‘Hmm, yes, I’ll pass that on,’ Finnikin said. ‘She’s always so appreciative of being told what to do.’

The Provincari returned and when they were all seated, Orlanda of Jidia stayed standing. Not a good sign, Froi thought. If it was good news, De Lancey would have been chosen. Not Orlanda. Froi’s stay in Jidia was disastrous. Lirah had attacked Orlanda; Orlanda had insulted Quintana and Lirah. Gargarin had rejected Orlanda. It couldn’t get much worse.

‘We have many strong young men presented here today,’ Orlanda said over the noise of the room. ‘All with so much to offer us, in what we call … our infancy. For we are infants in many ways and we must choose well.’

She looked back at Quintana.

‘If there is one thing I am certain of … we are all certain of, based on the events of this kingdom during the months before the little King’s birth, it’s that we need to ensure Charyn’s safety. There’s no better way of doing that than to keep the King well taken care of under the guidance of his mother’s consort …’

Her eyes met Froi’s.

‘The Lumateran has already played a great role in Charyn’s peace and will play a greater role in our future.’

There was silence. Froi’s eyes met Quintana’s and then Gargarin’s. He blinked. Once. Twice. And there it was. The moment Lirah spoke of that day in the fortress beyond the little woods. Froi shook his head with wonder. But then he saw Quintana’s face. She was confused. Disbelieving.

‘One moment,’ he called out.

There was an uproar.

‘What? What’s he doing?’ the Nebian Provincaro asked.

‘I would just like to speak to Quintana of Charyn. Can we have a moment or two? Talk amongst yourselves,’ Froi suggested.

He leapt onto the platform and took her hand.

‘What is it?’ she whispered.

‘Do you want this?’

‘What a thing to ask, you fool!’

‘I just want you to feel normal for a moment.’

She shook her head, confused. ‘Normal? Why are you using that word? To taunt me?’

He laughed. Only Quintana would consider being called normal a taunt.

‘Will you be my wife?’

She looked taken aback.

‘You’re asking me?’

‘Well, no one else is.’

They turned back to see the entire room watching them.

‘What are you doing over there?’ the Provincara of Jidia demanded to know. Froi shrugged.

‘I just wanted to ask her to be my wife.’

‘And what say you, Quintana?’ the Provincara of Jidia asked.

‘Well, if the truth be known, I’d very much like him to be my husband,’ Quintana said coolly.

And then everyone was shouting and jostling to surround them and Froi was separated from Quintana, and he found himself embraced by Lord August and Lady Abian and the boys, stunned by how quickly the events had unfolded.

‘We lose you, Froi,’ Talon said. ‘How can we celebrate when we lose you?’

‘You will never, ever lose me,’ he said.

Lord August took him by his shoulders.

‘I’m angry at myself, Froi, because it wasn’t my idea,’ he whispered. ‘It should have been. I should have done this years ago, but I didn’t. It was his. Gargarin of Abroi. In his letter, he wrote that I owed him because of the water system introduced by the Charynites that saved our first crop. He wrote, Give my son a name that will buy him happiness. Have I done that for you, Froi? Is this what you want?’

‘It’s everything I want.’

And then the Charynite lastborns were lifting Quintana on their shoulders and the Lumaterans had Froi on theirs, and she was laughing and he thought he’d never seen her look so beautiful. And over everyone’s head, Froi could see Gargarin and Arjuro staring up at her with their bittersweet smiles, and Froi imagined two boys with the same face all those years ago in a filthy cave beneath the swamps of Abroi, praying for a better life.

Later in the night, Finnikin was there, gripping his arm.

‘We’ll be leaving tonight, Lucian and I, and Perri. We’ve invited the Provincaro of Alonso to travel home with us and Lucian wants to see Rafuel before he leaves. The others will stay.’

Froi nodded, his throat constricting. He wasn’t ready for this so soon. He hadn’t even had a chance to speak to Perri.

‘Come,’ Finnikin said, leading him outside of the great doors. Finnikin retrieved his dagger and a moment later they were surrounded by Scarpo’s men, who were surrounded by Finnikin’s guards, all ready to attack.

‘Sagra!’

‘Mercy!’

‘Go. Away,’ Lucian shooed the guards back.

The three stood alone in the alcove. Finnikin cut into both Froi’s hands and then into one of Lucian’s and finally his own. Froi clasped both their hands.

‘A pledge, with your blood mixed with ours,’ Finnikin said.

Froi nodded, unable to speak.

‘Brothers always. Balthazar is with us, too. We make this work,’ Finnikin said fiercely. ‘We bring peace to these kingdoms. We deserve it. Our women do. All of us have lost too much, Froi. We’ve lost the joy of being children. Let’s not take that from Jasmina and Tariq and those who come after them.’

The three embraced and Froi felt the tremble in their arms and then he followed them to the stables where Perri was waiting for them with their mounts. And it was only then, when Perri gripped a hand to Froi’s shoulder and pressed a kiss to his brow, that Froi wept.

He stayed there a while at the portcullis until he could see nothing more of his friends in the darkness. Behind him, he heard voices, and Gargarin, Arjuro and De Lancey approached with Tariq in Arjuro’s arms.

‘You may need to go inside,’ Arjuro said. ‘She’s surrounded by the Provincari parrots and she has that caged-animal look that’s beginning to frighten everyone.’

Arjuro placed Tariq in Froi’s arms.

‘Tell Lirah we’ll visit with the Lumateran Flatlanders tomorrow,’ Gargarin said quietly. ‘We’ll celebrate amongst ourselves then.’

They watched Arjuro and De Lancey leave and Froi felt awkward alone with Gargarin. He didn’t know what to say. Not after the last furious words he had exchanged with his father. But it was Tariq’s strange little chatter with himself that made them both smile.

‘At least I get to be with Quintana and Tariq,’ Froi said quietly as they returned to the great hall. ‘What will you possibly get out of all of this, Gargarin? You don’t have Lirah. You hold such little power and you’re as much a prisoner here as you were nineteen years ago. It’s like the dead King won.’

Tariq had recognised his name and chortled. It brought a soft smile to Gargarin’s mouth.

‘I get to raise a king, Froi. We all do. We’ll make a good king. And when he comes of age, his shalamar will live with us in the palace because I can’t imagine Tariq wanting it any other way.’

Gargarin reached out a hand and touched Tariq’s face. ‘Your Priestking told me just now that he once dreamt that you would hold the future of Lumatere in your hands. Perhaps Tariq is Lumatere’s future. As a powerful neighbour, he will ensure Lumatere will always be protected. Because regardless of everything, yours is still a small kingdom and any one of us larger kingdoms can crush Lumatere at a moment’s notice.’

Gargarin’s eyes met Froi’s. ‘They know that. It’s why their queen gave you to us. Because she and her consort trust that you can raise a good and powerful leader. That’s how I’ll win against the dead King, Froi. We share a grandson and I’ll live to see him become a great leader.’

Froi remembered what Lirah once told him. Don’t ever underestimate him. He’s the most

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