inside, still wearing her rainbow taffeta gown and black velvet choker. She blinked at the three of us while we looked at her like she was the last thing weâd expected. Then she burst out laughing and waved her hands in the air like a horror movie ghost.
âBoo!â she crowed, and laughed some more, stepping fully into the room. She let the door swing shut behind her. âMan, you guys should see your faces. I wish I had a camera right now.â
âNo cameras,â I said hurriedly. âMy parents arenât human celebrities. And they canât be photographed with me.â Anyone with time to kill would be able to compare my face to theirs and see too many similarities to explain by us all being Daoine Sidhe.
May rolled her eyes. âUh, duh, I
know
, Quentin, okay? Not my first rodeo. Not even my first time meeting the High Monarchs. I almost was a High Queen once, only my brother needed the first bite more than I did, so he wound up with her face and memories for six hundred years.â
âRight,â I said, trying to cover my awkwardness. May had been created as Tobyâs Fetch, combining Tobyâs memories with the memories of a changeling girl named Dare . . . and with the memories of the night-haunt that May had originally been. She looked half-human, with rounder ears and softer features than even October had, but she was pure fae, and she was older than any of us knew for sure. âUh, just. Okay. Do you know whatâs holding them up?â
âThe usual. Ardenâs showing off the knowe while her staffers try to impress the High Monarchs and itâs all blah politics and etiquette out there, which is why I had to escape.â May walked over and flopped down on the couch next to Tybalt. He turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow. She beamed at him. âHello, kitty. Anyway, everyone knows theyâre going to finish by giving some kind of official thanks to Toby for finding the missing princess. Probably not with actual âthank youâs involved. That would just be weird.â
âYes,â said Toby firmly. âThat would be very weird, and we do not want that. The
last
thing I need right now is for the High King and Queen of the Westlands to feel like theyâre indebted to me for something.â
âThatâs a pity,â said my father, from the other side of the room. âHere we were planning to buy you a nice dinette set.â
âDad!â I turned and started toward him while everyone else was still staring at the trio whoâd appeared through one of Ardenâs portals on the far side of the study. Mom and Dad were standing in front of the new Queen in the Mists, both still wearing their Court garb, down to the heavy, overly ornate circlets that they always used to complain about when they stopped to check on my sister and me after taking audiences. Arden looked uncomfortable. My parents looked exhausted. That was familiar, too. They always looked tired after theyâd been doing their jobs.
Theyâd been working since theyâd left Toronto. The trip would have required multiple portals opened by their Tuatha de Dannan escorts, which meant passing through multiple regional Courts. Even if they werenât stopping to hold audience in each of them, it still meant at least six pauses to show their appreciation for the nobles whoâd agreed to host the processional. And that was the short route, which meant it was also the more dangerous one. Theyâd probably made nine or more jumps on the way here. Theyâd been working for
hours
. The last thing they were going to want was an overly enthusiastic teenage boy jumping all over them.
I stopped before the point of impact, pulling myself back and trying to salvage a sense of respectability from the situation. It didnât help that I was still getting used to my height after my latest growth spurt. My limbs felt like they were twice as long as