Black Night

We drew to a halt in front of the dais, and the queen rose from her throne to greet us. She did not, however, step down to our level. Point taken. Her eyes were hard and watchful, and I could almost see the calculations moving behind those green orbs. She was taking my measure and, like so many others, finding me to be less than she’d expected. Well, that was fine. When people have low expectations of me, I find that it’s easier to take them by surprise.

“Ambassador Black,” she said, and as she spoke I heard conversations hush all over the room. Nobody was going to miss this one. “You are welcome to my court as a representative of Lucifer.”

I gave a tiny nod of my head. I wasn’t going to bow and scrape. I knew my place in Azazel’s court and she wasn’t ranked that far above me. I also wanted to avoid showing this woman my neck, just on principle.

“Queen Amarantha, I come to you as a representative of Lord Lucifer’s court for the purpose of reestablishing relations between the kingdoms of the fallen and the faerie,” I began, quoting directly from a speech Lucifer (or one of his flunkies) had written out for me. I’d barely had time to look at it over the past couple of days what with all the excitement that had been going on. That morning I’d been frantically trying to memorize it over breakfast. I’d felt like I was cramming for a final.

“Lord Lucifer sends his deepest apologies regarding the unfortunate breach of conduct by the previous ambassador,” I continued.

Amarantha cut in, her voice dripping icicles. “And what of the unfortunate breach of conduct by the current ambassador?”

11

THE PREPARED SPEECH DRIED UP ON MY TONGUE. I sighed quietly. She couldn’t have waited until I was done with the preliminaries before going for the jugular? What about all this formality and courtesy that everyone had told me the faeries loved? Thus far I’d seen little evidence of it.

I decided that my best move was to admit nothing. I hadn’t done anything wrong—not on purpose, anyway.

None of the observers were bothering to disguise their curiosity. You could have heard a pin drop in that room.

“What breach of conduct are you speaking of?” I asked, matching frost with frost. I felt Beezle twitch on my shoulder. It was hard to tell if he approved or not. I didn’t want to look at him and break eye contact with the queen.

Amarantha’s face hardened. “Do not play games with me, foolish girl.”

I stepped forward, away from J.B. and Nathaniel.

“Do not speak to me as though I am a child. I am the daughter of Lord Azazel and the granddaughter of Lord Lucifer. I have come here as ambassador to represent their interest and to negotiate with you in good faith. I did not come here to be insulted or spoken to like a servant.”

Amarantha stood from her throne and came down the steps to face me. Her beautiful face was suffused with anger. “And I did not negotiate for months with Nathaniel ap Zerachiel in order to have my kingdom invaded, my forest burned to a cinder and my darling pets destroyed by an ambassador speaking with a snake’s tongue.”

Have I ever mentioned that I have a bad temper, and that it is quick to burn? I stepped closer to Amarantha, so that we were practically nose to nose. My magic surged up, hot and angry, and it crackled across my fingertips. The sound was like a gunshot in the silence.

I felt the change in atmosphere as Amarantha drew her own power around her. Beezle flew backward off my shoulder, apparently sensing that he might be collateral damage if the hair pulling started. Not that I am a hair puller. If it came down to a fight, Queenie would definitely be feeling my fists.

As soon as I had that thought, I made a conscious effort to dial back my anger. My magic receded, still humming just under the surface but less likely to go off spontaneously. Nobody would be happy if I punched out the faerie queen. I modulated my voice. I would not, however, cede ground, so we remained face-to-face.

“Queen Amarantha, I was under the impression that it is generally considered polite to inquire as to the circumstances before making accusations.”

She still hadn’t drawn down her power. I could feel the electric hum in the air.

“Are you attempting to school me, Ambassador?” she said.

“Only if you need it,” I replied.

She seemed to realize that she, too, was on the edge of some precipice and that she needed to step back. If she grew angry enough to kill me (or to try—I wasn’t about to stand still and let her do it), who knew how Lucifer might respond? He might decide to bring the power of the courts of the fallen on her head. After all, I wasn’t just an ambassador. I was the last direct descendant of Evangeline, the only person Lucifer had ever loved. Surely such an insult could not be allowed to pass.

Maybe that was what Lucifer had intended all along. Maybe he had intended that the negotiations fail. If I was killed, then he could openly make a move for Amarantha’s kingdom. At the very least he’d probably considered it as a potential outcome that benefited him. Lucifer, I was discovering, thought about things differently than everyone else. He comprehended dimensions, options and outcomes I would never have even considered.

Amarantha narrowed her eyes at me. The whole room seemed to take a breath and hold it. Then she did something surprising. She stepped back.

“Perhaps this conversation is best continued in my private receiving room.”

I stepped back, too, about a centimeter. Just to show that I could compromise. “An excellent idea.”

I was keen to get away from the audience. Amarantha would likely be more reasonable away from the staring eyes of her courtiers.