Chapter 71
Seventy-one
Edwin
When we’d made the oh-so-easy decision of when the coronation-slash-wedding ceremony should be, we’d overlooked a teensy little law.
Unless death or treason was involved, the previous monarch had to be at the ceremony in order to physically hand the crown over.
Otherwise, it was viewed as a usurpation.
It didn’t matter that Patrick had already signed everything over and the ceremony was just for show.
He had to be there, otherwise we’d be breaking the law and inviting nothing but trouble on our heads later.
Which meant we had to either allow Patrick at the very least to linger for the months it took to put a ceremony together, or I had a week to plan.
Which really meant I had a week.
The fanciness of the ceremony didn’t matter. James and I weren’t set on having a big party anyway. What did matter was getting Patrick and Beatrice out of here before they rethought the whole agreement and tried to cause trouble. Let’s face it, no one believed them to be people of their words.
Well, Patrick had been behaving and quietly packing. Beatrice was the real problem, but if Patrick was allowed to stay longer, she’d use it as an excuse to stay longer, and just no.
Which was why I now sat in a room with three very important people.
Judge Galbraith, because I needed him on hand to know what legally had to be included in the ceremony.
He was the only one who’d been around for the crowning of (now three) kings, so he was vital.
Also with me at the table was Phoebe Kitchingham, Lady of Ceremonies—basically the woman in charge of organizing every single event the palace had, from the garden tea parties to the grand events like weddings.
Lady Phoebe had been in her position for twenty years or more, and I got along well with her.
Fortunately. Otherwise, she might have murdered me for handing her a dual event like this with only a week to plan.
Her grey eyes kept cutting to me, and she also kept smoothing a lock of brown hair from her face as if contemplating murder anyway.
Perhaps I should send her a fabulous gift later to soothe some of her ire.
Also with me was Zona Maitland, Matriarch of Society.
It was and wasn’t a formal position—one of those odd things where society as a whole gravitated to a woman of standing, someone with an irreproachable reputation, who was deemed as the person who knew the most about society and fashion, and who often had a hand in most of the matches of the season.
Marchioness Maitland was a little young for the part, being only forty years old, but she’d held her position now for three seasons and was quite skilled.
It may have had something to do with her stately looks.
She wasn’t a soft beauty, more striking with her high brow and oval face, and her jet-black hair was always in an updo that framed her face.
She inspired trust and confidence just sitting there and was a very approachable person, always ready to listen and lend some advice.
I looked at these three people and felt like as long as they were on my side, this wasn’t an impossible task. Difficult? Yes. Impossible? No.
“Thank you, all three of you, for coming to help me. I am admittedly out of my depth.”
Marchioness Maitland inclined her head toward me before lifting her teacup. “I’m pleased to help in whatever way I can. Before we dive in, I must say, Queen Beatrice has been trying very hard to worm her way into these two celebrations. A last hurrah is how she puts it.”
I grimaced. Of course. I wasn’t even surprised.
“I’ve calmly set her down a few times, but she’s very agitated and insistent. Fair warning. I’ve also been hearing the wildest rumors, so may I have the story of how your ascension came about?”
“You’ll need it just to squash the more outlandish rumors, and I certainly don’t mind,” I said. “Very long story short, James and I have been courting now for months.”
From the way her eyes narrowed, this wasn’t news to her, but she was intrigued to have it confirmed.
“James was very set on not becoming king. He didn’t want the throne and was quite vocal about it.
Unfortunately, as we all know, the ones who want to be on the throne shouldn’t have it, and the others weren’t interested.
So, King Patrick and Queen Beatrice made a pact with James to get him to agree.
They signed over all authority and power to him, agreed to leave within a week and a half’s time, and also agreed to not meddle in their children’s lives after they left the capital.
James got all of this in writing. The second he had all powers transferred to him, he promptly married me. ”
Now, that part did surprise her, and she sat back with a huff. “Then you are, for all intents and purposes, a king yourself.”
“I am. Which is why the crowning ceremony must include me as well.”
Judge Galbraith stirred in his chair and eyed Marchioness Maitland. “My lady, I realize you don’t know Edwin—forgive me, King Edwin—as well as I or Lady Kitchingham do. But marrying him was the smartest move King James could have possibly made.”
“You’re making me blush, sir,” I muttered, hiding behind my teacup.
“Nonsense. You’ve been in this palace for fifteen years.
You are both dependable in your work and know all the players.
If, gods forbid, anything happened to your husband, the country would be in good hands.
” Judge Galbraith gave me an approving nod before turning back to the ladies. “Which was why I married them.”
Marchioness Maitland spluttered, “You married them?”
“Well, who else could do it? I married two kings, after all.”
He rather did have a point. No one else would have the authority to preside over a king’s wedding.
Lady Kitchingham smiled warmly. “In truth, I’m glad. I’ve seen how attached King James is to you, and I think he’d have burned the castle down before doing some political marriage.”
“You’re not wrong. In any case, please be aware I’m very much a part of both ceremonies.”
“Noted. Which, all said, we must finalize the guest list today. That must be sent out immediately,” Marchioness Maitland said firmly.
“I think we can invite only those who can feasibly come on such short notice.” Lady Kitchingham had a massive bag with her, and she fetched a sheet of paper out before handing it to Marchioness Maitland.
“This is my short list, as I call it. The ones listed are those nobles who generally stay in the capital in the summer season and are available for last-minute parties. You’ll see it’s only for a hundred or so people—”
Only. Gods help me.
“—but they are reliable in attendance, as they adore any event. Please do look through it and see if there’s someone you wish to strike from the list or add to it.”
“I certainly shall. May I mark on this sheet?”
“Of course.”
While they conferred on guests, I tacked on, “My own family will also be in attendance.”
Marchioness Maitland waved this off. “Kin are handled differently.”
“Ah. Very good, then.” I focused on Judge Galbraith. “Aside from the formality of the former king handing over the crown to the new king, what else needs to be done?”
“Hmm, there is, of course, the signing. Of not only the rulership but the wedding certificate. To do that, we must settle something. I’ve heard people refer to you as consort, others as king—which are you officially?”
“James and I have agreed to me being king and co-ruler.”
“That’s fine, if that’s what you’re willing to do.”
“Then we will. Lady Kitchingham, I want both ceremonies to be as streamlined as possible.”
She opened her mouth on a hot objection. “This is the crowning of two kings!”
“We have a week,” I reminded her.
Her objection changed into sad whale sounds.
“We can do flowers in key places, and fabric wreaths over the doors and windows, but no wrapping the columns. We just don’t have time for all the fuss.
Get the court mages involved and have them make up for any illumination with some subtle mage lights along the ceiling.
It’ll look pretty and take no time at all on their part. ”
“Fabulous idea.” Lady Kitchingham whipped out a notebook and started scribbling. “Food?"
“A formal dinner for this is a must, but let’s take advantage of the season,” I said.
“Fresh seafood, a light salad, with an array of desserts. Invite the bakeries in the city to donate their own choice desserts up here with little placards to show what desserts are from whom. It’ll take the stress off our bakers and allow the citizens to participate in this event, after a fashion. ”
“Also shows that our citizens approve of your marriage and ascension,” Marchioness Maitland said while inclining her head toward me. “Very shrewd. I suggest handling the alcohol in the same way.”
“Oh, now that I like. We’ll of course provide the bulk from our own cellars but will take any donations as gifts and well wishes.”
“Announce your intention today so people have time,” Lady Kitchingham suggested. “Also…”
We moved on from food to music and other major details. The decorations for the event were set colors, as of course they’d need to be red, white, and gold, so there wasn’t much to decide there either. Still, it was a lot of rapid decision-making in a short amount of time, and I needed a break.
I got up from the table to stretch—I had been sitting too much today in meetings—and wandered over to the buffet near the window. Some hot tea to perk me up and perhaps a scone would be nice. I’d rushed through lunch and felt peckish now.
I stared idly out the window as I made my tea, letting my mind rest from planning details. It started to wander into daydream land before notifying me something outside wasn’t quite right. My mind also insisted Titan was somehow involved?
Now, why would my husband’s beloved horse be in the formal palace gardens visible from this window?