“Fantastic. As always.” The omega had come back to Liaberos with his mate the month before and had asked to become palace staff. Seidrik had readily agreed and given him a title and everything just to spite his family and his former husband. They’d have all the more reason to be disgusted in the future, as Morda was actively planning starting a family with his mate, who had signed on to the palace guard.
“Good to hear.” Seidrik huffed as Morda tightened his belt and tugged at his hair, combing it into place. Croatens was one of the few nations that had an active fashion and esthetics industry, and Morda had apprenticed for a short time as a hairdresser and done spectacularly.
Once dressed, Stamel swept in and handed Tyran off to Morda, who was honestly becoming morevaluable by the day. As long as it was within his hours, he did anything asked.
When they exited the castle, the city was in an uproar of glory. The country’s flag flew high with pride for the first time in as long as Seidrik could remember.
His advisors wanted him to speak and address the people. Make some grandiose statement after a half-hour sermon like Alluin did, but Seidrik didn’t think that was necessary. The people wanted to know what was coming and going—beyond that, as long as their needs were met, they wanted regency and government to stay out of it.
Guards flanked them as they strode to an open-top carriage and strolled the streets. Money had not been spared for the event, the coffers overflowing from Alluin’s dragon-like hoard.
The clatter of elk hooves drove the carriage forward, jostling them merrily as Tyran and Kimbel watched the crows run by.
“Da, that omega’s not wearing any pants.” Kimbel stared out, eyes wide. Seidrik cut his gaze to witness a young omega male running about in leisure shorts, bare chested with the Liaberian crest painted across his chest.
“Yep.” Stamel grinned as youth played in the streets, people flew overhead, insect wings in a myriad of formations fluttering, zipping, and clattering along. The alphas weren’t celebrating as hard, but a few were, flying openly with omega children or mates in celebration. Those that weren’t happy with the development were given ample opportunity to complain at public forums in the time leading up to it. It turned out, those that had issues with it were few but vocal. And given a quiet conversation with Stamel over it? They suddenly got over it very quickly.
A shop window for a leatherworking facility had a painted sign statingomegas in the home, not on the throne.
Seidrik largely ignored it until a few young omegas ran by lobbing eggs at it. A grumpy-looking beta behind the window scowled out at the moving crowd. If it were Alluin, people opposing his edicts would be afraid.
“Aren’t you going to stop him?” Kimbel stared at the scene as they went by.
“I prefer it when people are allowed to advertise their untrustworthiness. I don’t have to search for hidden things. So, when the castle looks for leather, we will look elsewhere.” Seidrik smiled and waved. “But for now, he’s free to his opinions as I am free to mine.”
Every few blocks, people stood in groups around vendors with food and people playing instruments, music in the open like Alluin haddespised.
When they reached the town square, the open market had a stage erected, and together, they climbed from the carriage and walked the stairs to address the people. Not many had gathered, as the celebrations had spread far and wide, but plenty celebrated.
The crowd quieted as they waved and Seidrik spoke up. “We celebrate today a new age. We are free now more so than ever. We are free from taxing the ordinary working citizens. Vitalis is the property of the people, and as such, it will support the country in lieu of the people.”
People cheered, some waved, and others stood there grinning as if their whole world had changed.
Seidrik spoke of poverty being a thing of the past, of a new world where business would boom on the thalmway, with connection and communication centers due with the telecon, and eventually the mines from the impoverished southern borders would berevived, as transporting their minerals would be possible via the thalmway. People would prosper.
Standing and shouting wore Seidrik out fast and he took a seat back in the carriage, riding about the city to visit vendors and partake of foods that Alluin had never allowed him to eat. He stayed so hungry, but with their growing child, there was little room for food. But everything tasted so good.
Stamel thought it most amusing, beaming from ear to ear.
When they finished their rounds of the celebrating city, they retired to his sitting room, cooling off from their heated journey. Kimbel and Tyran sat patiently as Seidrik hefted himself up and went to their bedchambers. “I have something for you two.”
They watched with interest as Seidrik returned with an envelope for each of them. Tyran opened his first and offered it to Stamel to read. Kimbel read his own with a soft smile.
“I’ve been made a duke?” Kimbel stared up with wide eyes.
“I cannot make you a prince. The line of Liaberos is chosen by the goddesses for our blood, but you bear noble lineage. So, I have decided to permit you noble status, and I have adopted you in name. Whether you choose to acknowledge me as your father or not is up to you, but the goddesses have spoken and told tales of your future. You are loved and I wish you to know that.” Seidrik beamed.
Kimbel smiled, his eyes watering. “I am most grateful, Father. Da. I feel honored.”
Stamel, for his part, nodded as he read Tyran’s letter, declaring him a marquis. As his bloodline was not of royalty, and not blessed by the goddesses, he still deserved nobility and station that would earn him the right to marry into a higher house. Stamel gave Tyran a squeeze. “And he has adopted you, too, as hisward and son of heart in the eyes of our lady goddesses.”
Tyran stared at the paper, mouthing words to sound them out. “Does that mean Seidrik still gets to read me stories?”
“It does. And it also means the prince will be your brother.” Seidrik smiled and Tyran jumped from Stamel’s lap with a grin.
“So he can be my papa, too?” Tyran nearly vibrated with glee.
“Only if you like.” Seidrik opened his arms and huffed, the breath punching free of him as the little one jumped into his lap for a hug. And before the hug parted, he slid down to hug Seidrik’s belly, laughing.
