I can hardly form the words through bursts of laughter. “A glimpse at your magnificent kingdom.”
22
Aspen has regained his composure by the time we meet in the atrium. The only thing that betrays him is the embarrassed smile that continues to tug at his lips, and when he winks at me, part of me considers pulling him up the stairs to lock ourselves in the bedroom.
The thought doesn’t linger long before Breeda soars into the atrium and hovers between us. “Everyone is here!” she squeals. “They’re waiting in the courtyard for you to greet them.”
“Fehr won’t give permission for any to enter without your word,” Lorelei adds, approaching from the hall that leads to the palace entrance. Foxglove follows just a step behind, cheeks crimson as he adjusts his spectacles, clearly avoiding Aspen’s gaze.
My heart sinks as we close the distance between us and the ambassadors, and I’m worried that the awkwardness between my mate and Foxglove might not be easily undone.
“They’re just outside,” Lorelei says with an easy grin, oblivious to the tension. “Aspen’s household too.” She waves a hand forward, then pauses as if she’s reconsidering her actions. Pursing her lips, her eyes flick to mine before she bends into a humble bow, arm extended for me to pass ahead of her.
Some of the day’s mirth is stripped away from me at the sight, reminding me of the conversation we had yesterday. Instead of walking in front of her, however, I link my arm through hers. “Let’s go.”
Her eyes widen with surprise, but her lips pull into a grin. As we make our way down the hall, I hazard a glance behind me. Foxglove’s neck is nearly swallowed by his shoulders as he shuffles at Aspen’s side. My mate glances from me to Foxglove, then gives a resigned shake of his head. Slinging his arm over the ambassador’s shoulders, he gives him a cajoling smile. “Did you like what you saw, my friend?”
Foxglove blushes deeper, eyes flicking up at Aspen as a grin stretches across his face. “I think it would be a treasonous lie to say I didn’t, Your Majesty.”
Aspen barks a laugh.
Foxglove’s gaze meets mine and he lifts his brows, the tension seeming to melt from him as his shoulders relax. “Queen Evelyn certainly is a lucky lover.”
Aspen squeezes the ambassador to his side. “As are yours, Foxglove.”
Content that the awkward rift has been smoothed over, I return my gaze straight ahead.
“What was that about?” Lorelei whispers.
“I’ll tell you later,” I say under my breath, stifling my giggle. “If Foxglove doesn’t tell you first.”
* * *
Outside,the courtyard is filled with fae too numerous to count. All of Aspen’s refugees that had escaped Bircharbor are here, as are most of the fire fae from Lunar. Dragons dart across the sky, wisps bob in clusters, kitsune explore the paths and plants, and an entire family of the crustacean-mushroom fae settle in by one of the rectangular ponds. I catch sight of Dune amongst the crowd, tapping anxiously from paw to paw as he barks directions at some of his comrades, clearly trying to maintain order over his traveling companions. But the fae seem too relieved to have arrived at their destination to pay him much heed, as they continue to flit about the courtyard, awed by what they see.
Fehr watches them all through slitted lids, bronze arms crossed over his chest. “Do you approve of their presence here, my queen?”
I find myself momentarily taken aback. That’s the first time he’s ever referred to me asmy queen, and not just Your Majesty. “I do, Fehr. Any who seek shelter indoors may also be permitted inside the palace. Those who would like to apply for positions within the palace may take it up with you and Lorelei. Same goes for all of my mate’s household. All of his people will need rooms and positions in the palace.”
He nods. “It will be done.”
I scan the crowd again, which has begun to quiet now that most have noticed my presence. Then silence falls completely, and the fae—both Aspen’s and mine—lower into bows. Our names are uttered, creating a wave of sound before they rise.
A tiny figure with brown skin hobbles toward us. “I hope you are still in need of a healer,” Gildmar says.
Aspen and I make our way down the stairs to greet her. “Of course,” Aspen says.
“You and all of Aspen’s household are welcome here,” I add, “and will be given appropriate positions.”
She looks from me to my mate. “What will happen, Your Majesty, when you defeat Cobalt? Will you rule from Irridae together or reclaim Bircharbor?”
We exchange a glance, neither knowing how to answer. That’s something we’ve hardly discussed. “We have two wars to win,” Aspen says. “Only then will we finalize such plans.”
Gildmar nods, her smile wide.
“Evelyn!” A familiar voice steals my attention as a human girl comes charging up the stairs. Marie Coleman, dressed in trousers and a linen tunic, stumbles into a last-minute curtsey before taking my hands in hers, a dreamy look falling over her face as she gives an exaggerated sigh. “Your palace is more beautiful than anything I’ve seen so far.”
I stare at her, blinking rapidly before I find my voice. “Thank you, Marie, but…what are you doing here?”
