“Until two days from now, when he’ll acquire in-laws. Nice ones,” Jocasta said, folding her arms.
“It is on this matter that I come. My mother wishes to extend the invitation to your parents, Miss Jocasta, to stay with them in their house in Tundra Springs, the General's Citadel.” He held up his hand and whispered behind it, “It’s much nicer and less like a fortress than it sounds. The head of the Caledonian Command is always given a residence, one of the historic old mansions that surround the Polar Square neighborhood. It would only be a short carriage ride from there to the palace, andonce you two are done with your... your post-wedding respite, they could stay with you in the palace.”
“The queen’s family must have a house in Tundra Springs, too. A residence they can come and stay in at will,” Girion spoke up.
Jocasta made a frantic wave of protest. “Nothing too fancy.”
“It will have to be at least a little fancy.” Girion held out his arms. “We can’t have the Queen’s parents living down some back alley where hoodlums will harass them! What kind of son-in-law will they imagine me to be if I allow such a thing?”
“City youths throwing eggs at windows is nothing compared to a lot of drunken sailors jostling and crashing through the shop. My parents can handle themselves. They won’t be here much. Why buy something expensive?”
“Why not just give them rooms in the palace?” Herrick interjected in his gruff voice.
“They won’t want to stay here, they’ll think they’re imposing,” Jocasta said quickly.
“There are over fifty rooms in the place!” Girion cried.
Cole’s laugh startled them out of their exchange. “Ahh, bickering like an old married couple. It does my heart good. Come, Herrick, let’s leave these two cooing doves alone.”
“I do not coo!” Girion thundered after them.
Jocasta rolled her eyes. “What happens after three days of respite? Aside from the fact that people can bother us again? Specifically, what will I do?”
“I imagine you’ll choose your ladies-in-waiting. They’ll travel with you and sit with you when you have your audiences.”
“Why in the world will people want to have an audience with me?” Jocasta joined him in pacing, walking in the opposite direction so that she was at the window when he was at the door. When they turned, they both looked at one another, and then down or to the side. Anywhere else.
“You will be queen.”
“But they’ll want to ask me things. Have me do something?”
“Usually.”
“Well, I won’t be able to do it!”
“Why not? You’re the Queen of Caledon.”
Jocasta stopped and shook her head suddenly. “I... I don’t know that I am truly able to be that in anything but name,” she admitted, and forced herself to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to let you down.”
Girion hurried over to her, his hands outstretched. “You are simply worried about doing well. I would be troubled if you seemed overeager. You are not. You are being wise and cautious. Considering the pitfalls. If you were not a mage, I would have wanted you to be an advisor, or even a general. Well, with the proper training.”
“There is no training academy for queens, is there?” Jocasta asked with a wan smile.
“Only experience and guidance. Lady Somerlynn is a good advisor, and she and the General like you very much. Listen,” Girion put his massive hands on her shoulders, and then moved one finger under her chin. “You want to help people. You will only help people if the cause is just and if we have the means. If we do not have the means, then you will find them. That is what you do, Jocasta. Jo.”
She closed her eyes for a moment and rested her cheek against his palm. “You truly are Girion the Great. Not just large. Wise. Kind. Patient.”
Girion looked startled. “Don’t tell anyone else,” he whispered.
She nodded, smiling up at him. “I will keep your secrets if you keep mine.”
“It is a bargain. I would have them put it in the vows, but it is implied.”
“The vows! Does royalty have special vows?” Jocasta demanded, stepping back in panic.
Girion looked as if he very much missed the touch of her skin on his. “You don’t have to do anything but repeat what the bishop says. Tomorrow, we’ll rehearse. You’ll have to choose attendants, of course. All the young ladies of noble birth or who have parents of high rank will be at tea today, so you can meet them and select a few—”
“They’re people, not cattle! I can’t just ‘pick out a few’ by looking at them!”
