His mother’s deathbed.
“You’re thinking of your mother. I can always tell. Oh, by the frost, you haven’t gone mad, have you? Become the kind of fellow who is looking for a woman to make over into the image of his mother? Idolizing her and constantly sniping at his poor wife that she’s not doing it the way mummy did?”
“Bite your tongue.”
“I had to ask. You made that remark about your mother’s clothes.”
“Because in my estimation, my mother was the finest queen Caledon ever had, and the people need to be reminded of her. They will see that in Jocasta... I have faith in Jocasta. I just do. A feeling. She is Caledonian, through and through, with the way she fought to keep her family going, how she perseveres in grief, how she refuses to bow to sadness and hardship. She is made for a land where the strongest rule.”
“And yet she’s a soft little human.”
“The inside, Cole.”
“Soft inside, too, I would imagine.”
Girion wasn’t even aware that he had punched his friend square in the mouth until a spurt of blood landed on the floor and Cole crashed backwards to the ground, moaning and holding his face.
“I had it coming,” he said in a thickened voice, rubbing his jaw.
“You surely did.”
“Are you ever going to tell me why you hated Ciria so much?”
Girion winced at the mention of his stepmother, the usurper, the closest thing Caledon had ever had to a spoiled brat on the throne. “Don’t let that name enter these chambers again, Cole. It defiles them.” He picked his friend up and sighed at the burst lip and the blood flowing from it. “Pay a call to Jocasta. I imagine she can repair you.”
“Might even make me prettier—if that’s possible.”
They shared a rueful chuckle. “I have my doubts,” Girion said with a roll of his eyes.
“But back to the avalanche waiting to fall, sire. Dressing her in the Queen’s old clothes is a nice gesture for the people, away to force an association with a great ruler and their new, unexpected one.”
“Well, I hope so.”And it is an honor to Jocasta. A way of showing I think my parents would have liked her. It’s the best I can do since they’re gone.
“Maybe you know more of the mental warfare strategy than people give you credit for.”
“Perhaps.”
“You won’t answer my question, will you?”
“About my father’s greatest mistake and the witch that almost ruined our kingdom? No, I won’t. My father did not believe me, Cole,” he said heavily. “My own father.”
“He was in love with her.”
“He was inlustwith her. Lonely, cold, and desperate.”Like me.“Lust gives a woman power. And if she convinces him that such a thing is really love, the power doubles. Jocasta and I will take pains to remain equal to one another.”
“I’d believe you, Gir.” Cole patted his back.
Girion sighed. He had a wonderful friend in Cole. A friend he shouldn’t have punched. “I know. I still don’t wish to speak of it. Not now. Perhaps never. Now, go. Go to Jocasta and see if she can fix you.”
“I think I’ll wait until Herrick says the room has emptied a bit. I’ll need a convincing story. I don’t want to say that her future husband batters his friends and loyal retainers.”
“Say we sparred, and I had the advantage of surprise.”
“That should work. Good night, sire. Are you... Are you more at ease than you were a few days ago?” Cole asked the last bit tentatively.
Girion nodded. A few days ago, he could picture the kingdom becoming desolate, losing their trade agreements, commerce halting, people fleeing to Wyndwood, or worse, the SpringKingdoms. He pictured himself as son-in-law to Archduke Reynard, yoked to that sneering, simpering vixen, Renata.
Now... “I am much relieved in my mind.”
