The ghosts whirled overhead like happy clouds, and the silence deepened as if we were all sitting at the bottom of some deep, shining well. The looks on the men's faces ran from surprise to disdain to shock, and some went straight to lust. But in the end almost every male face turned to me.

"She is free to choose any among you." Andais sat down on her throne, spreading her skirts out around her. "In fact, I believe she has already begun the selection." She turned those pale grey eyes to me. "Haven't you, Niece?"

I nodded.

"Then bring them forth, let them sit at your side."

"No," Cel said, "she must have two sidhe witnesses. Sholto is only one."

Doyle spoke, still kneeling. "I am the other."

Cel slowly sat back down on his own throne. Even he would not be so bold as to question Doyle's word. Cel stared at me, and the hate in his eyes was hot enough to burn along my skin.

I turned from his hatred to gaze at the men who were still kneeling at the foot of the dais. I held my hands out to them. Galen, Doyle, and Rhys rose and walked up the steps toward me. Doyle kissed my hand and took up his post beside Frost at my back. Galen and Rhys sat by my legs, the way Keelin sat beside Cel. It was a little subservient for my taste, but I wasn't sure what else to do. Kitto stayed pressed to the floor, motionless.

I turned to my aunt. "Queen Andais, this is Kitto, a goblin. He is part of my bargain with Kurag, Goblin King, to bind an alliance between the goblin kingdom and myself for six months."

Andais's eyes raised upward. "You have been a very busy girl tonight, Meredith."

"I felt the need of powerful allies, my queen," I said. My eyes strayed to Cel even though I tried not to look at him.

"You must tell me later how you managed to get six months out of Kurag, but for now, call your goblin."

"Kitto," I said, holding my hand outward, "rise and come to my hand."

He raised his face without moving his body. The movement looked almost painful in its awkwardness. His eyes flicked to the queen, then back to me. I nodded. "It's all right, Kitto."

He looked back to the queen. She shook her head. "Get up off the ground, boy, so a doctor may attend your mistress's wounds."

Kitto rose to all fours. When no one shouted at him, he came to his knees, then to one knee, then very carefully to his feet. He came up the steps too quickly, almost a run, and sat down at my feet with something like relief on his face.

"Fflur, attend the princess," Andais said.

Fflur came up the steps with two white ladies on either side of her. The one holding the tray of bandages was the more solid of the two. She looked almost alive in a white, transparent sort of way. The other spirit was utterly invisible, holding a small closed box in midair as if aided by brownie magic, but no brownies worked magic here. Nothing that Earthly haunted the Unseelie Court.

Fflur removed my shoe and rotated my foot, which made me scoot around in my chair. I managed not to say "ow, ow, ow," but I wanted to. Thankfully it was just the ankle. Everything else was working.

"You need to remove your stocking so I can bind the ankle," she said.

I started to work the skirt up and fish for the band of my thigh-highs, but Galen put his hands over mine and stopped me. "Allow me," he said. He was not coming to my bed tonight, but the look in his eyes, the hush in his voice, the weight of his hands against mine over my thigh was like a promise for the future.

Rhys laid a hand on my other knee. "Why do you get to remove her stocking?"

Galen looked at him. "Because I thought of it first."

Rhys smiled and shook his head. "Good answer."

Galen smiled back at him. That smile that made his entire face glow as if someone had lit a candle behind his skin. He turned that shining face to me, and the humor in his eyes slid away, changing to something darker and more serious.

He was kneeling in front of me, on the far side of the injured leg, with Rhys next to the other leg. His hands had my hands trapped against my thigh. He raised my hands in his, gently kissing the back of each hand as he laid it on the arm of the throne. He pressed my fingers against the wood, as if telling me silently not to move my hands.

Because of the way my leg was propped on the stool, Galen was kneeling to one side, giving a full view to most of the room. He pushed the long skirt up, baring my leg, and the garter. He slid the garter down my leg and slipped it over his arm. His fingertips touched the hose just above my knee, sliding along the sleek fabric until both his hands pressed against my leg, coming to rest midthigh, like a hot weight against my skin. He met my eyes, and the look on his face made my heart race.

He lowered his eyes to watch his hands slide slowly up my leg. His fingers moved under the edge of my skirt, then his hands slid out of sight, almost to their wrists, as his fingertips found the top of the hose.

His hands seemed larger than they were, pressed under my skirt. When his fingertips moved past the elastic band onto my bare skin, it brought an involuntary jerk.

His eyes went back to my face, as if asking if I wanted him to stop. The answer was both no and yes. The feel of his hands on my body, the knowledge that we didn't have to stop, was intoxicating, exhilarating; if we'd been alone, and he completely healed, I would have thrown caution and all my clothes to the wind. But we were surrounded by nearly a hundred people, and that was a little too much audience for me. I had to close my eyes before I could shake my head no. His fingers moved ever so slightly upward, one fingertip caressing the edge of the hollow in the very upper line of my inner thigh. It brought my breath in a quick shaking sigh.

I opened my eyes and looked at him. This time I had the face to go with the head shake. Not here. Not now.

Galen smiled, but it was a private smile. The kind of smile a man gives you when he's sure of you and knows that only a little privacy stands between him and your body.

He folded his fingers over the edge of the elastic band and started rolling the hose down my leg, carefully, slowly.

A voice came from behind us, "The princess seems to have already made her choice." It was Conri, never one of my favorite people. He stood tall, dark, handsome with eyes like melted tricolored gold. "With all due respect, Your Highness, you give us a promise of flesh, then we are forced to sit and watch while another claims that prize."

"Meredith does seem to have been a busy little bee among all you lovely flowers," Andais said. She laughed, and the sound was derisive, joyous, cruel, and somehow intimate. It made a flush creep up my face as Galen slid the hose down my leg and off my foot.

He moved to one side, letting Fflur kneel over my ankle. He raised the hose to his face, brushing the sheer, black cloth against his mouth, as he stared at Conri.

Conri had never been my friend. He was one of Cel's childhood friends, a loyal supporter of the one true heir.

I watched the rage in his gold eyes, the jealousy, not of me as a person, but me as the only female they had access to. You could feel the tension in the room, growing, swelling, like the pressure before a storm. The white ladies always seemed to respond to great tension or great change in the court. The ghosts whirled around the edges of the room, swinging in a spectral dance above the floor. The more excited the ladies became, the more agitated they were—and the greater the events unfolding. They were like prophets that only predicted seconds ahead.

What can you do with seconds of warning? Sometimes much. Sometimes nothing. The trick was that you had to see the danger coming to stop it. Seconds to see it and stop it, and I was too slow, too late, again.

Conri's voice bellowed out, "I challenge Galen to death."

Galen started to stand and I caught his arm. "What do you hope to gain from his death, Conri?"

"To take his place at your side."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. The look of sullen rage on Conri's face at my laughter was chilling. I pulled Galen back down to kneel at my side. Fflur chose that moment to tighten the bandages, and I had to breathe out before I could speak.

"Is Galen Greenhair a coward then?" Conri scoffed. He had moved from his chair, off the dais, to the floor.

I parted Galen's arm, keeping him with me. "You never did have a sense of humor, Conri," I said.

His eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Ask me why I laughed."

He stared at me for a second or two, then he nodded. "Fine, why did you laugh?"

"Because you and I are not friends. We are very close to enemies. I don't sleep with people I don't like, and I don't like you."

He looked puzzled.

I sighed. "I mean that if you kill Galen, that won't get you a place in my bed. I don't like you, Conri. You don't like me. I won't sleep with you under any circumstance. So sit down, shut up, and let someone talk who has a chance in hell of sharing my bed."

Conri was left standing, open-mouthed, and lost as to what to do. He was one of the most courtwise of all the guards. He sucked up to Cel expertly. He flattered the queen within an inch of propriety. He knew which nobles to treat well and which he could ignore or even treat badly. I'd fallen into the last category, because you couldn't be Cel's friend and be mine. Cel wouldn't allow it. I watched Conri's face as he realized that he hadn't been quite as courtwise as he thought he had. I enjoyed his embarrassment.

But he rallied. "My challenge stands. If I cannot share your bed, then I don't want Galen to have you either."

My hand tightened on Galen's arm. "Why fight if you know you don't get the prize?" I asked.

Conri smiled, and it wasn't pleasant. "Because his death will cause you pain, and that will be almost as sweet as your body next to mine."

Galen rose, sliding away from my grip on his arm. He started down the steps, and I was afraid for him. Conri was a cruel, brown-nosing bastard, but he was also one of the best swordsmen in the court.

I stood, hopping because I couldn't bear weight on my left foot. Rhys caught me or I might have fallen. "I am still the reason for this duel, Conri."

Conri nodded, watching Galen walk toward him. "Indeed, you are, Princess. Know that when I kill him, I did it all for spite of you."