It was as if Mistral read my mind. “If the queen will allow it.”

I blinked up at him as we drew our hands away and let Nicca and Biddy embrace for the first time. They kissed, a melding of body and hands, and they drew back from that first kiss with laughter.

I frowned up at Mistral, the tears still not dry on my cheeks. “The ring is alive again. It’s what she wished. Life is returning to the courts.”

He shook his head, and he looked so sad. “She wants her bloodline to rule the courts more than she wants the courts to thrive. If that were not true she would have made different choices centuries ago.”

Doyle’s deep voice came to me as he walked to us. “Mistral is right.”

I frowned at both of them. “She’ll demand that Nicca stay in my bed, until what, I get pregnant?”

They exchanged glances, then both nodded. Their solemn expressions were too well matched for my comfort. “At the very least,” Mistral said.

I looked at Nicca and Biddy, oblivious to our worries. They touched each other as if they’d never seen a man or woman before, with light wonderment, as if they couldn’t believe that they were allowed to touch this person in just this way.

I sighed, and it was as if wind trailed down the hallway. The magic was still there, still heavy with promise just behind my heartbeat, just underneath my skin. I could feel it. But as strong as it was, it was also fragile. I realized that the ring, like the chalice, had chosen to leave, or chosen to fade. It had decided that we didn’t deserve its magic anymore. If Queen Andais did not allow Biddy and Nicca to be together, the magic was quite capable of leaving again, for good. Of leaving us to die as a people, for the gods only give so many second chances before they search for some other people to bless. We had a second chance and I didn’t want Andais to throw that chance away.

I spoke out loud without meaning to. “If I’d known we’d be this deep in metaphysical wonders, I might not have called in the police.” I shook my head, and tried to think of a way around the queen’s obsession with her bloodline and mine. Nothing came to mind.

“I have an idea,” Rhys said. “I’m not sure you’re going to like it though.”

“Gee, Rhys, with an opening like that, how can I resist? Tell me your idea.”

“If you told the queen you wanted both Nicca and Biddy in your bed at the same time, she might let that go.”

“Yes,” Doyle said, “she might. She has done it often enough herself.” He turned solemn black eyes on me. “It would make her think better of you.”

I frowned. “Better of me, in what way?”

“More like her,” he said. “She searches in you for signs of herself. Signs that you are truly blood of her blood.”

Frost was nodding. “I do not like it, but it would amuse her. It may work.”

“If Biddy agrees,” I said, looking at the happy couple.

“To be together after the ring has bound you,” Mistral said, “you would do anything. Anything to be with your true love.”

The sorrow in his eyes was something visible, tangible. I did not have to ask to know that once the ring had found his true love, and somehow he had lost her.

“Fine then,” I said, “that’s settled.”

Frost touched my shoulder, then dropped his hand as if he wasn’t allowed to. I took his hand in mine, held that gesture against me. It earned me a sad smile. “I know you are not a lover of women. It is good of you to take Biddy into your bed night after night until they are with child.”

I squeezed his hand. “One time together and they will be with child. I am certain of that. Even the queen won’t divide them if they’re pregnant.”

“Andais knows you are not a lover of women,” Doyle said. “She may insist on watching.”

I sighed, then shrugged. “So be it.”

Doyle and Frost both gave me a look. “Meredith,” Frost said, “will you truly be part of her entertainment?”

“I want them together, Frost, and if I have to include myself in it the first time, and let the queen watch, so be it.”

“When will you make your offer to the queen?” Doyle asked.

“After we’ve questioned the witnesses, and gotten the police safely inside the sithen. And only if she objects to them being a couple on their own.” I smoothed my short skirt down. I was going to need underwear. The police tend to discount your authority if you flash them.

“I think most of us need to freshen our clothing,” Doyle said.

I couldn’t help it, I glanced down at his groin. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the sithen.

He gave that masculine chuckle. “Black is a wonderfully concealing color.”

Frost flashed his grey jacket open just enough to show a stain. “Grey is not.”

I looked at them. “Are you saying the magic brought everyone in the hallway?”

“Everyone who was standing here,” Rhys said. “We missed the fun by moments.”

There were other voices up and down the hallway, agreeing or bemoaning the paler colors they had chosen to wear. “We cannot all go freshen our clothes at the same time,” Doyle said. “Some of us must stay here and work. The human police are on their way, and this has taken much of our time.”

I wasn’t wearing a watch; no one was, because watches and clocks ran oddly inside faerie. So oddly that telling time by them was useless. How did anyone know where to be and when? They approximated, and we spent a lot of time being fashionably late.

“Fine, divide everybody into shifts for a change of clothes, and could someone get me fresh underwear?”

Mistral held up my ripped panties. “I don’t suppose these would be very useful. I am sorry that I damaged them.” He held them out to me.

“I’m not sorry,” I said, and pressed his hand back around the satin.

A pleased look filled his eyes, replacing the sorrow. His hands convulsed around the bit of satin. I noticed that he’d found time in all the fuss to tuck himself back inside his pants. “May I keep it as a sign of my lady’s favor?”

I nodded. “You may.”

He raised his hand to his face in an old-fashioned salute, but the look in his eyes made me shiver. He turned with a smile to get his men on their feet and give them their duties.

Frost had turned away. I caught his arm. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m going to go change.” But he wouldn’t look at me. Frost had a tendency to be moody. If I’d had more time I would have asked more questions, but the humans were coming, and we were out of time. I promised myself that if he stayed sulky I’d find out what was wrong. I was hoping it was some momentary mood and nothing more.

Doyle said, “Let him go, he’ll need a little time to adjust.”

I frowned at him. “Adjust to what?”

Doyle gave a smile that was more sad than happy. “Later, if you still need to ask, I will explain, but now we have very little time to question our witnesses. You have called the police into the sithen, Princess, and we must prepare.”

He was right, but I wanted to know what had I missed. It couldn’t be just about sex with Mistral, they’d all seen me have sex with others. But if not that, then what? I shook my head, smoothed my short skirt, and put it from my mind. We had a crime to solve if the Goddess would give us enough free time to do it. I couldn’t seem to control the wild magic that was returning to us, but I could at least pretend to control the murder investigation. Though the tight feeling in my stomach told me I didn’t have much control over either.