Good, he says. Theyre where I left them.
Where else would they be?
They used to hang on the wall. I shuffled them around so if anyone else knew where they went, theyd lose track. Used to be the one were taking was fourth from the left. Now its second from the right.
I take one last look around, I dont know, maybe looking for tired starlings, but there arent any, and push into the mirror behind him. I get all spongy again and this time its like I pass through a lot of things and just when Im starting to get a little tense about it, wondering if all my parts are definitely going to come back together, I squirt out into Christians back. Ooof! What are you doing, standing there blocking the mirror?
Hush, I thought I heard something.
I perk up my superhearing. I dont hear nothing and I can hear everything.
There are things in here, he says. You never know what you might find.
Bad things?
Depends on your definition. And who you are. Being a prince has its advantages.
I look around. Where are we?
The White Mansion.
Duh, like I might never have figured that out, I say, because were in yet another white room. Is the whole place this boring? Dont the Fae ever use paint, maybe a little wallpaper?
He chimes softly.
Dude, youre ringing like a bell.
He stops abruptly and I realize he was laughing. Im beginning to understand how to interact social-like with an Unseelie prince.
The White Mansion isnt boring, lass. Never boring. Its the grand demesne the Unseelie King built for his concubine. Its a living, breathing love story, testament to the brightest passion that ever burned between our races. You can follow the scenes through if youve time enough and are willing to risk getting lost for a few centuries.
I heard of the White Mansion from eavesdropping but never paid much attention to the talk. I was always more interested in the Sinsar Dubh. What do you mean, you can follow the scenes through?
Their residue is still here. They loved so intensely that moments of their life have been etched into the very fabric of the mansion. Some say the king designed it that way, so if one day he lost her he could come live with her residue. Some say the mansion was built of memory-tissue and is a living creature, with a great brain and heart hidden somewhere in the house. Ive no wish to believe its true because that would mean the White Mansion can be killed, and she must never die. The record of the greatest love in the history of History would be lost, along with countless artifacts from myriad universes that could never be collected together again. This place is home, love story, and museum all in one.
So, wheres the library?
You see, lass, he says tenderly, like I never even just opened my mouth, like Im looking for a lesson in love, and I aint, the Unseelie King fell in love with a mortal woman. She was his reason for being. His every defining moment occurred because of her, and only in her presence did he know peace. She was his brightest shining star. She made him a better man, and to men who know how fundamentally and deeply theyre flawed, such a woman is irresistible. The idea that she would live less than a single century was more than he could bear, so he resolved to make her Fae like himself that they might live forever together. While he worked in his laboratory, trying to perfect the Song of Making, he needed to keep her safe and alive. He knew it might take him eons to learn to wield the power of creation.
If he was human I might call that funny glint in Christians iridescent eyes speculative as it rests on me. I cant look too long trying to decide because one short lock with his gaze and my eyes are already leaking blood. Dudes getting more potent by the minute. And weirder. Like hes thinking him and me are like the Unseelie King and his concubine, some kind of star-crossed lovers. And where did you say the library was?
He built his beloved a playground of infinite proportions, tucked away in a safe pocket of reality where she could stay for all time, unchanging. Unaging. She would be safe. Nothing and no one could ever hurt her. He would never have to worry that he might lose her. His voice sinks to a whisper, as if hes forgotten Im even here. They would be together always. Soul mates. He would never be alone. Never get lost in madness, for she would never fail to find him and bring him back.
Dude, your storys fascinating and all, but wheres the library? Times wasting. We got the Hoar Frost King to stop.
If you stayed here, Dani, my light o love, youd never die. Id never have to worry about anyone hurting you. Ever.
Yeah, and Id, like, be fourteen forever. Id kind of like to grow a few more inches, I say irritably. In more than a few places. He tries to keep me here out of some lunatic thought that Im his queen, well be staining this place with a whole new residue: itll be war in the White Mansion.
Id forgotten that. He sighs. Come, lass. Shall we go find the library?
Dude, thought youd never ask.
We exit the white room on white marble floors and enter a sparkling white hallway with floor-to-ceiling windows that stretch to domed ceilings forty feet high. There I see my first residue. Beyond tall windows is a beautiful woman in a snowy garden, silken folds of a bloodred gown spilling over a white marble bench. Face pressed into her hands, she weeps.
Where else would they be?
They used to hang on the wall. I shuffled them around so if anyone else knew where they went, theyd lose track. Used to be the one were taking was fourth from the left. Now its second from the right.
I take one last look around, I dont know, maybe looking for tired starlings, but there arent any, and push into the mirror behind him. I get all spongy again and this time its like I pass through a lot of things and just when Im starting to get a little tense about it, wondering if all my parts are definitely going to come back together, I squirt out into Christians back. Ooof! What are you doing, standing there blocking the mirror?
Hush, I thought I heard something.
I perk up my superhearing. I dont hear nothing and I can hear everything.
There are things in here, he says. You never know what you might find.
Bad things?
Depends on your definition. And who you are. Being a prince has its advantages.
I look around. Where are we?
The White Mansion.
Duh, like I might never have figured that out, I say, because were in yet another white room. Is the whole place this boring? Dont the Fae ever use paint, maybe a little wallpaper?
He chimes softly.
Dude, youre ringing like a bell.
He stops abruptly and I realize he was laughing. Im beginning to understand how to interact social-like with an Unseelie prince.
The White Mansion isnt boring, lass. Never boring. Its the grand demesne the Unseelie King built for his concubine. Its a living, breathing love story, testament to the brightest passion that ever burned between our races. You can follow the scenes through if youve time enough and are willing to risk getting lost for a few centuries.
I heard of the White Mansion from eavesdropping but never paid much attention to the talk. I was always more interested in the Sinsar Dubh. What do you mean, you can follow the scenes through?
Their residue is still here. They loved so intensely that moments of their life have been etched into the very fabric of the mansion. Some say the king designed it that way, so if one day he lost her he could come live with her residue. Some say the mansion was built of memory-tissue and is a living creature, with a great brain and heart hidden somewhere in the house. Ive no wish to believe its true because that would mean the White Mansion can be killed, and she must never die. The record of the greatest love in the history of History would be lost, along with countless artifacts from myriad universes that could never be collected together again. This place is home, love story, and museum all in one.
So, wheres the library?
You see, lass, he says tenderly, like I never even just opened my mouth, like Im looking for a lesson in love, and I aint, the Unseelie King fell in love with a mortal woman. She was his reason for being. His every defining moment occurred because of her, and only in her presence did he know peace. She was his brightest shining star. She made him a better man, and to men who know how fundamentally and deeply theyre flawed, such a woman is irresistible. The idea that she would live less than a single century was more than he could bear, so he resolved to make her Fae like himself that they might live forever together. While he worked in his laboratory, trying to perfect the Song of Making, he needed to keep her safe and alive. He knew it might take him eons to learn to wield the power of creation.
If he was human I might call that funny glint in Christians iridescent eyes speculative as it rests on me. I cant look too long trying to decide because one short lock with his gaze and my eyes are already leaking blood. Dudes getting more potent by the minute. And weirder. Like hes thinking him and me are like the Unseelie King and his concubine, some kind of star-crossed lovers. And where did you say the library was?
He built his beloved a playground of infinite proportions, tucked away in a safe pocket of reality where she could stay for all time, unchanging. Unaging. She would be safe. Nothing and no one could ever hurt her. He would never have to worry that he might lose her. His voice sinks to a whisper, as if hes forgotten Im even here. They would be together always. Soul mates. He would never be alone. Never get lost in madness, for she would never fail to find him and bring him back.
Dude, your storys fascinating and all, but wheres the library? Times wasting. We got the Hoar Frost King to stop.
If you stayed here, Dani, my light o love, youd never die. Id never have to worry about anyone hurting you. Ever.
Yeah, and Id, like, be fourteen forever. Id kind of like to grow a few more inches, I say irritably. In more than a few places. He tries to keep me here out of some lunatic thought that Im his queen, well be staining this place with a whole new residue: itll be war in the White Mansion.
Id forgotten that. He sighs. Come, lass. Shall we go find the library?
Dude, thought youd never ask.
We exit the white room on white marble floors and enter a sparkling white hallway with floor-to-ceiling windows that stretch to domed ceilings forty feet high. There I see my first residue. Beyond tall windows is a beautiful woman in a snowy garden, silken folds of a bloodred gown spilling over a white marble bench. Face pressed into her hands, she weeps.
