"The king wishes it," she said. And she, like me, moved on from the earlier, more painful questions.

"I will not insult Queen Andais and all my people by snubbing their Yule celebration. If I come home, it will be for their Yule ball. Surely you see that that is the way it has to be."

"I see nothing but that you have not changed. You are still as willful and determined to be difficult as always."

"And you have not changed either, Mother. What did the king offer you to persuade me to come to his ball?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do. It's not enough for you to have the title of princess. You want what goes with the title, power. What did the king offer you?"

"That is between him and me, unless you come to the ball. Come, and I will tell you."

I shook my head. "Poor bait that, Mother, very poor bait."

"What is that supposed to mean?" She was very angry and made no attempt to hide it, which, from a social climber of her stature, was the supreme insult. I wasn't worth hiding her anger from. I was perhaps one of the very few sidhe whom she would have so insulted. Her own sister was someone she tiptoed around.

"It means, dear Mother, that I will not be attending the Seelie Yule ball." I motioned to Doyle, and he cut the transmission abruptly, leaving my mother in midword as she faded.

The mirror rang almost immediately with that bell sound, that clarion of trumpets, but we knew who it was now, and we weren't home to her.