Is she crying for us?

“Probably not.” Croi feels awkward at the thought.

She shrugs at the pixie.

“I will ask my father to see if your magick is similar to any Tine kin he knows. Kin can identify their family by the similarity in their magicks,” Ceara says.

Ask her why her magick is so similar to that fierce Lorcan’s.

“No!” Croi sends a mental glare to her other self.

“Isn’t there any way to alleviate the pain?” Tinder asks worriedly.

“Did you finish eating?” Croi pointedly changes the subject. “Can I eat all this?”

“No! I’m still hungry!” Tinder immediately grabs a little fork provided for her and a piece of meat almost as big as she is and commences eating. Ceara does not partake of the meal. Instead, she cradles a glass filled with red liquid that smells like flowers and spice and sips.

They eat for a while, all of them sunk in their own thoughts.

“How come you didn’t bow to the Tine King?” Tinder asks after swallowing a morsel. “Didn’t you feel compelled to?”

“No?” Croi takes a bite of a pastry and finds raisins inside. She makes a face but continues chewing. “Why?”

Ceara and Tinder are staring at her with that dumbfounded look again. “What?” Croi puts the pastry down, feeling nervous.

Did our face change again?

“You seriously didn’t feel compelled to bow to my father?” Ceara asks, a shrill tone in her voice.

Croi winces. “No. Why? Is bowing that important?”

Tinder swallows. “No one can meet a fae monarch’s eyes without bowing first,” she explains. “Unless they are another monarch.”

“Do I look like a monarch?” Croi asks with some interest.

Neither the fae nor the pixie deign to answer the question.

“Your brownie mother… Has she been with you all along?” Croi asks after an awkward pause. “What is a brownie mother anyway?”

Ceara shakes her glass, watching the liquid catch the light and taking that moment to gather her thoughts. “Before the Great Betrayal, brownie mothers were a common practice among the Talamh royals. Every child born to a Talamh royal had a brownie mother; they imprint upon the child at birth and remain completely loyal to them for the entirety of their lives. Monca was actually my mother’s brownie mother originally.” She sees Croi’s questioning face and elaborates. “Mabh, the Earth Princess and the previous consort of the Tine King.”

“Monca was the one who brought you to the Tine King?” Croi tries to piece the princess’s history together.

How many times do you need to ask that question? Is the brownie that important?

“Don’t you think it is about time we wondered why the fae with the damaged magick was trying to summon us to her side? What does she want from us? The brownie might have answers,” Croi points out to her other self.

Why would she have the answers?

“She was the last person who saw Mabh,” Croi thinks to her other self.