Hosting the King
The minstrels finish their tune to thunderous applause. I glance over at Katria to see how the song was received before I clap. She was the subject of this glorious ballad after all, and if it didn’t please her, then it certainly won’t please me.
Her lips are pursed slightly in a forced smile, as if to draw a line across her face to prevent the scarlet flush that threatens to rise from her neck to her cheeks.
She’s not upset, merely uncomfortable, and I must be truly wicked for finding it rather adorable.
Then again, I delight in all her movements and motions in any setting.
I’ve studied them with the same determination—no, more, if I’m being honest—that I studied to become king of the fae back when I thought it was my birthright.
I clap and rise to my feet as the lead performer bows. The markings on his brow shine faintly in the torchlight. Our Fae Queen finally rises as well, joining the rest of us in cheering.
“What a ballad,” I say, mostly to myself.
We all sit, and I turn to Katria. The Elf King is between us, in the seat of honor at her right hand.
The seat I would usually occupy. But I am happy to give it up for the sake of this rare opportunity for the fae to make peace with our usually combative neighbors.
I ask Katria, “Did you have any idea they were going to sing the epic saga of your ascension, Your Majesty?”
Katria fights a roll of her eyes. She hates it when I call her Your Majesty.
I tease her with it when we’re alone—I say it slow enough into her ear that shivers run up her spine and her toes curl.
But in public, the formality is always serious.
I want her to know that I will always give her the respect that she deserves—that she has already earned.
“I heard some whisperings that they might write a song about me,” she admits.
“I must confess I am impressed, and not just by the quality of the song,” King Eldas says in that slow, deliberate manner of his.
The man is a wall of ice, everything I would expect of the Elf King.
And yet Katria has managed to warm him in a way that I doubt I could have had the glass crown fallen on my brow.
My queen has a good-hearted nature to her that calms even the most combative.
“I haven’t heard of a song composed for a fae ruler since the times of Aviness. ”
“That is because Katria is no Boltov. Our people rejoice at having an Aviness on the throne once more and at the stability that comes with it,” I say proudly.
King Eldas’s eyes glint with skepticism.
I know of his history with the Acolytes of the Wild Wood.
Or, rather, with a group that had gone rogue, breaking away from Vena’s orders and my wishes to threaten the life of the Elf King and Human Queen in a misguided attempt to gain power and settle an old score.
Their logic was murky at best and ultimately didn’t matter after they had all been put to death by Eldas’s and Boltov’s hands.
Katria had asked my opinion on if she should be worried about the slight our people made against the Human Queen, or if she should demand some form of retribution for the Elf King administering justice on our people without consultation.
The temptation that flooded me at her inquiry was shameful.
To think that the fae might have had an opportunity to make demands of the elves…
But I would never—could never—steer her wrong.
I encouraged her to let bygones be bygones.
We attacked them, after all, and the justice was fair.
She was inclined to agree. Though, I suspect she would have without my input, given her brilliance. And, she saw what I could not—an opportunity in it to open diplomatic conversations with the elves that led to this moment.
“I hope that I will live up to the expectations of my people.” Katria’s words are sincere but somewhat scripted. Vena had her practicing safe things to say over and over before the arrival of the Elf King and Human Queen.
“I consider myself a rather decent judge of character and I think you are going to continue doing exceptionally well,” Luella chimes in from Katria’s left.
In all the ways that King Eldas is brisk, even cold, his wife is warm.
Queen Luella, the Human Queen and guardian of seasons for all Midscape, is nothing like I expected.
Perhaps there’s something about the human condition that makes them more approachable than those of us from this side of the Fade.
“From what Eldas tells me, you are already exceeding all expectations set by your predecessors.”
“My predecessors set a very low bar. I certainly hope I can clear it.” Katria grins slightly.
Luella laughs, well versed in the history of the fae; she’s been in Midscape long enough.
“But the confidence of my people has truly been a blessing. I was worried they wouldn’t accept me, given my unconventional upbringing. ”
“You are a blessing for us too,” Eldas says stiffly, “in that you are also a child of two worlds. We were at a bit of a loss at how best to manage Aruna’s growing magic.”
Luella wrangles a squirming toddler in her lap.
The little girl has the same fiery red hair as her mother and the icy eyes of her father.
We suspect she was the real reason why the Elf King agreed to an audience with Katria so soon into her rule and with little discussion.
The elves have historically taken a hands-off approach when it comes to changing fae leadership.
After Katria’s crowning, Vena scoured the history books and could find no records of children born to a parent of Midscape and the Natural World.
Certainly, we suspect there are more out there like Katria, people who have no knowledge of their magic, having grown up outside of Midscape, where their powers languish.
But how we can find those people and what to do about them, we don’t yet know.
Questions about Katria and her magic, about growing up as a child of two worlds, were some of the first things that the Elf King and Human Queen asked upon their arrival.
“She’s very determined to help you both,” I say to the Elf King.
The stiffness falls from my voice as I look at Katria, engaged in a discussion with the Human Queen.
The young one has her tiny hands wrapped around Katria’s fingers, babbling in not quite words.
I can’t help but imagine what it would look like, what it might feel like, to see her with a child…
our child. It’s a fantasy that has kept me up at night sometimes as I hold her, watching her sleep, kissing her brow in the hope that even in slumber, she never forgets how loved she is.
Overnight, my life’s mission changed from being the king of the fae to ensuring she is loved, protected, and supported in all things, and I have never looked back.
“She has already been an immense help, and I suspect she will continue to be in the future.” Eldas takes a sip from his goblet, looking out over the hall.
“Even just ensuring that our northern border won’t be a contentious component of my rule—that my daughter will grow up with one less enemy—is a gift beyond value. ”
I shift in my seat. There are still uncomfortable topics to be discussed with the elves surrounding that very border.
Land that was once fae was lost and claimed by the Elf King generations ago.
A sticking point for many. Including fae in this very hall.
I can feel their eyes upon me, their expectations that I or their queen will demand that land returned.
Everything in its time. That is what Katria said before the Elf King and Human Queen arrived.
I think she was just reassuring herself, but it is a good reminder to me as well.
Her reign will be long and prosperous. There is no need to rush these sensitive matters before we are ready.
Agreeing to assist their daughter is a far better foundation for long-term diplomacy than bringing up disputes on our first meeting.
“I hope you and your wife can rest easy in the knowledge that there are no enemies here.” I meet the Elf King’s eyes.
King Eldas holds my gaze. He’s trying to hide his doubt and suspicion. Finally, he says, “We would not have come if I had thought we would be at any genuine risk.”
I smile, knowing that, despite his words, he brought a small army with him.
Though I can’t say I blame him. If I’d thought there was even a possibility of bringing Katria into a dangerous situation, I would demand the full force of the fae to protect her.
I’m not even sure if I would’ve come, had the roles been reversed.
Especially not with my child. The little princess, more than anything, is a genuine display of good faith.
“I understand.” I make every attempt to lower my guard, to meet the Elf King with sincerity. Yet my eyes drift back to my queen. “I would do anything to protect her.”
“Then we do understand each other.” Eldas sinks back in his chair, eyes shining. “What will we do with these women who have so consumed us?”
“Create the most magnificent world for them to live in?” I suggest.
He laughs. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
“What does?” Katria has joined the conversation. Luella is paying attention as well.
“That, at long last, it might be time to arrange for a Council of Kings—and queens,” Eldas says, deftly changing the topic.
“There hasn’t been one in a few hundred years, if memory serves,” Katria says. Her studying with Vena has paid off.
“Just so.” Eldas nods, his eyes drifting to his daughter.
The Elf King forgets all decorum—he reaches over, stretching across Katria, and strokes the girl’s chubby little cheek.
“But we should gather the rulers of Midscape once more. This world is changing, and we need to ensure the safe and consistent rule of our lands for future generations.”