by N. C. Hayes
Aydan stood before us for a full minute before it was time for the prominent witnesses to make their oaths of fealty. Nobles from Xarynn went first, kneeling before Aydan, some kissing his hand before quietly reciting their prepared oaths. Next came the pair of representatives from Sylvanna, sent by Solandis and Priamos to observe the coronation by proxy. They swore no oath but knelt before the king and pressed his hand to their foreheads. Solandis and Priamos would swear fealty in person once the new treaties were signed.
Lord Declan was next, accompanied by Lord Dracus and half of the Ayzellen Council. He did not let it show, but I could feel the resentment radiating from Declan as he too knelt before his king and said the words. When the other council members were finished, it was time for the Cabinet to approach.
We stood from our seats and filed forward to the stage. Aydan’s face had remained the same throughout the whole ceremony, and it did not change for us. I watched as Hannele, then Kenna, Alastair, and Gerridan each knelt before their friend and brother, pressed a kiss to his hand and brought it to their brow, as the other Sylvannians had done. Our words would be different, we’d decided. It was my turn to kneel. Like the others, I kissed my king’s hand and touched it to my brow.
“Your Majesty, I swear to you now, before gods and men, that I will serve the Crown faithfully. That I will protect your throne with honor, do your bidding, and guard your realm, all the days of my life.”
Aydan’s solemn gaze shifted to mine for the briefest moment, then snapped forward once more. The enormity of my vow fluttered in my chest, and I did my best to push it down as I joined the rest of the Cabinet to the side of the stage, now facing the other witnesses. They stared intently at Aydan while the Guard, led by Stefan, took their turns kneeling. When they finished, the room fell fully silent.
The blue glow of the royal line began to encase Aydan’s hands, and then his arms. Static like tiny lightning bolts sparked from his fingertips as the glow became a bright, nearly blinding light. I wanted to shield my eyes, but it was impossible to turn away. The light shrunk again and became small pools in his palms, which Aydan held upright toward the heavens. He stepped forward and began to walk back down the aisle of the temple. The Priestess called out from the stage as he reached the doors, “Long live the Anointed King—Aydan, the Lion of Medeisia!”
“Long live the King!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Aydan would not be joining us at the feast. It was tradition for the newly anointed king to spend the feast secluded in silent prayer until the start of the start of the ball.
Stefan offered me his arm, which I accepted, while we walked to the great hall. The rest of the Cabinet trailed behind us, and a small knot formed in my chest. I wished they would walk beside me, if only for Gerridan to quickly refresh me on all the people I would be meeting in a few moments.
“Thank gods that’s over.” Stefan sighed. “You immortals and your ceremonies—I swear, you forget that not all of us have unlimited time.”
“I thought it was beautiful,” I said.
“Oh . . . yes, of course. It was just long . . .” he corrected. “Sorry. A bad joke.” I forced a small smile and changed the subject.
“What will you do during the feast?” He knew that I would be with the Cabinet, greeting the guests.
“I’ll go change out of my armor. Hopefully by the time I get back, you’ll be nearly done.” When we reached the great hall, Stefan bent and kissed my cheek before walking away swiftly toward his suite. I flushed.
As soon as he was gone, Gerridan swooped into the vacant spot, taking my arm and looping it through his own. He winked at me.
“Well, Lady Advisor.” He smirked. “Are you ready to represent the Crown?” I swallowed.
“Am I allowed to say no?”
“Absolutely not,” he declared, patting my hand. Hannele appeared on my other side, falling into place to flank me.
“You’ll be great,” she said kindly. I nodded, then took a breath and squared my shoulders.
“Let’s do it, then,” I said, stepping forward into the great hall.
~
The start of the feast went smoothly enough.
Gerridan stayed by my side for most of it, standing back and allowing me to take the lead once he’d introduced me as Aydan’s new Chief Advisor. Alastair joined some of the lower generals for a drink, while Hannele and Kenna were roped into a conversation with one of the visiting Sylvannian representatives. Gerridan had found no need to correct me thus far. He only stepped in when we saw the broad-chested, heavily mustached Duke of Xarynn making his way toward us with a wide smile on his face.
“It looks like the captain has returned,” Gerridan told me. “Perhaps you should greet him and let me take this one.”
“I thought I was doing well.”
“You are,” he said, turning us away so the duke would not hear, “but the Duke of Xarynn is incapable of speaking to an unmarried woman without attempting to seduce her. So unless you want a man who eats nothing but clams and fish heads to spend the rest of the night breathing down your neck, I suggest you go greet your lover.”
“He’s not—”
“Go.” He pushed me toward where Stefan indeed now stood. As I walked away, I heard the emissary loudly greet the duke, “Your Grace, how lovely to see you again . . .”
Stefan was waiting, holding two goblets and looking quite dashing. He’d changed into a pair of brown tailored pants, with black boots and a blue waistcoat embroidered in gold. It was more luxurious and expensive than anything I’d ever seen him wear before.
“You look handsome.”
“Thank you.” He handed me a drink. “The woman in the shop said it was fashionable, but I never know with these sorts of things.”
“It suits you,” I confirmed. One of the waitstaff walked by with a large tray of hors d’oeuvres. I stopped him and took two of the small plates offered with a variety of food. Lord Declan had insisted on this rather than a traditional, sit-down feast. Platters of food would be set up throughout the room for the night—preserved at its proper temperature by magic—for people to graze from as they pleased. Hannele and I had not objected to the idea, but the princess rolled her eyes later over Declan’s eagerness for Ayzelle to appear modern and exciting.
Stefan and I stood making small talk for the next half hour as we watched the nobles interact, joking about their clothes and their obvious desperation to appear closer to the king than they were. After more than a century of gossiping about the Wayward Prince, many were now scrambling to save face.
“Well, it might not all be gossip,” Stefan commented around a bite of finger sandwich.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“The rumors about him,” he said after swallowing. “Some of them come from very reliable sources in Sylvanna, across the sea . . .” I stared at him.
“What are you talking about?”
“What, you really don’t know?”
He lowered his voice. “They didn’t call him wayward just because he disobeyed his father. There are plenty of rumors about Aydan Aevitarus beyond family dramatics.” Stefan took a drink. Was this his fourth? “Apparently, he has broken several courtships and engagements with members of noble families in Sylvanna—according to some sources, he has a bastard or two back home.” I swallowed. “He was a decorated soldier in his grandmother’s army, but that all fell apart after he executed a pair of civilians in Auperene—”
“Why would Sylvannian soldiers be in the faelands?” I asked.
“Sylvanna has been rogue for decades. Who knows what they’ve been getting up to? Apparently, the fae king was so furious that he threatened war with Solandis and she forced King Aydan to step down from his service.”
“That doesn’t sound like him. He told me he retired,” I said, my brow furrowing.
“I’m sure that’s what it says on paper.” He shrugged again. I drank deeply from my goblet, emptying the last of it.
“What else?”
&nb
sp; “Not much that I can think of,” Stefan said as he beckoned for one of the waitstaff to come to us. He gave the man our empty goblets and took a pair of fresh ones from his tray. “Oh,” he said after sipping from his new drink, “there was the supposed incident with Lord Vesper, but the details on that have been so muddled that no one I’ve heard repeat it can tell the same story.”
“Lord Vesper… . . . as in Lady Kenna?” The seer was standing on the other side of the hall with Hannele, talking with the Floinn sisters, who I could only imagine would have plenty to say about my colleague’s attire when they left. Stefan nodded. “What happened to him?”
“He was found slaughtered inside the Vesper family home some fifteen years ago,” Stefan replied. “There was never any real proof that His Majesty was involved, but the circumstances—”
“If there’s no real proof, then why tell me?” I asked, growing nauseated. “You shouldn’t be speaking of such things.” The time I’d spent with Aydan before the attack, everything he ever told me about himself . . . Did I even know him?
Stefan returned to chatting happily about the evening and about upcoming training for new recruits for the Guard, as if he had not just delivered to me a list of unsettling stories about our king, the man I had just sworn to serve without question. There had to be more to it than what Stefan was telling me. I made a mental note to speak discreetly with Hannele, and started tuning out Stefan in favor of looking around the hall again. It was not much longer until the herald cried out:
“His Majesty, King Aydan!”
Aydan entered alone, now in black pants and a deep plum tunic, with a gold crown formed into roses atop his head. He strode to the center of the hall to a round of applause. With his hands behind his back, he gave the room a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you,” he said, raising a hand for silence. “I’d like to also acknowledge Lord Declan, for his careful planning of tonight’s festivities.” He gestured to the lord, who bowed deeply. I smirked, knowing how badly Declan would have wanted to complain about his lack of recognition. “Now please, enjoy yourselves. The night is still young.” Applause erupted once again as Aydan made his way to greet the Duke of Xarynn, who had joined the Sylvannian representatives, and music began to play from an unseen orchestra.
“Why’d he change crowns?” I wondered aloud. “The other was magnificent.”
“It would probably break his neck before the night was through. That much gold and jewels, I’d be shocked if it was lighter than fifteen pounds.” I winced at the thought of that much weight balanced on one’s head. “Though,” Stefan continued, “that crown in particular is likely a message regarding the king’s intentions with Sylvanna.” The rose was the sigil of Sylvanna. I pursed my lips; more rumors, it seemed.
“You don’t think the new trade agreements are a good idea?” I asked. The upcoming treaties were no secret throughout court.
“King Aydan has now spent nearly two mortal lifetimes under the influence of his grandparents. Reuniting the Crown with Sylvanna likely means handing the throne to Solandis.”
“I don’t know where you’re getting your information, but I have seen no indication of such a thing,” I said, glancing in Aydan’s direction. He was still talking to the duke, whose boisterous laugh could be heard over the orchestra.
“Well, he wouldn’t have told you yet, would he?”
“I’m his Chief Advisor, Stef. I’m at his side every day—”
“But you’re not his Sylvannian inner circle, are you?” he argued. “You didn’t know about his reputation, and you certainly haven’t been active in court long enough to understand how the Lord and Lady of Sylvanna feel about the Crown. Mark my words, the Wayward Prince has no desire to govern. This unification pipe dream is a scheme laid out by his grandparents—”
“Stefan,” I hissed. “You are completely out of line.”
“Out of line?”
“Yes. You’ve been spouting rumors all night, which I tolerated if only to know what’s been said. But I will not sit here and listen to the Captain of the King’s Guard spout conspiracy theories about the king’s loyalties to his own throne, no matter how close we are—”
“My lady, might I ask that you join me for a dance?” I turned and saw Gerridan standing behind me patiently. I blinked a few times, and he glanced pointedly at my hands. A small stream of smoke was coming from my fingertips. I clenched and released my fists, which seemed to make the smoke subside.
“That sounds lovely.” I took Gerridan’s offered hand and allowed him to lead me to the dance floor, leaving Stefan alone and fuming.
“Careful,” Gerridan murmured, his lips nearly grazing my ear as he leaned in. “You’ll send this place up like a tinderbox if you keep getting into lovers’ quarrels in public.”
“Stefan is not my lover,” I replied coolly. We stood at the edge of the dance floor, waiting for a new song to begin before joining in. Gerridan led me onto the floor when it was our turn.
“That’s not what he thinks.” He guided me through the first few steps with ease. I shook my head.
“Lord Stefan is my friend, that’s it—” I cut myself off to concentrate on my footing. “Gods, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said yes to this. I can barely keep up.”
“I’ve got it covered,” he assured me, chuckling a little. He shifted his hand to grip my waist and pulled me closer. He held me off the floor, with my shoes just resting on the tops of his. I flushed, thankful that my dress covered my feet so no one could see.
“Now I feel like a child.” I huffed an embarrassed laugh. Gerridan laughed too, then leaned to speak softly in my ear, his cheek pressed against mine.
“Your friend doesn’t look so happy with us,” he said. At the next turn in our steps, I was able to nonchalantly look in Stefan’s direction. Most of the guests either watched the dance floor as a whole or mingled amongst themselves. Stefan stood alone, glaring directly at us as he drank from his goblet. Gods, how much wine had he drank tonight? Kenna, Hannele, and Alastair remained mingling throughout the hall.
“Why aren’t our friends dancing?” I asked.
“They don’t like Ayzellen dances,” Gerridan replied. “Kenna says it doesn’t feel natural, the rehearsed steps.”
“And you do?” I inquired. If anyone seemed the type to dislike structure, it was Gerridan.
“I used to travel to negotiate with Ayzelle, Xarynn, Nautia before the rebellion—even some of the smaller territories. Feasting, dancing, and wooing the nobility are a bigger part of my job than you might think.”
“So that’s why you’re such an insufferable flirt,” I said. His eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Careful, my lady, or I might just drop you.”
“Don’t you dare.”
We talked and joked, both of us admitting our excitement to be done with coronation planning so we could sink into a bit of normalcy. Truthfully, I did not know what normal would look like for me here. A routine, of course, as there was both a court and a kingdom to run. There was still the Sylvannian treaty and Aydan’s goals with Nautia. But life without fear, life with freedom,was something I looked forward to a great deal. When I asked what Gerridan considered normalcy, he said, “Getting back into the sparring ring, for one. You can join me if you like.”
“Sparring?” I repeated. “What, like fighting? Why would I need to do that?”
“Plenty of ladies train. Even if you never use it, it couldn’t hurt to know how to defend yourself. It can be useful for developing magic as well—to know your body’s limitations. As your powers grow, you might find that you need more strength than you currently hold.”
I considered for a second but shook my head. “Thank you, but I think I’ll just focus on magic for now.”
“The offer remains.”
The song ended. Those of us on the dance floor applauded the hidden orchestra, and almost immediately the music started again, this time with a slower tempo. The emissary raised an eyebrow and offered his hand once again. I
smiled and allowed him to pull me in closely and led me in the dance, despite feeling Stefan’s stare pounding into us.
After some time to adjust to the new steps, I decided what Stefan had told me couldn’t wait for me to speak to Hannele. “Speaking of fighting . . .” Gerridan’s eyebrows rose. “I heard a rumor, about Aydan’s time in the army.”
“And what might that be?” he asked, though his tone indicated that he knew exactly what rumor I was talking about.
“Something about executing civilians in Auperene.” Gerridan led me through a turn and brought me back close before replying.
“Who could be whispering such treasonous tales in earshot of the Chief Advisor?” he asked sarcastically, glancing in Stefan’s direction. I shot Gerridan a look and he sighed. “It’s really not my story to tell. But it is public knowledge back home, so I suppose there’s no harm.” Another turn. “The fae king asked Solandis for soldiers to spare in a search and rescue that one of his sons—Alec, I think—was conducting. A string of kidnappings in their capital, girls being taken in the night. Aydan volunteered, and a week or so into the mission, they found the girls and the men who had taken them, preparing them for sale to the highest bidder.” My stomach churned. “The girls were rescued, and after Aydan treated their injuries, they were taken home to their families. It turned out the men were from the outskirts of Sylvanna. Normally, it would be left to Solandis and the fae king to determine who would imprison and sentence them, but Alec and Aydan decided they had as much authority as was necessary to handle it. They agreed, and given that the men were from our territory, Aydan had the pleasure of beheading the scum himself, right then and there. He retired when he came home, joined the council shortly after.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly, feeling quite guilty for believing Stefan. I was sure he would feel the same once I told him the truth.
“Anything else?” he asked as the final notes of the song played. “More rumors?”
“Only about supposed bastards and broken engagements,” I joked.
