Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-Two
Together, we arrive at the gates not as lovers, not as legends, but as sovereigns, chosen and unshaken.
Flame and Steel. Heart and Blade. A force not summoned but returned.
It’s impossible to say whether the majority of court gathered at the gates and just inside the entry for any reason other than to break the monotony of their routine.
However, it is quite the sight, seeing so many in one place.
Yes, the banquet hall is usually full during larger celebrations, but something about the way figures file into the space strikes me differently than the bustling enthusiasm a night of revelry holds.
A proper reception will follow this evening—a signal to the court that order continues. But first, a moment of peace in our chambers to refresh and reset.
Vale stops me on the stairs before we reach the royal quarters. I was expecting him to check on me now that we are truly alone, or perhaps steal a kiss. So I am caught off guard when he grins at me, wide-eyed.
“I have a surprise for you.”
My muscles tense. I trust this man with my life, but I am hardly in a place where I want to be called upon without warning.
Sensing my discomfort, he reassures me, fingers splayed wide in the air as if coaxing an uneasy horse. “I promise, it’s a good thing. Something I set into motion before we left.”
Offering me his arm, I give him a sidelong glance, skeptical of what he has been up to in just a few short weeks.
The guard between our doors gives me no indication of what awaits us, though the faintest smile can be detected as he maintains his forward gaze.
We move down the hall to the room we now call ours together, and Vale stops before opening the door. “Close your eyes,” he urges, covering my face with one hand as he pushes the door open and leads me to the center of the room.
He moves me slowly, and beyond the rug beneath my feet, there are no clues as to what he has in store for me.
“Alright—now.” He lifts his hand, and my eyes flutter open, adjusting to the light of windows drawn wide.
Overall, the room is unchanged, barring one very significant alteration.
A set of doors now rests where the wall that once separated us stood—stone shifted to form a sweeping arch, nestled with two intricately carved wooden doors.
I look at him in awe, and he responds by nudging me gently in their direction. “Go on.”
I open the doors in tandem, the wide entrance now leading to the room that was once mine. Furniture is covered, dust from the labors still lingering in the air.
“It’s like the library at the manor,” I say, moved by his care.
“It can be,” he replies. “We can have shelves built in here if you like. Or anything else you may dream up.” He approaches and rests one hand at the small of my back, the other atop my shoulder, as I take in the transformation. “We can decide together.”
I turn and kiss him. He has given me so much—his heart, his hand, and above all else, choice.
It’s freeing to change out of my riding leathers, as if I am shedding the day with each discarded layer. I want to collapse on the bed then and there, but I know that is not in store for us. At least, with a proper gown draped over my figure, I can now collapse in Vale’s arms.
We do not have long before we are expected, but I remind myself: the crown is never late.
I delight in the fact that it is our sovereign right to linger with each other when we so choose.
Not one to shirk responsibility, though, I begrudgingly peel myself away so we can do what duty demands.
Odrin kept good charge in our stead. When an audience is held for all manners of business to be brought forth, there is little that cannot wait for tomorrow’s council.
More than anything, we are on the receiving end of well wishes—many veiled, some bold.
A few eyes linger on my belly longer than decorum allows, the empty promise of a presumed incompatible womb the one sliver of ire I can detect amidst a sea of support.
I quietly remind myself that we do not yet know what potential Vale and I may have for a family, given the ways I have changed.
Even among their kind, it can take years—or even decades—to bear fruit.
I smile at the secret I hold, the promise I may one day fulfill.
Only for a moment, though, before I remind myself that this is not how I will hold this kingdom.
Some measure of my changing will be known soon enough, but I must make a name for myself through action more than myth.
By the time the evening concludes, I feel like a queen—exhausted and weary, yet standing in a place I never thought I would belong, with a fortitude I never expected to wield in such a way.
When at last I find myself in Vale’s arms, wrapped in blankets and affection alike, I think the words I have not once allowed myself since I arrived here.
I can do this.