Dornant glares at his sister. “Just because I have to accept Mother and Father must have had sex at one point doesn’t mean that I need visual reminders.”
“One day, you’ll fall in love, and then I hope you know Father will exact his revenge.”
I grin, imagining it. I’ll embarrass the hell out of him if the day comes that he sets his eyes on anyone.
Vlari reaches us on the dais, but instead of joining us, taking the ornate throne at the center, she turns to face the court.
All fall silent as she raises her hands, palms up.
I frown, confused and on alert. I don’t know of any announcement scheduled for today, of all days. My birthdays are nights of mindless celebrations, much more casual than that of the queen. Hers are political affairs gathering the lords of all of Alfheimr.
“Lords and ladies, kings and queens.” Her crisp voice fills the still room, and the folk silently bow before her. “For one hundred and thirty years, I’ve ruled our land as best as I could. I have weighed your complaints, I have quelled your anger, I have shielded us from our enemies.”
“Praised be the queen!” Titus yells, raising his golden goblet.
He's a frequent visitor now that we've moved to the Old Keep, deep in the Murkwood, so close to the seelie border.
The court echoes him, drinking to Vlari’s health.
She waits for silence before continuing. “What no one has ever said is that I wouldn’t have been able to do any of it without those who stood by my side, now and then. My mother, my father, my friend, my sister.” She turns away from the court, and faces me now. “And you, Rystan.”
She uses my name so sporadically, particularly in public.
“Thirteen decades ago, you reclaimed our country with me. Then, you raised our children, advised me, consoled me on my darkest nights. I may hold the crown, but you’re the pillar of the realm.”
“To King Rystan!” Meda toasts, followed up by the rest of the court.
I grin, accepting their ovation with a bow.
I’m not used to it; my role as Vlari’s consort is to stand in the shadows. I understand how her grandfather ended up resenting it. I don’t. I’m happy taking care of my family. Of Vlari. But Alven never loved the late queen; he was trapped out of the sunlight, condemned to exist in her shadow.
“Today, I considered giving you a spelled cloak, or a pretty ring, or a dagger that turns any heart it pierces to ice.”
My mate has good taste.
“Then I realized you’ve had that and more, these one hundred and thirty birthdays. There’s only one thing left for me to give you.”
She nods at the children seated either side of me. They rise and move to stand next to her, both facing the crowd.
Whatever is going on, they’re part of it, the two traitors.
To my shock and dismay, Vlari gets to her knees and bends her head.
“Nevlaria Bane, High Queen of Tenebris, do you recognize your heir?” Rulla asks, her clear voice as eloquent as her mother’s.
“I recognize my son, Dornant Bane, as my heir.”
We’ve talked of this. I believe Rulla is better suited to politics than Dornant, and Vlari agrees, but our daughter is seelie to the core. She’s always had her eyes to the north. Binding her to Tenebris would be unkind.
Whenever we talked of succession, I imagined it would occur in the future—in hundreds, if not thousands of years. Not now.
I search her eyes. She can’t mean—
“High Queen Nevlaria, do you consent to surrendering the crown?”
“I consent,” she replies, without a moment of hesitation.
Just like that, it’s done. She’s no longer queen. Rulla takes the dark crown on her head, into which the green heart stone of Tenebris has been set, and Vlari rises to face the stunned court. My mother hugs her grandmother. The folk murmur amongst themselves, as stunned as I.
