Full of Briars by Seanan McGuire

One
    September 2nd, 2012
    No, some of it is for my child’s father.
    O, how Full of briars is this working-day world!
    â€”William Shakespeare,
As You Like It
    â€œOkay, it’s official: I am
definitely
going to throw up,” announced Toby. She was pacing back and forth like she thought she could somehow find a way to escape from Arden’s study if she just tried hard enough.
    â€œPlease don’t,” said Tybalt laconically.
    She glared at him and kept pacing, the skirt of her black spider-silk gown flaring every time she turned. The light drew gold-and-silver highlights from the fabric. It wasn’t anything like what she normally wore; it was too elegant, and not bloodstained enough by half. Maybe it was small and petty of me, but I was grateful for that. Toby is awesome and everything, but most of the time she dresses like she’s not sure what clothes
are
, and I wanted her to make a good impression on my parents.
    Oh, sweet Oberon, she was not going to make a good first impression on my parents.
    â€œI’ll throw up if I want to,” she muttered.
    â€œPlease don’t throw up,” I said, doing my best not to whine. “I don’t think Mom likes it when people say hello by puking on her.”
    Tybalt was lounging on the couch, looking like he did this kind of thing all the time. The urge to kick him in the shins just to take the smirk off his face was distressingly strong. I’m mostly okay with the fact that Toby’s dating a smug jerk who thinks the rest of us exist for his amusement—mostly. No matter how much I trust him, he’s always going to be a cat and she’s always going to be able to do better.
    Or maybe that’s just my inner snob talking again. He’s been quieter since I went and got squired to the only person who’s ever been willing to put me in mortal danger for fun, but he’s still
there
. I was born Crown Prince of the Westlands, destined to follow my father onto the throne when he and Mom decide to take their well-deserved retirement. My every wish had been someone’s command and my every whim had been immediately catered to, right up until the day I’d been placed in blind fosterage and sent away.
    I had had the best of everything, just for existing. That was part of why my parents had chosen to send me and my sister away. It was ostensibly for our protection—it’s hard to assassinate an heir you can’t find—but really, it was to make sure we didn’t grow up to be total jerks.
    Fosterage of one sort or another is pretty standard among noble houses. It keeps us all indebted to each other. But Crown Princes and Princesses are usually sent only to other High Courts, and I’d been sent to the middle of nowhere, put into the care of a half-mad Duke who didn’t even seem to care about the status I would eventually convey upon his Court. I was being punished, clearly. I just couldn’t figure out
why
. Worse yet, I’d been separated from Penthea—my sister—and from the nursemaids and courtiers who had been our companions virtually from birth. My parents had never had the bulk of raising me, and then they’d been the ones to decide I needed to go away. It didn’t make
sense
.
    I’d been angry at my parents for a long time. Then I’d been determined to be the best blind foster the world had ever known, following every rule, obeying every protocol, the very model of royal fae youth. Maybe that way, they would send for me. I could go home.
    And then I’d met October, and everything had gone sort of topsy-turvy and weird. She had a way of doing that.
    The doorknob turned. Toby stopped pacing. I straightened, trying to make sure everyone could tell how much I’d grown, both in stature and in bearing. Even Tybalt sat up a little, his attention going to the door. If he had been in cat form, his ears would have pricked up.
    The door swung open. May stepped