Love Talker's Daughter

Chapter Eighteen

Morgan wrapped her fingers around the pipe hanging in the folds from her skirt. The silk cord attaching the delicate instrument to the bejeweled belt at her waist brushed against her wrist. In a moment, if Kellen allowed, she would play a melody to charm the Unseelie King.

“What a lovely idea, my sweet,” Kellen crooned. “Please, Morgan, play us a tune befitting a couple in love.”

Morgan bowed. “It would be my pleasure to play a song for Princess Caitlin.”

She lifted the pipe, praying he would think it the one he gave her. Hoping the triumph glittering in his eyes meant he thought she would be condemning all the young fae to pine for her music unto death.

“Wait!”

Queen Morgana’s shout came a moment too late. The first note had already sounded and Morgan would stop for no one now.

Notes trilled forth, a happy melody filled with the promise and hope of love. The sound danced around the room, wrapping around the souls of all gathered in the ballroom, as if it were a living, breathing, entity.

Morgan closed her eyes and let the music flow through her. Please, father, if you can hear me, let this song heal the Unseelie King’s heart. Show him that love cannot be forced, but must be cultivated with care and time.

The final note faded and Morgan opened her eyes. There was a moment of silence, and then the room erupted in a thunderous applause.

“That was beautiful, Morgan. Thank ye for the tune,” Cait squeezed Morgan’s hands.

Kellen looked around the room his smile giving way to a frown. He glared at Morgan, magic flickering in his eyes. Morgan locked her knees, not wanting him to see her nerves.

“Please allow me to examine the pipe, Morgan.”

“Sure.” She lifted the pipe from the folds of her skirt and held it out for his inspection.

Kellen’s hand hovered over the surface of the instrument, his scowl deepening. “This is not the one I gave you.”

“No, it isn’t.” Morgan stroked a finger over the carved wood. “My father gave this one to me.”

“You were supposed to play mine, to put them under my spell!” Bits of stone and dirt clattered to the floor as Kellen’s yell reverberated through the room. “Why are you not under my control?”

Morgan took a deep breath and stood toe-to-toe with Kellen. “Because I believe in the power of love and have not let you taint my mind.”

“But you did. Last night you swore Princess Caitlin would be mine.”

Morgan retreated, shaking her head. “I have no memory of such a thing.”

Kellen pointed at Morgana. “You will give her to me. She will be mine.”

“No.” Morgana’s answer cracked through the air like a whip. “She has not consented.”

“I do not need her consent, just your decree.” Kellen sneered at Cait. “As if she would ever consent to being my wife after years of indoctrination against me.”

“Perhaps I would have,” the princess whispered.

“Cait, no,” Morgana shook her head. “Do not lead him on like this.”

“’Tis not my intention to toy with him, Mother. But the Unseelie King must know that he has always held a bit of intrigue for me. How I’ve always imagined him a lonely man, starved for love. A love that perhaps I could bring him.”

Kellen’s jaw opened and closed before he finally managed a strangled, “You thought that?”

Cait nodded. “At one time, yes. But today I wonder if I misjudged you. Perhaps your heart is too damaged.”

“No, please. I can change, I can be the man you thought me to be.”

“Prove it.” Cait set her hand on his arm. “Let me go. Court me the way a girl should be courted. If, after half a year, ye find that ye do love me, then ask me to be your wife and accept the answer I give with no threat to me or my people.”

Kellen lifted a hand then dropped it to his side, as if uncertain what to do. The action itself at odds with the confident king Morgan had come to know. Was it possible the spell had worked? Had her father’s pipe been blessed with enough love to change the heart of one so dark as the Unlseelie King?

Morgan’s eyes widened as Kellen dropped to his knee before Cait. “Aye. I shall court ye proper. And, on Mid Winter’s Night I shall ask ye to be my wife and, as the dawn breaks and our celebrations come to an end, we shall announce your response to both kingdoms.”

“May it be so,” Cait whispered.

Morgan crossed her fingers, praying the spell she’d cast would continue to take root, and that the Unseelie king would be healed by the power of love.

“Then the oath is given,” Morgana said. “And your previous oath still holds, Kellen.”

“Aye, Morgana. None of my people shall harm Caitlin.”

“Excellent. Now there is just the matter of my son’s bride-to be.” Morgana looked at Colin. “Who is the lucky girl?”

Morgan sucked in a breath and looked at Colin. Why hadn’t he told her he was getting married?