“We did it!” she enthused. “That was... Oh, Girion. Did you mean it? All of it?”
“Absolutely!”
“Even about— Well, never mind, if you said you meant it, I know you meant it. I... I’m not sure if the vows I made—about love, you know—are something I’m very good at, or sure of. Notbecause I don’t want to, but because it’s new. You hear about girls saying they love a man within just days of meeting, and I always thought them to be fools at best.”
“You don’t have to love me, Jocasta. Not yet, or not at all. Allies are loyal, and that is enough.”
“No, but I want—”
What she wanted was blown away by an impromptu band springing up alongside the carriage, with loud drums and horns, playing Caledon’s royal anthem beside them, marching with them all the way to the palace, the din so loud that all she could do was smile and hold her husband’s hand.
THE REST OF THE DAYfelt truly celebratory, with Jocasta and Girion ensconced on their thrones, sitting and receiving guests between feasting and singing. Early in the evening, word came that the delegation to the northern hills had been successful in rescuing the stranded travelers, and another message came from a mayor at a town halfway between Tundra Springs and Port Hebron that they observed the hot springs beginning to trickle out towards Port Hebron after weeks of it drying up and freezing over. Girion read the messages out loud and raised his glass to her, toasting “My beautiful and powerful wife and queen, the jewel of Caledon.”
She had been living in the palace for a week and a half, and it was the first time she truly felt like she belonged.
“Darling?” Her mother was at her side, flushed with excitement, food, and wine, her eyes alight with excitement. “Girion said that Lady Somerlynn will help us hunt for a house this week. Something near their neighborhood, and he also gave us a carriage, a little one, and two horses for when we are in town, and says that they can be stabled here. He is so generous.”
“He is.”
“And you are so helpful. You will be good and not argue with him?”
Jocasta rolled her eyes. “Mother, I’m his queen, not someone he has to mind for the afternoon while you’re out doing the marketing.”
“Well, try to be pleasant. You two look like you’re very fond of one another already.”
“We are.”
“Good. Then go and kiss your father so we can leave. He’s had too much wine, and he’s starting to sing.”
“Oh, no.” Jocasta rose, hurriedly, and Girion rose as well, alarm on his face.
“What?” he demanded in a hiss, following her.
“My father is getting beyond himself with all this wine and mead. He’s going to start singing soon.”
“All right, lads! Who knows ‘A Sailor’s Lass Will Give You The Biggest Wave’?” Mr. Waterman demanded.
“Oh, no.” Girion quickened his steps. “Father-in-law! Let me take you to the steward so you can take a bottle of that mead you like so much home with you.”
“He’s a good one, dear. You’ve done—hic—very well for yourself!” Mr. Waterman gave a clumsy bow to Girion, then hugged Jocasta heartily.
Cole came up behind them as they were herding her father to the door of the banquet hall and whispered, “This might be the best time to make your escape, sire, my queen.”
“Oh, is that what you have to call me now?” Jocasta blinked, startled.
“Or ‘Your Majesty.’ Or just ‘Majesty.’ Whatever you prefer.”
“I prefer Jocasta, but that’s unlikely.”
“We’ll head up the backstairs, Cole. Thank your parents for keeping everyone entertained until they weary of all the free food and drink.”
“Of course, sire. Have a pleasant evening.”
Jocasta let Girion take her arm and lead her through passageways and then up the narrow winding stairways until they were once again in their own hall.
She began, “We—”
As Girion asked, “Would—”
