Beyond the Pale: A Thin Veil Novella (The Thin Veil Book 3) by Jodi McIsaac Page B

previous day’s lesson. They met at other times for more in-depth lessons, but Cedar had discovered that Nevan was quite politically astute, and she always felt more informed—and better equipped to make decisions—after their walks. It was the ideal way to head into a Council meeting.
    “Tell me about your parents, Nevan,” Cedar said. “You mentioned the other day that they’re Elders. The only Elder I know is Brighid—are they like her? Can you still speak with them even though they’ve gone back to the Four Cities?”
    Nevan laughed, a tinkling sound that always brought a smile to Cedar’s face. “I’m afraid Brighid is quite unique,” she said. “She has the most outrageous qualities of both the Elders and the humans, which distinguishes her from both races. But all the Elders, my parents included, are different from us. They’re a step more…godlike, I suppose. They’re more powerful and dominant than we are. You’d probably consider them melodramatic. They each seem to exist in their own self-contained world, whereas those of us who are their descendants are more interconnected, both with each other and with humanity—or at least we were back when we visited Ériu more.”
    “Wasn’t it hard for you when they left?” Cedar asked. She couldn’t imagine voluntarily leaving Eden behind, knowing she would never see her again.
    “Not really,” Nevan answered with a shrug. “I wasn’t a child anymore, and they weren’t the kind of parents that you’re thinking about. I wonder about them occasionally, but we didn’t have a close relationship like you and Eden do…or even Finn and his parents. As awful as it sounds, it wouldn’t really bother me if I never saw them again. And who knows? Maybe I will. They left us for the Four Cities, but that doesn’t mean they’ll never return.”
    Cedar thought about her own birth parents, Brogan and Kier, and wondered what her childhood would have been like if she’d been born and raised in Tír na nÓg. Would they have loved her like Maeve had loved her? Kier had sacrificed the last bit of her power to give Cedar the gift of humanity in the hopes of shielding her from Lorcan. That had to mean something, she thought.
    They walked in silence for several minutes; Nevan was apparently waiting for another question, but Cedar was distracted, her attention drawn to the beauty that surrounded them. She couldn’t believe how quickly the land had rejuvenated in the past few weeks. The grass beneath her feet was no longer dry and coarse; it was as soft and tender as the flowers that dotted the fields and filled the air with a gentle fragrance. The trees, which had been dead and barren, now hung with heavy blossoms. Some were even beginning to bear fruit. Cedar had been delighted to discover that the queen had her own orchard, a maze of trees and bushes that were now bursting with life.
    In its natural state, Tír na nÓg was always in the height of spring. There was no fall or winter here, at least nothing that lasted more than a day or two. The plants would bloom, bear fruit, and when the fruit had all fallen or been picked, they would bloom again, a never-ending cycle of growth and beauty without the darkness of death and winter. This cycle would repeat until the end of time—or, she supposed, until a new calamity struck Tír na nÓg.
    Cedar was lost in thought when she heard a voice call her name from behind them. The guards stopped first, and then stepped aside when they saw Rohan approaching. “Good morning, Your Majesty,” Rohan said as he dipped his head toward her. “Good morning, Nevan.”
    “Good morning, Rohan,” Cedar replied, with only a slight roll of her eyes this time. Perhaps Riona was right, and she should just get used it. To her surprise, Rohan grinned at her. He’d become much more lighthearted now that they were back in his homeland and he wasn’t responsible for the lives of so many.
    “Your father used to hate it too, you know,” he