Chapter 23
Morning light caught the gemstones already laid out on the dressing table, scattering small points of blue across the walls. Aeryn curled on the window seat, mint tea cupped between her palms, watching Khaeric hold still while Lissa, the elven handmaiden, worked.
Lissa’s fingers worked through his long black hair, weaving intricate braids that incorporated tiny blue gemstones. “Please hold still, my lord. The Council expects you to appear as…” she hesitated, the word hanging between them.
“As what?” Khaeric asked, his voice a low rumble that made the handmaiden’s hands tremble.
“As civilized as possible,” Lissa said.
“My husband is not some wild beast to be tamed for court presentation, Lissa,” Aeryn snapped before taking another sip of her tea.
Lissa flinched, her hands freezing mid-braid. “I meant no disrespect, Princess,” she whispered, eyes dropping.
“Continue,” Aeryn said. “We are going to be late.”
Lissa resumed her task, weaving another strand of Khaeric’s dark hair. “Almost finished, my lord.” She fastened the last gemstone in place and stepped back. “There. It’s done.”
“Thank you, Lissa.” Aeryn rose from the window seat. “You may go.”
The handmaiden bowed and left. Aeryn studied Khaeric’s reflection in the mirror. “You look magnificent.”
Khaeric snorted. “I look like an orc in fancy elven clothing.”
“It suits you.” Aeryn reached up, adjusting the collar where it framed his powerful neck.
He grunted, studying her reflection. She wore a gown of similar hues, the silver-blue of the Silver Bough, with subtle accents of deeper blue that matched the gemstones in his hair.
The fabric draped elegantly over her growing belly.
“Ye look beautiful,” Khaeric said softly. His hand came to rest at the small of her back.
“Thank you.” Aeryn traced the line of his jaw. “Just remember what we discussed. The Council values formality above all else. Address them by their titles, speak only when spoken to, and—”
A soft knock interrupted them. Aeryn called for entry, and Eliara appeared in the doorway. “Princess, the Council envoy has been waiting for fifteen minutes.”
They rushed out of the room. Eliara led them through the winding corridors of the estate. In the entrance hall, a tall elf in formal robes of deep blue waited with two silver-armored guards flanking him. His black hair was pulled back in an elaborate knot.
When his gaze fell upon Khaeric, his expression remained composed, though Aeryn noticed a slight tightening around his eyes. “Princess Aeryn,” the envoy said, bowing. “I am Envoy Thalion. The Council of Memory awaits your presence. And your... husband.”
“Envoy Thalion,” Aeryn inclined her head. “We are honored by the Council’s invitation.”
Khaeric straightened and inclined his head toward the envoy. “Envoy Thalion.”
Thalion’s eyes widened at Khaeric’s formal address. The envoy recovered quickly. “A carriage awaits to transport you to the Hall of Memories. The Council has convened a special session to hear your petition.”
The carriage they provided was larger than the first, with a higher roof and wider benches. Khaeric ducked through the doorway. His form still filled the space, but at least he wouldn’t spend the journey with his head bent at an uncomfortable angle.
Envoy Thalion sat opposite them, his posture rigid.
The carriage departed, wheels clattering against cobblestone.
Through the window, the landscape of Thiarra unfolded.
The route to the Hall of Memories wound through the heart of the city, where white stone buildings rose among ancient trees.
Khaeric shifted beside her, his weight making the bench creak, his gaze drawn to the slender spires that rose above the buildings.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” she asked.
Khaeric grunted, his attention still fixed on the view.
“The architecture of Thiarra dates back thousands of years,” Thalion said, his tone suggesting he was reciting something learned by rote. “Each structure honors the natural flow of light and air. We build with nature, not against it.”
“As do we,” Khaeric replied. “Though our methods differ.”
The envoy’s lips thinned, but he offered no response.
They approached an imposing structure that seemed to grow from the earth itself.
Unlike the other buildings they’d passed, the Hall of Memories was built of darker stone.
Seven slender towers rose from its central dome, each tipped with a crystal that gleamed with inner light.
“We have arrived,” Envoy Thalion announced, smoothing his robes. Silver-armored guards lined the wide stairs to the entrance, their faces impassive. At the sight of Khaeric, hands tightened on weapons.
The large doors swung open as they approached. Inside, the Hall of Memories opened into a vast, circular hall. The ceiling soared overhead, its dome inlaid with glittering mosaics depicting the history of Thiarra.
“The Council chamber lies ahead,” Thalion gestured toward ornate doors. The hall opened before them. Seven high-backed chairs formed a semicircle on a raised dais, each occupied by a robed figure. Every eye turned to them as they entered.
“Princess Aeryn of the Silver Bough and the Unified Crown,” announced Thalion, “and Khaeric, Clanlord of Clan Druin of the Mountain Realm of Beinn Ork.”
The figure in the central chair leaned forward.
Beneath the ornate ceremonial headdress of blue and silver sat her mother’s sister, High Queen Elindra of Thiarra.
“Niece,” Queen Elindra’s voice was melodious yet sharp-edged.
“We welcome you home to Thiarra.” She made no move to stand, her slender fingers resting on the carved arms of her chair.
Her attention shifted to Khaeric with undisguised curiosity. “And we acknowledge your... consort.” The corners of her mouth tightened, the practiced smile failing.
Aeryn lowered herself in a formal court bow, feeling Khaeric move in perfect synchronization beside her. “We thank you for your welcome, Your Majesty.”
As Aeryn straightened, the weight of every stare pressed in. The councilors’ expressions ranged from barely concealed disgust to careful neutrality as they regarded Khaeric.
Queen Elindra lingered on Khaeric for a moment longer before returning to Aeryn. “I understand you have returned to Thiarra for a specific purpose,” she said, “to amend your family registry.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Aeryn replied, keeping her voice steady.
“As is my right by blood and by law.” She reached into the small ceremonial pouch at her waist, drawing out a sealed parchment.
“This is the formal marriage treaty signed by my father, King Henry of the Unified Crown, and High Chieftain Korrath of Beinn Ork.”
Queen Elindra made no move to accept the document herself. Instead, she gestured to an elf standing to her right. “Councilor Thalindor will examine the treaty.”
The councilor approached, his expression carefully neutral as he took the parchment from Aeryn. His fingers barely brushed hers, as if wary of contamination, before unfolding it. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft rustle of parchment.
After what seemed an eternity, Thalindor raised his head.
“The document appears legitimate,” he said.
“The signatures and seals are authentic. However—” he paused, glancing briefly at Khaeric before returning to Queen Elindra “—while we acknowledge this treaty exists, Thiarra was not party to its creation. Our laws do not necessarily recognize unions formed without elven participation or blessing.”
“Curious,” Aeryn said, keeping her voice level despite the heat rising in her chest. “Thiarra was not party to the marriages of my two eldest sisters, Seralyne and Maevira, yet their human husbands were all duly entered into the registry without question, hesitation, or concern regarding bloodline.”
Discomfort stirred through the Council. Coldness settled over Queen Elindra’s features. “Your sisters married noble-born men of human houses recognized by our courts. This is... unprecedented.”
“Unprecedented, perhaps,” Aeryn replied, “but not unlawful. By the statutes of Thiarra, a union ratified under royal seal must be recorded in the lineage rolls. The law makes no distinction regarding the origin of the spouse.”
“What implications concern you most, Your Majesty? That our child might inherit my strength? My honor? My clan’s commitment to protecting what we value?” Khaeric challenged. “Or that they might inherit my mate’s courage to challenge injustice when they see it?”
A brief flash of surprise crossed Queen Elindra’s face before it hardened once more.
When she spoke again, the words came out colder than before.
“The orc speaks for himself, it seems.” Her attention shifted back to Aeryn.
“Surely you understand the... complexity of what you are asking.” Her voice remained smooth, but strain leaked beneath the words.
“The law is quite clear, Your Majesty. It states that all legal unions involving a member of an elven bloodline must be recorded in the ancestral registry. There are no provisions for exceptions based on the spouse’s heritage,” Aeryn said.
Queen Elindra’s fingers tightened on the arms of her chair, the knuckles whitening before she forced them to relax.
“The Council reserves the right to interpret our laws according to the spirit in which they were written.” She flicked a dismissive glance toward Khaeric.
“And I doubt the framers of our statutes ever envisioned... this.”
The slight emphasis on “this” made Khaeric’s jaw clench, his arm stiffening beneath her palm. “I believe,” he said, his deep voice measured and controlled, “that what my mate asks for is fact, not interpretation.”