Sixteen
Azulin
A week later, something was seriously wrong. I was due to take Calypso to the winter palace, but as I sat at my desk and surveyed the carnage, my heart despaired at ever reaching the end of the work ahead. Stacks upon piles of paperwork cluttered the surface and drove me to exhaustion. Despite the nonstop work arriving, I’d made no apparent progress in whittling down the overwhelming mess before me. And even worse, the desire to even try had waned to almost nothing.
As Soren stood at my side rattling off the appointments and meetings to attend, reports to approve, and transactions to review, I wanted to scream. This was torture.
Back before the curse, I hadn’t spent my life like this. I clearly recalled training sessions with a master-at-arms multiple times a week, hours spent researching matters of interest. Of course, I also recalled spending hours arguing tenaciously with my brother over how to care for our father, trading ideas with ministers about approaches to problems of state, and spending evenings at official social events being hounded by opportunists who hoped to bend my ear.
“Where did this all come from?” I demanded.
Soren snapped his mouth shut mid-sentence and regarded me warily. “All what, sire?”
“This mess. Contracts, reports, and—” I picked up the nearest page. “Requisition orders.” I tossed the page back on the pile. It gracefully slid off the top and fell to land on the next pile below. “Come to think of it, I don’t recall ever having to approve requisition orders before the curse.”
Soren pursed his mouth. “Grizzlemunch accused the prime councilor of embezzling funds, so the council passed a policy that all requisitions required your signature before being carried out.”
My eyebrows rose. “When was this?”
“Four seasons ago, I think.”
“And the requirement that I read and sign off on every report?”
Soren nodded. “Every department and sub-department of every property in the crown’s possession must submit a quarterly progress report in long form and triplicate.”
“Triplicate? I’m not the only one reading these?”
“I am not privy to whether or not the reports are read, sire, but you are the only one required to approve them via signature.”
I studied the leaning tower of reports before me, each embossed with the official seal of the crown. “Who are receiving the additional two reports?”
“Grizzlemunch and the queen at the winter palace.”
“In that case, I need to plug this hole. I was looking for a mole, and beneath my nose, a torrent of information is gushing out into the world.” Plucking the top report from the pile, I glanced at the heading. “Take a note, Soren.”
In a flustered scramble, my secretary juggled his stack of books, tugging one out from near the bottom and plopping it on top. Then flipping it open, he flicked through the pages until he found a blank one. “Pencil,” he muttered as he patted his pockets.
“Behind your ear,” I reminded him as I studied the military report in my hand.
“Ah.” He pulled a nubbin of a pencil from his hair and poised it over the paper. “Ready, sire.”
“New policy: from now on, only the king will receive all reports referencing the crown’s assets, properties, personnel, military, scheduling—or nay, make that any report of any kind. Only one version of every report. Anyone creating duplicates, demanding duplicates, or otherwise attempting to gather said reports or information from any source other than the king’s secretary is to be reported and arrested.”
“But, sire.” Soren swallowed hard. “Some exchange of information is necessary between departments to assist in their function.”
I nodded. “Those persons may inquire and prove the necessity of information to their function. Once the need is proven, only one or two people within the department will be given the responsibility of relaying that necessary information.”
After a few moments of scribbling, Soren finished tweaking the wording of the new policy. He read it back to me. Upon my approval, he hesitated.
“Yes, Soren? Do you not approve of the change?”
“It will make our already troublesome workload even greater, sire.”
“True,” I agreed. “Which brings me to my next decision. Hire three new assistants for yourself.” I eyed him over the top of the paper in my hand. “They will organize the load and process the paperwork. We can strategize on how to make this—” I waved at the heap on my desk. “—manageable and no longer this constant avalanche.” I motioned to the mess on my desk. “I cannot spend my life shuffling through paperwork. There is more to running a kingdom than reading reports.” I tossed the documents I held back on the pile in front of me, not caring if it was the correct one or not. “My companion and I are leaving to visit my parents this morning. Upon my return, I would like to hear about the progress you’ve made toward finding assistants.” I rose and strode for the door. I missed my wife, and I was eager to see her again.
“Sire?”
I paused and turned to regard my secretary. “Yes, Soren?”
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Sire.” He swallowed hard, the lump in his neck bobbing with the action.
“Spit it out,” I advised.
“You see, the court has been talking—about your companion—and they keep asking me the same question.”
I glared at my secretary. “She’s not going anywhere.”
Soren nodded enthusiastically. “I told them that. It’s …there are rumors that she is blackmailing you.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “No. She isn’t blackmailing me.”
Quite the opposite. She was freeing me.
∞∞∞
Calypso
Midmorning arrived before Azulin was ready to leave.
After another round of arguments with me, Glosove gave me a freshly modified gown to wear. It was made of fine blue wool with only a bit of delicate embroidery on the cuffs and neckline. He’d also modified a brownie’s cloak so that it fit around my shoulders.
Azulin, fresh from changing himself, assessed my appearance with a quick glance. “When will the rest of her wardrobe be ready?”
Glosove wrung his hands. Apparently Azulin’s intensity was causing some anxiety. “A dozen by tomorrow morning, sire, and more each day after that.”
“We will be attending formal events within a week’s time. See that she has options to choose from before then.”
“Yes, sire.” Glosove bowed deeply. “I will see to it personally, sire.”
“Then you are dismissed.” Azulin turned away to speak with Ghost.
The tailor bowed to me. “It has been a pleasure, my lady, to work with someone so strong-willed in her opinions.”
“Are you insulting my companion?” Azulin demanded, swinging back around to face us.
“No, sire, not in the least.” The tailor’s features tightened. “I was merely complimenting her decisiveness.”
Azulin’s dark eyes narrowed, and the air tingled with gathering magic.
“Pardon me, sire.” Glosove bowed again to Azulin. “We must begin work on those formal gowns.” He motioned to his assistants and made a hasty retreat.
“He was insulting you.” Azulin’s hand tightened into a fist.
“It was the truth,” I pointed out.
“A truth I happen to like about you. It annoys me that others don’t appreciate you.”
I stared at my husband in stunned surprise.
“What?” he asked when he found me watching him.
“I think you are the first person who has ever appreciated that I am stubborn and opinionated.”
“No one appreciated that about you?” Azulin frowned. “Not even your former sweetheart?”
I laughed. “He hated my stubbornness.”
Azulin caught my hand. Threading his fingers through mine, he drew them up to his mouth. “More fool him,” he declared before pressing a brief kiss to my fingertips. His eyes darkened once more as he studied me over our joined hands. Warmth flooded my face.
Ghost cleared his throat. “We should leave, sire.”
Closing his eyes as though pained, Azaulin took a slow, deep breath. “Agreed.” He released my fingers and turned away, opening a portal.
“Anything I should know about your family before I meet them?” I asked as the circle of sparks formed. The view in the center revealed a manicured garden and lawn below a towering castle. The nerves I had been battling all morning flooded through me.
Azulin drew me through the portal, glancing back to check that Ghost followed us. “Both my parents are still living. My father’s mind wanders constantly between the past, present, and a fictional future of his own creation. His curse doesn’t seem to negatively affect his body’s health, so he’ll probably live in this state or worse for another century or more. My mother, long-suffering saint that she is, never leaves his side.”
“And your brother?”
“Ah, Oran. Yes, he keeps an eye on Father and supports Mother.” Azulin’s tone shifted, and an undercurrent of something I couldn’t identify made me uncomfortable. There was history there. And unlike my history with my family, I suspected this complicated history went back centuries.
Ghost stepped through the portal, and Azulin closed it with a sizzling snap.
The dragon’s smoky scent intensified as his gaze moved from me to Azulin and back. He raised a brow in inquiry. I shrugged.
“She asked about Oran,” Azulin declared without turning away from the castle above us. “I hope you are prepared to walk.” He motioned toward the beginning of a staircase. “The castle proper is magic-suppressed to contain my father’s temper tantrums, which is why we arrived here. It also means we have to climb a great many stairs to reach the entrance.” He glanced at me. “If you grow weary at any point, you can shift, and I can carry you.”
I laughed. “Only a few weeks ago, I was trekking all day across fields gathering winter grain and hauling water. I think I’m capable of tackling a few flights of stairs.”
Instead of smiling, Azulin’s expression turned thoughtful. “You did all this alone?”
“No, I had help harvesting. However, the water was my responsibility.”
“Along with tending the children, cooking, and cleaning the house?”
“Yes.”
“Which was why you married me.” He stated it, but I decided to take it as a question.
“One reason, yes.” I eyed him as we walked. “You know that very few people live in the luxury you do, right?”
“I am aware, but every one of my servants is paid for their labor.”
“I received a safe place to sleep and food in my belly. It was a fair trade.”
Based on Azulin’s stormy expression, he didn’t agree on the equality of the exchange. Before I could try to explain, a group of fae descended the staircase toward us.
Ghost moved to intercept them, blocking their access to us. The head of the contingent performed an elaborate bow, which was mimicked by the guards behind him. “Your Majesty, we didn’t expect you until later in the day.”
“If this is an inconvenient time, we can depart.” Azulin claimed my hand and turned away from the greetin party. I almost recoiled at the intensity of the emotions that pressed in on me via our connection when he threaded his fingers through mine.
“Don’t you dare leave!” a male voice yelled.
Azulin froze but didn’t turn toward the voice.
However, I turned to look. A tall high fae male came running down the last flight of stairs. He hurdled a row of flowers before striding across the lawn. “I forbid it!” He strode through the midst of the group that had already arrived and stalked around to stand face to face with Azulin.
To my surprise, Ghost merely stepped back and let the intensely emoting male approach without a word.
“You forbid it?” Azulin’s voice hardened. “Last I knew, I was still king.”
The pair of them were of similar height and build. The stranger’s skin was slightly darker than Azulin’s, as though he spent more time in the sun. However, his hair was fairer, burnished a lighter gold than my husband’s dark blond curls. But where Azulin’s posture was arrow straight and his shoulders rarely relaxed, this new fae’s demeanor was more relaxed, even while rigid with apparent anger.
Azulin’s irritation vibrated across our connection, but it didn’t match the emotion in his voice and demeanor as he glared at the fae.
The stranger spoke. “I do not deny your authority, brother, but I do question your commitment to your responsibilities.” The fae glanced at me. Taking in Azulin’s grasp on my hand , he refocused his attention on Azulin’s face. “You haven’t visited our parents in nearly a year.”
“A fact you never let me forget.” Azulin grimaced, anger flaring through the bond.
I tugged at his hand, hoping he would release my fingers or, at the least, hoping I could distract him.
Instead, he turned to me and said in a low voice. “Lady Anon, I unwillingly present you to my ruffian younger brother, Oran. Brother, my wife.”
“I thought we weren’t sharing that information,” I whispered, tugging on our joined hands.
Azulin didn’t respond.
“You married a human?” Oran studied me for a moment before offering me a deep bow. “My pardon, my lady—or I should say, my queen. No matter what species you are, we owe you the greatest of debts if you have broken my brother’s curse and succeeded where so many have failed.”
Azulin didn’t let me answer. “She is to be protected at all costs, understand?”
I swallowed my annoyance and took on my apparently role as bystander in the conversation.
Oran’s head snapped up, and he narrowed his gaze at his brother. “Of course. I assume you have taken the usual precautions.”
“As many as I could considering the time constraint.” Azulin released my hand and tugged back the cuff of his left sleeve, revealing the mating mark coiling around his wrist.
Oran gasped and the greeter from the welcome party let out an exclamation in a language I didn’t recognize. Both Azulin and Oran turned.
The greeter suddenly found himself the focus of the combined scrutiny of both brothers. The air thickened with magic and tension. Ghost stepped up behind the servant, oozing an intimidating magical pressure detectable even from where I stood with Azulin.
“Recall your oath of loyalty,” Oran reminded the fae before turning back to Azulin. “I assume this is not common knowledge.”
My husband tugged his sleeve back into place. “You are the first to know beyond the witnesses and the pooka who bound us.”
Oran’s eyebrows rose. “A pooka? I sense a story there.”
“For later.” Azulin nodded toward the castle above us. “Are Mother and Father prepared for our arrival?”
Sadness darkened Oran’s expression. “Mother will be delighted to see you as always. You are her favorite still. Father…” Oran hesitated as he frowned at the ground. “His temperament and responses are harder to predict these days. Best you meet him and then we talk.”
“Will he be civil?” Azulin asked.
As though by some hidden signal, the brothers turned to continue up the stairs. Unwilling to intrude, I dropped back to follow behind them. The guards organized themselves into an escort, two taking the lead and marching quickly ahead. The remaining two fell into formation behind, leaving me and the fae who had greeted us walking together. Ghost followed on our heels.
“My lady.” The fae bowed to me awkwardly as we walked. “Will the king be staying with us overnight?”
Clearly he hadn’t heard the declaration of my status despite seeing the Azulin’s mating mark.
Before I could reply, Azulin stopped in the path and turned. Striding back to me, he claimed my hand again, lacing our fingers. Wordlessly, he guided me to walk between himself and Oran. Then he squeezed my fingers.
“Stay close.”
Oran fell into step with us as Azulin adjusted his stride for my shorter legs, and then they resumed their discussion over my head as though nothing had happened.
Ghost moved into place between the servant and our group.
Behind him I heard a slight huff of frustration from the servant, but otherwise, the rest of the walk up to the castle passed without further interruption.
As we entered the castle, my breath was taken away at the grandeur that greeted us. Every room we passed through featured high arched ceilings, gold fixtures, and marble floors. Expensive wall hangings of exquisite craftsmanship decorated the walls, and thick carpets and lushly appointed furniture filled even the most common of spaces.
We traveled through a foyer, up a massive staircase, and down a wide corridor where we left the escorting guards. Then, after passing through four rooms in quick succession, our single fae escort scuttled ahead and grandly opened a door before us. Ghost, to my surprise, fell back and took up a guarding position in the corridor.
“King of the Seelie, Master of the Wild Woods, Arista Peaks, and all the lands north and east accompanied by the Royal Prince of the Seelie, and—” The fae stuttered to a halt.
Azulin spoke for him. “My wife, the uncrowned Queen of the Seelie, Mistress of the Wild Woods, Arista Peaks, and all the lands north and east.” He glared at the fae as we passed into the room. “I find myself very disappointed in the training of your staff, brother.”
“Have no doubt the matter will be rectified at the first opportunity.” Oran’s voice promised dire things for the poor fae servants.
“Please don’t,” I whispered, torn between concern for the servant and confusion about this sudden openness about our marriage.
Oran’s eyebrows rose for the briefest moment as he eyed me before his official mask slipped into place again. The brothers were alike in so many ways.
“He slighted you.” Oran spoke softly as he dropped back with me to let Azulin approach the two occupants of the room.
“That is a reflection on him, not me.”
“And if I don’t address it, the lack of repercussions will reflect badly on me and my household. It is his job to know how to announce my guests.”
“Father, Mother.” Azulin bowed his head slightly to his parents as we approached their position at the far end of the room. Oran and I cut off our conversation as we followed his lead and offered our greetings.
I curtsied deeply, choosing overcompensation to avoid the chance of offending my new family members.
“Az!” The woman rose and glided over to Azulin, embracing him warmly. As a high fae, her movements were liquid and lovely. Flawlessly beautiful, her pale skin glowed with health and warmth and luxurious hair fell about her shoulders in dark silken waves. Her features betrayed none of her age. “We have been so worried. Are you well? Have you been resting?” Then she hesitated, studying her son intently. “Something is different.”
“I am well, Mother.” Azulin let a small smile slip across his lips. “It isn’t as though I’ve been in much danger.”
“We both know that is patently false.” She patted him on the cheek as though he were a small child. “The curse has been hounding you for far too long. I know how that kind of burden wears on one.” She gave the subtlest of nods to the fae man sitting behind her, glaring at all of us.
“How is he?” Azulin asked softly.
Pressing her lips together, she appeared to weigh her words. Then in sotto voce, she said, “Today has not been pleasant.”
“Stop mincing words, Mother.” Oran stalked toward the throne where his father waited. “Father has been a regular bear of a nuisance today. He has thrown most everything he’s been able to get his hands on, brought three servants to tears, and cursed out an end table.”
“Blasted idiots all,” the former king muttered. Yanking on his long coat, the fae turned in his chair to give his younger son a dramatic cold shoulder.
In contrast to his wife, Azulin’s father appeared like a frail shadow of a fae. The unnatural uniformity of his features lent his haggard face a measure of lingering beauty, but the moments of vacant wandering eyes and the slackness of his expression hinted at a frightening madness beneath the fa?ade.
He gripped his armed chair as though it were a throne someone wished to take from him. Where his wife’s hair remained full, lush, and dark, his was thinning and white as snow. Still, I could see the remnants of the fae he had been in his prime. If he stood, I suspected he would rival his sons in height and breadth of shoulder despite his stooped appearance.
As though bracing himself, Azulin adjusted his shoulders and settled his clothing. Then he stepped around his mother and approached the former king. “Father?”
The older fae lifted his head and peered up at his elder son. A moment of clarity crossed his features and his eyes focused on Azulin. “Greetings, disappointment.”
Azulin barely flinched, but an acute ache formed in my gut as the vine on my arm tightened uncomfortably.
Oran and his mother exchanged a loaded glance.
The former queen sighed. “You two clearly need to catch up on current events.” She approached me. “Come, my dear, let us leave the men to argue.”
I glanced toward Azulin. He had instructed me to stay close, but how could I deny a direct request of his mother? She might not be acting-queen but—
“I will go with you,” Oran announced loudly enough to catch Azulin’s attention. “We all know how politics bore me.” The brothers exchanged a look. Crossing the room, Oran caught my elbow and steered me toward the door in his mother’s wake. My last glimpse of Azulin was over my shoulder.
He was standing with his back to me, saying something to his father.
“He told me to stay close,” I whispered at Oran as we paraded down the wide corridor again. Servants appeared around each corner as we walked. They consulted with the former queen in front of us and then left as quietly as they had appeared.
Oran focused intently on his mother. “You are safe with me. I won’t let the old dame hurt you.”
“But—”
“Summer salon or the garden?” his mother asked.
“Your choice, Mother. Either will work.”
I glared up at him. “Is this to give Azulin time with your father or to kidnap me?”
Oran laughed, a deep chuckle that sounded a bit like Azulin’s. “My, you are a suspicious creature.”
“With good reason, apparently.” I tried to yank my elbow from his grasp, but superior fae strength won.
“Don’t get so worked up,” Oran advised. “We mean you no harm. Az needs to face the reality of our father’s decay properly. Meanwhile, Mother and I need to speak to you. We require honest answers about how you came to be married to my brother and how that relates to the curse’s breaking.”
The former queen turned in the next doorway and we followed. The moment we crossed the threshold, though, Oran kicked the door shut in our entourage’s faces. There was a disturbing lack of Ghost’s presence among those we left behind.
“Inside or outside, Mother?” Oran asked.
His mother paused in the center of the room. “Which location will offer less opportunity for eavesdropping? We don’t want to risk a new curse. Or worse.” She nodded at me.
“Then the water gardens are best. I can set a misdirection spell, as well as one against listening there.”
“But we must avoid the sun,” she replied, elegantly gesturing toward her face.
“Pick a big shade tree.” Oran rolled his eyes at me companionably, as though we were co-conspirators in something.
“Do you not trust your servants?” I asked.
Oran blinked at me in surprise. “I trust no one.”
“Not even Azulin?”
Oran laughed without humor. “Now that is complicated. Would I trust him with my life? Yes. My feelings about a matter? Probably not. Az is too cold by half and too much like our father.”
I mulled over that while Oran continued to escort me firmly by my elbow along winding garden paths.
Azulin fostered a detached fa?ade, but that was all it was, a fa?ade, a mask, a role he played. Right? I recalled his amusement at my open suspicion when we met and the multiple times he had protected, sheltered, or saved me. He considered my feelings in decisions and cared about those he interacted with. No, Azulin was decidedly not distant or lacking empathy.
Why, then, did his brother think that the cold mask was Azulin’s actual personality?
Azulin’s mother stopped in the middle of a clearing. Bordered by a stream and hemmed in on all sides by trees, the small island was large enough for a small crowd, but not expansive enough to compromise privacy. “Here,” she declared. “Will you set the spells?” Then not bothering to wait for an answer, she crossed a bridge and started walking toward a bench under the largest shade tree.
“Immediately, Mother.” Oran grimaced at her back before whispering to me, “She forgets she is no longer queen, and unlike my father, she has no excuse.” He eyed me. “Do you want to sit with her or walk with me while I set the spells?”
The former queen settled on the stone bench in the shade of the massive tree. She adjusted her skirts, straightened her back, and closed her eyes.
“I will walk with you,” I decided.