin, velvet, silk. Even a little leather here and there. Lots of jewelry, lots of skin. The glittering array dazzled the eye, the colors shining, rich, and vivid.

  I wore a sundress meant to have sort of a vintage look. Made of tan gauze scattered with a design of tiny yellow flowers, it had an empire waist and a clingy little skirt that went to my knees. The straps tied behind my neck, and most of my back stayed bare, all the better to show off my tattoos: a woman’s face within a full moon on my neck and a line of violets on my lower back. The dress’s color looked great with the dusky, light auburn of my hair.

  Unfortunately, while the shabby-chic peasant look might be expensive and very much in vogue in the human world, dressing like a peasant in a place resembling the set from an epic medieval movie made you look like, well, a peasant.

  “Oh my God,” I hissed to Shaya as we walked through the room. “I look completely out of place.”

  “Be quiet,” she snapped, in a rare display of the consternation she probably actually always held around me. “You are queen of the Thorn Land. You destroyed one of the shining ones’ most powerful kings. You have the right to wear whatever you want, so act like it.”

  I swallowed my retort and hoped she and her tough love were right. As it was, I had to resist the urge to cling to her hand like a child. That inept social upbringing of mine made navigating this kind of attention painful. Shaya had promised to stay by my side and ensure my etiquette, though that had allayed my fears only marginally. With a great force of will, I tried to follow her advice and look haughty and unconcerned by my appearance.

  “You must go to Maiwenn first,” she murmured, “and then most of them will come to you for introductions. You’ve been a great source of curiosity, and this is your first public appearance since taking the crown.”

  “Got it. Maiwenn first.”

  The Willow Queen appeared to be surrounded by a throng of people. We headed toward them. On the way, I received an assortment of nods, curtsies, and bows. The room held a handful of monarchs, my peers, but every other noble held a rank lower than mine. A few of those we passed offered greeting. I suspected I might have met them at a ball I’d attended last spring. Most simply gave me polite murmurings of “Your majesty.”

  We reached Maiwenn’s circle of admirers. I meant to hover on the edges, but the people parted for us, soon giving Shaya and me a front-row view.

  Maiwenn sat in an ornately carved wooden throne, its whirling designs accented here and there with gold. She herself was golden, with lustrous, tanned skin and long hair that looked like spilled sunshine. A gown of teal velvet—the same color as her eyes—showed her maternal curves to great advantage. Yet, her greatest ornamentation, in my opinion, was the striking figure of Kiyo standing nearby, one hand resting on the back of her chair. He wore gentry clothing tonight, simple black slacks and a long-sleeved white silk tunic that he probably could have worn among humans without question. His eyes, warm and dark, met mine briefly before turning back to the person addressing Maiwenn. Heat flared between him and me in that moment, and electricity coursed through my body as I remembered last night.

  “—best wishes for you and your child, your majesty,” the man was saying. “Truly this is a joyous occasion, and we pray to the gods for good fortune and good health.”

  I pondered his words, recalling Kiyo telling me this was less of a baby shower and more of a luck ceremony. The gentry did not conceive often, nor did they bear children easily. Infant mortality was high. Old superstition held that a party like this, with so many well-wishers, would imbue the child with luck and ensure prosperity.

  The man finished his spiel and gestured to a servant to bring his gift. The servant handed over a small golden chest, about the size of a shoebox, which his master opened with a flourish. A few oohs sounded from those gathered, and I craned my head to see what it held. A glitter of red met my eyes.

  “This is my gift to your son or daughter: the finest rubies from my land, polished and cut to perfection.”

  I blinked and glanced around, wondering if I was the only one who found that gift ridiculous. What the hell was an infant going to do with a crate of rubies? Choke on them? Those things definitely needed a Not For Children Under 3 warning on them. No one else shared my view, and the group seemed to be in agreement on the gift’s value. Kiyo, however, caught my eye, and I saw the faintest of smiles play over his face as he guessed what I was thinking.

  The man left, and all eyes swiveled to me. We hadn’t arrived first, but apparently my rank bought me cutting rights. Following Shaya’s earlier instructions, I stepped forward and kissed Maiwenn’s cheek. She kissed mine in return.

  “Eugenie, I’m so happy to see you again.”

  She looked it, too. I don’t know if it was faked or not, but she was one of those people who could always look happy and make you think she really cared about you. I suspected most of her kindness was sincere, but she had to have the same uneasiness around me as I did with her, given our respective relationships with Kiyo.

  Glancing at his dark looks and her golden ones, I suddenly had a vivid image of them in bed together. I wondered if he’d been as wild with her as with me. I wondered if she’d liked it.

  Pushing that picture out of my head, I attempted a return smile. “Thank you for inviting me. Sorry I’m late.”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “You didn’t have to come at all. I’m just glad you’re here.”

  I didn’t have any elegant speeches, so I kept my words simple. “I’m…very happy for you. I hope things go great with you and the baby.”

  I glanced over at Shaya, who’d been holding my backpack. She handed it to me, and I noticed then that the number of watchers had increased, eyes curious as to what the half-human queen would give. The Kiyo Love Triangle was no secret; gentry gossip spread around the Otherworld faster than any human tabloid could have kept up with.

  Producing a teddy bear, I handed it over to her. She took it, eyes surprised as her hands ran over its smooth, sable-brown fur. I’d paid a lot of money for it. It was some kind of designer brand I’d been told was much coveted among upper-class suburban moms.

  “It’s, um, a toy,” I explained, immediately feeling idiotic. The gentry weren’t technologically advanced, but even they could figure that one out.

  “It’s lovely,” she said, touching the seams. “We can’t match this kind of workmanship. Thank you.”

  “Oh, and well…I honestly didn’t think there was anything else I could give that the baby wouldn’t already have. So, instead, I made a donation in its name to a children’s charity. Or rather, once we know its name, I’ll finalize the donation.”

  Forgetting the teddy bear, she looked up at me, clearly perplexed. “I don’t understand.” Those gathered apparently didn’t either, judging from the curious expressions.

  “I, um, well, gave money to a group that helps sick kids. They’ll use that money to take care of them, and it’ll be…” I grasped for something gentry-friendly. “…it’ll be done in your baby’s honor.”

  A supreme look of delight flooded her gorgeous face, and I knew without a doubt she wasn’t faking it. She understood, and she liked the gift.

  “It’s very generous,” Kiyo explained to her. The smoldering message his eyes gave me indicated he had a few ideas of how to express his gratitude for the present.

  She put her arms around the teddy bear, holding it to her ample chest while her eyes gazed off with thought. “Acts of such kindness…done in the baby’s name…” She turned that radiance back to me. “Acts like that cannot help but generate good will from the gods. Thank you, Eugenie.”

  A murmur of considering whispers stirred behind us. She and I exchanged a few more remarks, and then I yielded the floor to the next well-wisher.

/>   “Was that okay?” I asked Shaya as we walked away.

  “Extremely.” A wry note hung in her voice. “I doubted your gift, but now I think you understand this custom better than we do.” She switched to a lower tone. “Ah, this is Katrice, the Rowan Queen, coming toward us.”

  I looked up with interest, having passed through the Rowan Land so many times during my Otherworldly journey. Katrice looked about fifty or so in human years, which meant she could boast a few centuries. Only a little silver laced her thick black hair, and her dark eyes glittered with a keen intellect. A dress of red and white satin covered her stout figure.

  “Oh, oh, oh! This is her at last! The Thorn Queen. My dear child, you have been too absent from our gatherings.” She put her arms around me and kissed my cheek. It was a bit more slobbery than Maiwenn’s kiss. A little overwhelmed by her presence, I returned the gesture. She smelled like roses.

  “It…it’s nice to meet you.”

  “You are so lovely! Look at her, Marlin. Isn’t she lovely?”

  She grabbed the arm of a man who looked about twice her age, his wispy gray hair barely covering his head. His eyes indicated he wasn’t really at the party right now.

  “What?” he asked.

  Katrice raised her voice. “Lovely. Isn’t she LOVELY?”

  “Loverly,” he muttered, staring off to my left.

  “Duke Marlin, the queen’s consort,” Shaya whispered.

  “Look at you, look at you!” Katrice continued, still bubbling over. “How could a little thing like you have killed Aeson? Hmm? Old Tirigan Storm King would be so proud.”

  I jerked with surprise, taken aback by the callous reference to both my slaying of Aeson and my father’s name. Not noticing my reaction, she gestured frantically to a young man passing nearby. He had slim good looks and raven-black hair tied back in a ponytail. He too wore red and white, and I remembered once seeing the Rowan Land’s flag, a rowan tree bordered in red and white. Apparently, they were a patriotic group.

  “Darling, darling! Come meet the Thorn Queen.” Smiling, he hastened to her side and gave me a courteous nod. “This is my son, Leith. Leith, Queen Eugenie.”

  He took my hand and kissed it very properly, as was the custom. “A pleasure, your majesty.”

  “Likewise.”

  I studied him, curious at seeing a gentry prince. With all the gentry reproductive issues, none of the other monarchs I’d met—aside from Maiwenn—had any children. They tended to be solitary rulers.

  He looked so nice and friendly—and like he wasn’t currently make plans to get in my pants—that I wanted to make conversation, but I was never very good at initiating that kind of thing. Katrice took the dilemma out of my hands.

  “Isn’t she beautiful, Leith? I was just saying how I can scarce believe she killed old Aeson. Can you believe that? What was it that I heard, my dear? That you drowned him?”

  I cleared my throat uncomfortably. “Um, no, not exactly. I sort of summoned all the water out of his body and blew him apart.”

  “Oh!” She clapped her hands together as though it were the most wonderful thing she’d ever heard. “Oh! Oh! Isn’t that fascinating? And so clever!”

  Apparently noting my discomfort, Leith hastily said, “Mother, I’m sure the Thorn Queen would prefer to discuss more pleasant topics. This is hardly the place to talk about death.”

  I flashed him a grateful smile. We did indeed move to more mundane topics, and I found he managed a conversation far more effectively than his mother did. “I saw your expression over the rubies,” he teased. “You don’t think the baby will appreciate those?”

  I made a face. “Maybe if they can decorate a crib with them. Or maybe make a mobile. Are those kinds of gifts normal?”

  “I’m afraid so,” he said, still smiling. “As I heard you say, there isn’t much this baby won’t get from Maiwenn. Most of these nobles are more interested in making the queen happy, not the baby—hence all the useless gifts.”

  “Why, Leith,” scolded his mother. “That’s ridiculous. I’m sure Maiwenn’s child will absolutely love the crystal dinnerware we brought.”

  When I finally excused us, Leith kissed my hand again and spoke in a voice too low for Katrice to hear.

  “I’m sorry about her. She doesn’t always think before she speaks.”

  I laughed. “It’s okay,” I murmured back. “She’s a queen. That’s her job.”

  More loudly and properly, he said, “I hope you’ll come visit us. Mother’s been dying to receive you at our court.”

  “Sure,” I agreed. “One of these days.” I tried to reciprocate the politeness. “You should come visit us too. I’m not around much, but you’re welcome whenever.”

  He brightened, as did Katrice who actually stayed silent for a change. “Thank you, your majesty. I’d love to. I’ve heard amazing things about your land. They say it’s very fierce. Fierce, but beautiful.”

  Shaya laughed softly as we departed. “Oh, you don’t know what you’ve done.”

  I stared at her. “What do you mean? I think I handled that well, considering that woman’s endless chattering.”

  “Don’t let her surface fool you. She’s shrewder than you think. And powerful. Unfortunately, her son is not.”

  “Leith? What do you mean? Magically?”

  She nodded. “His magic is almost nonexistent. He won’t be able to inherit her kingdom.”

  “Whoa…” Considering how long gentry lived, I’d never thought much about inheritance issues. “But he seemed pretty competent. Very intelligent.”

  “He is. Extremely so. He’s an inventor of sorts. He’s created things that have revolutionized their kingdom—and the others, slowly. He most recently created tools to print text in books the way your people do. It’ll save a fortune in scribes.”

  “Like a printing press? Wow.” Who knew? Leith was like a fairy version of Gutenberg. Cool. Maybe the Otherworld was well on its way to the Industrial Revolution. “And that doesn’t count for anything with ruling?”

  “No.” Shaya didn’t sound sympathetic in the least. Magical strength was the greatest measure of a gentry’s worth, which is why my bastard father had been held in such high regard. Those who believed I would match him one day regarded me similarly. “Ingenuity alone is not enough to inherit the throne or bind the land. However, his odds might improve if he had a powerful consort.”

  I suddenly tripped on my own feet when I caught her meaning. “What, you mean me?”

  “By their estimation, you’re a good match. Powerful, already ruling a kingdom. Your human blood and ability to conceive makes you extremely attractive, your role in the prophecy doubly so.”

  “Christ. You people are nuts.”

  She seemed to be enjoying my dismay. “Like I said, Katrice is shrewd. She wasn’t lying when she said she wanted to meet you. She’s probably planned this for a while. You inviting Leith to visit fulfilled her dreams. Just wait, he’ll come soon.”

  “How come you guys have no concept of ‘just friends’ around here? Why is every guy I meet a potential mate? Leith was nice enough and cute, but I mean…come on.”

  I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. The gentry had much looser sexual mores than humans—as a few couples in the room’s corners were currently demonstrating—so they probably treated everything as a possible romantic encounter. Considering the wights’ less-than-romantic bid for my affections earlier, I should have been grateful for Leith’s more civilized courtship. Still, I found it all wearying.

  Shaya introduced me to a number of other nobles that afternoon. Most blurred together. I simply smiled and nodded a lot, fantasizing about being home in bed with Kiyo. Near the end of the party, one new person actually caught my attention.

  The first interesting thing was just how dark his skin was—a rarity in the otherwise Caucasian gentry of this portion of the Otherworld. His black hair hung around his face in a shower of tiny braids, perfectly setting off the burgundy satin
cloak around him. He bowed low over my hand, sweeping his cloak away with a flourish.

  “Your majesty,” he said with a faint French accent. “It is an honor and a privilege. The stories of your beauty do not do you justice. I am Girard de la Colline.”

  I accepted his hand kiss with astonishment. “You must be from very far away.”

  The Otherworld mirrored my own world in geography. The residents here, near Arizona, spoke variations of American English. I wondered idly if those who ruled now had supplanted an American Indian version of the gentry.

  “Such a journey is well worth it to be in your presence, but sometime, if you like, I would be honored to tell you stories of my homeland. Its beauty is enough to make a man weep, though I’m given to understand that the terrible beauty of your own kingdom can make men weep as well—for different reasons.”

  I laughed. “I suppose so. Those who respect it can survive it; those who don’t…well, don’t.”

  “It sounds just like its queen.” He inclined his head. “I also have a small talent with metalwork, if you would ever like anything crafted. I live in the Rowan Land now but would happily take a commission if you require one.”

  I thanked him for the offer and said I’d think about it. When we left him, I turned to Shaya. “I liked him. But let me guess—he wants to woo me and father my child, too?”

  “Oh, he wouldn’t be opposed to it, but that’s not his short-term goal. He really is quite a gifted artisan—he’s even got a little human blood in his ancestry, which lets him somewhat touch iron. But a man like him…well, he’s a courtier. He hangs around nobility and tries to find connections that might help him rule a kingdom of his own one day.”

  “Which, my dear Shaya, is a very kind way of saying he is a schmoozing bottom-feeder who will do anything to further his own political aspirations. I will agree with you on his artistic talents, however. Why, we should have him make our good friend the Thorn Queen here a proper crown and solidify her title.”

  That smooth, laconic voice sliced my heart in two, and I froze. Turning around slowly, I met a pair of long-lashed green eyes flecked with gold and hazel, all framed by a sweep of long, fiery hair that rivaled the trees of autumn in his kingdom.