Having them all so readily on board was a weight off my shoulders. I also considered myself lucky to have so many experts willing to handle the many, many projects I had going on. That would also save us manpower in the long run.
I chatted with my new family over dinner and saw their tension with me start to ease. We weren’t on casual terms with each other yet, but that would take time. Still, this was a very good start to a relationship that would last our lifetimes.
All in all, I couldn’t be more pleased.
Seventy-one
Edwin
When we’d made the oh-so-easy decision of when the coronation-slash-wedding ceremony should be, we’d overlooked a teensy little law. Unless death or treason was involved, the previous monarch had to be at the ceremony in order to physically hand the crown over. Otherwise, it was viewed as a usurpation.
It didn’t matter that Patrick had already signed everything over and the ceremony was just for show. He had to be there, otherwise we’d be breaking the law and inviting nothing but trouble on our heads later. Which meant we had to either allow Patrick at the very least to linger for the months it took to put a ceremony together, or I had a week to plan.
Which really meant I had a week.
The fanciness of the ceremony didn’t matter. James and I weren’t set on having a big party anyway. What did matter was getting Patrick and Beatrice out of here before they rethought the whole agreement and tried to cause trouble. Let’s face it, no one believed them to be people of their words.
Well, Patrick had been behaving and quietly packing. Beatrice was the real problem, but if Patrick was allowed to stay longer, she’d use it as an excuse to stay longer, and just no.
Which was why I now sat in a room with three very important people. Judge Galbraith, because I needed him on hand to know what legally had to be included in the ceremony. He was the only one who’d been around for the crowning of (now three) kings, so he was vital. Also with me at the table was Phoebe Kitchingham, Lady of Ceremonies—basically the woman in charge of organizing every single event the palace had, from the garden tea parties to the grand events like weddings. Lady Phoebe had been in her position for twenty years or more, and I got along well with her. Fortunately. Otherwise, she might have murdered me for handing her a dual event like this with only a week to plan.
Her grey eyes kept cutting to me, and she also kept smoothing a lock of brown hair from her face as if contemplating murder anyway.
Perhaps I should send her a fabulous gift later to soothe some of her ire.
Also with me was Zona Maitland, Matriarch of Society. It was and wasn’t a formal position—one of those odd things where society as a whole gravitated to a woman of standing, someone with an irreproachable reputation, who was deemed astheperson who knew the most about society and fashion, and who often had a hand in most of the matches of the season. Marchioness Maitland was a little young for the part, being only forty years old, but she’d held her position now for three seasons and was quite skilled.
It may have had something to do with her stately looks. She wasn’t a soft beauty, more striking with her high brow and oval face, and her jet-black hair was always in an updo that framed her face. She inspired trust and confidence just sitting there andwas a very approachable person, always ready to listen and lend some advice.
I looked at these three people and felt like as long as they were on my side, this wasn’t an impossible task. Difficult? Yes. Impossible? No.
“Thank you, all three of you, for coming to help me. I am admittedly out of my depth.”
Marchioness Maitland inclined her head toward me before lifting her teacup. “I’m pleased to help in whatever way I can. Before we dive in, I must say, Queen Beatrice has been trying very hard to worm her way into these two celebrations. A last hurrah is how she puts it.”
I grimaced. Of course. I wasn’t even surprised.
“I’ve calmly set her down a few times, but she’s very agitated and insistent. Fair warning. I’ve also been hearing the wildest rumors, so may I have the story ofhowyour ascension came about?”
“You’ll need it just to squash the more outlandish rumors, and I certainly don’t mind,” I said. “Very long story short, James and I have been courting now for months.”
From the way her eyes narrowed, this wasn’t news to her, but she was intrigued to have it confirmed.
“James was very set onnotbecoming king. He didn’t want the throne and was quite vocal about it. Unfortunately, as we all know, the ones who want to be on the throne shouldn’t have it, and the others weren’t interested. So, King Patrick and Queen Beatrice made a pact with James to get him to agree. They signed over all authority and power to him, agreed to leave within a week and a half’s time, and also agreed to not meddle in their children’s lives after they left the capital. James got all of this in writing. The second he had all powers transferred to him, he promptly married me.”
Now, that part did surprise her, and she sat back with a huff. “Then you are, for all intents and purposes, a king yourself.”
“I am. Which is why the crowning ceremony must include me as well.”
Judge Galbraith stirred in his chair and eyed Marchioness Maitland. “My lady, I realize you don’t know Edwin—forgive me, King Edwin—as well as I or Lady Kitchingham do. But marrying him was the smartest move King James could have possibly made.”
“You’re making me blush, sir,” I muttered, hiding behind my teacup.
“Nonsense. You’ve been in this palace for fifteen years. You are both dependable in your work and know all the players. If, gods forbid, anything happened to your husband, the country would be in good hands.” Judge Galbraith gave me an approving nod before turning back to the ladies. “Which was why I married them.”
Marchioness Maitland spluttered, “Youmarried them?”
“Well, who else could do it? I married two kings, after all.”
