queen also has another gift for you—or rather, an offer.”
“Oh?” I asked carefully. The gentry loved wheeling and dealing, and I wasn’t surprised that a gift and offer of friendship would come with strings attached.
Ilania nodded. “My queen knows of your ... situation.” She gave my stomach a not-so-subtle look, just in case there was any question about what my “situation” was. “As the ruler of many kingdoms, Queen Varia has no interest in the prophecy or any stake in conquering other—”
“Wait,” I interrupted. “Did you say she rules other kingdoms? How many is she bound to?” Gaining control of a kingdom in the Otherworld was no small thing. A binding took place between the monarch and the land itself, one that required considerable strength on the ruler’s part. It was such a great feat, in fact, that no other monarch besides me had been able to pull it off in recent history. At least, that’s what I’d been told. Discovering someone who ruled an additional kingdom—multiple ones, allegedly—was huge.
“She isn’t bound to them, not exactly,” explained Ilania. “Rather, she rules them. Their own monarchs have agreed to become subject kingdoms to her. So, technically, those monarchs are bound to the land, but they happily acknowledge Varia as their high queen.”
I glanced over at Jasmine. She looked just as surprised as I felt. I’d never heard of anything like this, a kingdom willingly subjugating itself to another. The Yew Land and its neighbors were far away from my own, so it wasn’t entirely surprising that this hadn’t reached me before. Still, it was odd.
Ilania seemed to take our stunned silence for awe. “With so many allies around her, my queen’s territory is vast and safe. We know that you’re under constant threat here—even in your own kingdom.” She paused to allow a couple of soldiers to pass us, proving her point. “My queen would like to extend her hospitality to you and provide a haven in which you can safely have your children. And, in fact, if you so desired, they would be welcome to stay there afterward as long as you wished. My queen’s forces and power would ensure no harm befalls them, as would the distance from your enemies.”
It was true that my greatest adversaries were, unfortunately, also my close neighbors. I didn’t like the rest of her implications, though. Ilania was essentially saying that my own resources weren’t enough to keep me and the twins safe but that her overlord queen could.
“Why would she offer this?” I asked, again suspicious of any gentry kindness.
“My queen is also a mother and is appalled to see these constant attacks on you and the unborn. She finds them cowardly and wrong.” Ilania smiled sweetly. “And, as I was saying, my lady is well content with her own lands. She has no interest in the prophecy and its promise of conquering the human world. She is, however, interested in maintaining friendly relations with another woman possessed of power and command. It’s very dreary for her, having so few equals to talk to.”
“I can imagine,” I muttered. Around us, harried servants were trying to organize the assembled throng into some type of order. “Look, things are about to get started, so I have to take my place. Send my thanks back to your queen, but tell her I’m happy to stay where I’m at for now. We’ve done a pretty good job at keeping me safe so far.” Ohio adventures aside.
Ilania curtsied again. “As you wish, Your Majesty. My lady urged me to tell you, should that be your answer, that her offer will still stand if you change your mind.”
I reiterated my thanks and then hurried off with Jasmine toward the front of the crowd. “That was weird,” Jasmine remarked.
“The offer, not so much,” I said. “Everyone’s always maneuvering for position around here. But that stuff about other kingdoms?
I had no time to ponder the Yew Land further because once things got going, they were going. As the presiding monarch here, I had a front-row spot. Dorian stood near me, both because of his rank and connection to the couple. They’d originally been in his service and had come to mine when I’d seized control of the Thorn Land. Other monarchs were arranged accordingly in a complex system of status that I didn’t entirely follow but which wedding planners had been agonizing over for weeks. Jasmine, as my relative but not a reigning monarch, was a couple rows away. Beside me, Dorian gave me one of his rogue smiles, and it was hard not to smile back. Whatever animosity existed between us, it was easy to put aside for this occasion, particularly since almost a week had passed since our fight over Ohio. Besides, if anyone was going to be able to give me answers about the Yew Land and its subjugated kingdoms, it would be Dorian.
Gentry religion was never anything I’d managed to get much of a grasp on, particularly since my hold on human religion was already pretty loose. From what I’d learned, gentry beliefs were polytheistic and nature- oriented, with specific practices and doctrine that varied widely by region. A priest of some sort was presiding today, but I’d been told he was mostly there to lend authority as a witness and officiant and that religion would have little role in the ceremony.
Another gentry custom was made apparent as soon as the couple appeared. There was no giving-away of the bride, nor did she even walk the aisle alone. Shaya and Rurik walked together through the crowd, hand in hand, making their way to the arch of roses as equals. Few gentry even bothered with weddings, but those who did regarded them—rightfully—as occasions of great joy and didn’t believe white was an appropriately cheerful color. So, Shaya wore a silk gown of deep rosy pink and had given up her usual braids to wear her long black hair loose down her back. It contrasted dramatically with Rurik’s pale, blond features, but their expressions of happiness were a perfect match.
The ceremony was as short and sweet as I’d been told it would be, mostly a recitation of the couple’s commitment to each other. The two of them getting together was still kind of incredible to me, seeing as they were so different. Shaya was always reserved and responsible. Rurik was arrogant and crude. Yet, somehow, they’d made it work and reached this point.
“Why, Eugenie,” said Dorian, once the vows were complete and the crowd had erupted into cheers, “are you tearing up? I never took you for the sentimental type.”
“No,” I snapped, running a hasty hand across my eyes. “It’s just hormones. They make me do stupid things.”
“Right,” he said, in a tone that clearly told me he didn’t believe me at all.
“Your Majesties.”
Shaya and Rurik stood before us, bowing low. Custom dictated that the new husband and wife present themselves to their liege lady before they could go on to their family and friends. They’d kind of rolled Dorian into the deal too since they still regarded him as their ruler to a certain extent. I thought the custom was kind of silly. Why should the couple come to us for a blessing? This was about them. We had nothing to do with it. Still, I’d long since learned not to fight against gentry etiquette and surprised Shaya with a big hug.
“I’m so happy for you,” I said. She had tiny roses tucked into her hair, and their scent surrounded me. The cherry trees had increased their petal production—through magic, no doubt—so that they rained down around us like confetti. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she said, flushing under the praise.
To the surprise of both of us, I hugged Rurik too. “I’m even happy for you. Though I’m not entirely sure you deserve her,” I teased.
He nodded. “That makes two of us.”
“I wish you many years of joy and fertility,” said Dorian, with a genuine expression of pleasure on his face. He always wore a smirk of some sort, so these moments of pure, legitimate delight were rare.
“Are you guys going on any kind of honeymoon?” I asked, realizing it was something I probably should’ve found out long before this. So much emphasis had been put on preparing for the wedding and its security that I’d never really thought much past today. My question was met with three puzzled looks.
“Honeymoon, Your Majesty?” asked Shaya, clearly unfamiliar with the word.
I was surprised by their surprise. “Er, yeah. It’s like a trip ... a trip you take after you get married. You go away somewhere on a vacation, for a week or two.”
“To what end?” asked Dorian with a small, curious frown.
I shrugged. “Well. So you can get away and be alone and ... well ... you know ...”
Understanding flooded their faces. Shaya shook her head. “We’re in wartime, Your Majesty. We could hardly dream of doing anything so frivolous.”
Typical gentry. They had no problem getting hot and heavy in public, but the idea of a private, romantic getaway was “frivolous.”
