Free Midnight Never Come by Marie Brennan

to favor.
    Lune spread her skirts, and gave him no more humble a curtsy than she had before. Humility would be more suspicious to him than pride. “I am most grateful for the chance to be of service to her Majesty.”
    “Of course.” Vidar eyed her with satisfaction. “Would it please you to be seated, Lady Lune? I have prepared a description of the role you are to take —”
    “Lord Ifarren.” She took pleasure in interrupting him. “My task is to be as you said? To gather information, and gain access to Sir Francis Walsingham?”
    “And leverage, of whatever sort may offer itself.”
    Nothing would
offer
itself, but she might create something. But that was neither here nor there. “Then I will create my own role, as her Majesty trusted me to do in the past.”
    Displeasure marred the line of his mouth. “Her Majesty likewise trusted you to bargain sharply against the sea people.”
    Lune damned the day she had ever been sent beneath the waves. Vidar had not been there, with the task of convincing the inhabitants of an alien land that the doings of mortal nations were their concern. Fae they might be, but unlike their landbound brethren, the mermaids and roanes and other denizens of the sea had not adopted current customs of courtly rule. And their idea of interaction with humans involved shipwrecks and the occasional lover, not politics. She had been lucky to find
anything
they wanted.
    But to say so would sound peevish and weak. Instead she said, “You disdain mortal life, Lord Ifarren. Would you ride a horse raised by one who detested animals?”
    “I know Walsingham,” Vidar said.
    “And I will most humbly hear your advice where he is concerned. But you asked for me because there is none in the Onyx Court more talented at this art than I. When I approach the mortal court, I will do so on my own terms.”
    The challenge hung in the air between them. Then Vidar waved one hand, as if it did not matter. “So be it. I will inform you of the court’s movements. And
you
will inform
me
of your chosen role, before you go to join them.”
    “I will need some bread before then.”
    “Why?”
    Now he was the one sounding peevish. Lune said calmly, “To familiarize myself with the situation, my lord. I have not been among that court in many years.”
    “Oh, very well. Now get out of my sight; I have other things to attend to.”
    Lune made her curtsy and withdrew. If Vidar had meant to position her where she would fail, she had at least escaped one trap. And with the allotment she would be given, she could afford to trade her own bread to other fae for information.
    Once upon a time, she had clawed her way up from insignificance to favored status, by shrewd trading and well-timed service. If she had done it once, she could — and would — do so again.
    H AMPTON C OURT P ALACE , R ICHMOND :
October 14, 1588
    Deven rode into the spacious Base Court of the palace and dismounted almost before his bay gelding came to a halt. The October air had picked up a distinct chill since sunset, nipping at his cheeks, and his fingers were cold inside his gloves. There was a storm building, following in the aftermath of the day’s gentle autumn warmth. He tossed his reins to a servant and, chafing his hands together, headed for the archway that led deeper into the palace.
    Stairs on his left inside the arch led upward to the old-style Great Hall. No longer the central gathering place of the monarch and nobles, at Hampton Court the archaic space was more given over to servants of the household, except on occasions that called for great pageantry. Deven passed through without pausing and headed for the chambers beyond, where he could find someone that might know the answer to his question.
    The Queen was not using that set of rooms as her personal quarters, having removed to a different part of the sprawling palace, but despite the late hour, a number of minor courtiers were still congregated in what was sometimes used as the