Chapter 2 #2
Dren gulped. “Maybe I should bring my abacus.”
Wylan stilled. “Whyever would you need that?”
“To prove to the lords that I will ensure Pine Island’s financial feasibility.” Wylan heard the unspoken part was loud. It was the same response he’d had when Feo arrived and challenged his rule of Tawney.
You’re hardly a diarn. No one’s approved you.
You’re merely the son of a lord. What’s the difference?
I serve the Queendom, to the best of my ability.
Well, I’ll serve Shepara.
In the end, that was all of their motivation, wasn’t it? To better their communities, and ensure they left a lasting, positive mark. Even after Feo moved on from the position of diarn, that never changed.
Wylan clapped Dren’s shoulder and squeezed. “Lord Dren, the only person you need to convince of that is yourself.”
Dren relaxed, and satisfaction spread through Wylan’s chest. This was what life should feel like. This was what Wylan had been missing.
They descended the staircase, and Wylan led the way to the courtyard.
It was bustling, warm, filled with music and relaxed chatter.
Kianthe and Reyna were mingling, although their daughter was suspiciously missing—hopefully being babysat by Matild and Tarly, or maybe Gossley, because if she was lurking somewhere here, trouble wouldn’t be far behind.
Wylan and Dren didn’t make it three steps into the courtyard before Ralund stopped them with a hand.
There was an instantly-recognizable gleam in the man’s eyes, and Ralund cleared his throat self-importantly.
After all, Wylan didn’t host parties often, and this was an important moment.
And in the Queendom, important moments required the right amount of formality.
“Attention, attention,” Ralund bellowed, and the music eased to a halt. Once silence had slid over the courtyard, Ralund grandly stepped aside to reveal the lords. “Announcing Lord Wylan of Tawney… and, for the first time, the newly appointed Lord Dren of Pine Island.”
Dren’s cheeks colored, and he ducked his head, hesitating at the sudden attention. But if there was ever a moment for false bravado, this was it.
Wylan gestured for Dren to enter the courtyard first as a sign of respect. In Queendom court, the owner of the manor entered a party first, followed by guests—unless the owner wanted to acknowledge the standing of another, more important party.
Dren drew a deep breath and obliged.
As Dren entered the courtyard to hushed silence, Wylan couldn’t help himself.
His eyes cut to Feo, lingering near the back of the party.
The sudden proximity felt overwhelming, even with a dozen paces between them.
But then Wylan realized that Feo was squinting at Dren instead—and he knew that look.
Feo was sizing up the new lord like they might a bug under their boot.
Irritation slid over Wylan’s skin, and he pulled his attention back. This was Dren’s moment. Not Feo’s. Not Wylan’s.
To prove it, Queen Reyna, sovereign of the Queendom, began to clap.
Beside her, Kianthe whistled, and Tessalyn whooped.
Applause broke out in the courtyard, and leaders from around the Realm welcomed the newest member to their ranks.
Their approval filled the courtyard with warmth and happiness, multiplying when Reyna approached Lord Dren and bowed.
Lord Dren scrambled to bow back. “Your Excellency.”
“My lord,” she replied, a pleased smile dancing across her lips. “I hope this introduction isn’t too overwhelming?”
Considering the queen had just bowed to him, Dren was handling it remarkably well. He tugged at his vest and stammered, “N-No, absolutely not. I’m prepared to socialize with the dignitaries present and—and represent your court with pride.”
Unlike the formal wear of the lords present, Reyna was wearing a warrior’s uniform, more reminiscent of the Queensguard than a sovereign.
She’d left her sword at home, but that didn’t mean much—she undoubtedly had several other weapons on her person.
In fact, the only sign that Reyna was royalty at all was the gold dragon insignia pinned to her cloak.
She unhooked that now and carefully secured the pin onto Lord Dren’s vest instead.
He straightened, pulling his shoulders back, but Wylan didn’t miss the sweat beading on his brow.
Reyna didn’t either. She chuckled, stepping back.
“You have nothing to prove, Lord Dren. If anything, these folks should be making you feel welcome, not the other way around.” She raised her voice, addressing the attendees.
“On behalf of myself, my court, and our Parliament, Tessalyn and I are delighted to formally introduce Lord Dren, steward of Pine Island. May his rule be kind and fair, and may his citizens prosper.”
Another cheer arose.
“Now, my love?” Reyna asked.
“Mmm?” Kianthe perked up.
“Can you retrieve Lord Dren a shot of rum? I suspect he’ll need a large pour.”
“On it.” The Arcandor sauntered into the crowd, aiming for the refreshment stand.
Lord Wylan cleared his throat. Now that the queen had said her piece, he took control as the party’s host. “Please, enjoy the festivities, and find time to greet Lord Dren. The Pine Islands are rich in natural resources, and could benefit from new trade routes. I’m certain he’d love to discuss logistics. ”
“My abacus is upstairs,” Lord Dren moaned. “I knew I’d need it.”