“I thought you liked being in the thick of things?” She spun, planting a kiss on his jaw.
“Oh, I do.” His lips found hers momentarily before they exited the washroom. “I just don’t like being in charge. I much prefer supporting roles. Like with my friends and their secret writing careers. I had a long tenure acting as spokesman. Thrilling stuff, in its own way.”
“Yourfriends?” George glanced over her shoulder as she walked into her closet.
“They wish to remain anonymous,” he replied cheekily.
She chuckled, pulling out her new Selwassan stays. They’d be perfect under her regalia, nice and supportive. “It’s that Lord Kahoth and his wife, isn’t it?”
“Nesrina has a name, too. And I’mnotsaying.”
George shook her head and stepped in front of him so he could lace her up. She could do it herself, of course, but it wasn’t half as much fun. “Who else but the mysterious, science-minded authorwould want to know which words come from pixies and which come from elves?” She recalled the time he’d been excessively interested in the origin of the wordschtick. That Lord Kahoth was definitely the author whom Isahn supported.
“I’m sure there are at least six of us around Duhra with such an interest.” He helped her get everything situated, then tugged at the ribbons on her stays.
“Fine, keep your secrets.” She chuckled at his words and laughed even harder when her intended shoved his face between her breasts. Shaking his head back and forth, he declared them perfect, then declared her, as a whole,moreperfect.
Georgetta dressed in a tunic, so she’d be presentable for guests. It was atogatype of day, not one for wearing astola. The pomp and circumstance, the literal ceremony, necessitated it. And she had a meeting, anyway.
Her friends would arrive in the coming hours for their usual pre-event get-together. Wynnie would wrap George’stoga, pin up her hair, and make her look queenly for the people—her people. It was a wonderful thing, to be surrounded by so many loved ones. She thanked the goddesses, Appia, Lellin, and Ahninia, for it, every day.
“I’m sorry you can’t be Lord Kahoth and Lady Kiappa’s spokesman any longer. I feel guilty for keeping you from your friends and family, your country, your home.”
“Land,” he corrected. “Homeland.Homeis with you, wherever life takes us.” Isahn hugged her gently to his chest, and that hopeful comfort leapt from his heart to hers, radiating out from the center of her soul. “I’ll see them all in the autumn anyway.”
“For your coronation.” She pulled back to look him in the eye.
“Well,that... and you know... there’s our far more exciting handfasting.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting your friends and your sister and the King of Selwas. I wish Queen Hevva could come too, of course.”
“Of course, but someone has to run the kingdom.” He grinned, kissing her on the nose, the lips, the neck. As Isahn’s mouth traveled south, his hands scouted ahead.
“Ah, ah, ah. We don’t have time for this,” George protested as she grasped him by the upper arms and eased him away.
“Please? We can make time.”
“No.”
He pouted. “Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
He squeezed her bottom and kissed her soundly before his lips tickled her earlobe. “Beciss,” he whispered.
Georgehadtakenanold salon on the palace’s main floor and turned it into a temporarytablinium.She needed somewhere new to meet with her subjects, and she was having the king’s old office gutted and rebuilt—along with many other rooms that held horrid memories. It was a great way to start anew and a fantastic opportunity to pay the former enslaved mages and fae for their time and effort.
Sitting behind her mother’s old desk, she traced her fingertip over the inlaid birds and leaves on top. It was pixie-made, Ean claimed—and she didn’t doubt it. They were remarkable people.
“You know you’re all free to go whenever you’d like,” George reiterated to the women seated—and standing—before her. “I’ll provide funds, references, anything you need to get back on your feet.”
“And what if we’d like to stay?” Helena asked, her voice clear and her head high as she sat across from Georgie with her palms folded on her lap.
“Then stay. We’d love nothing more than to have you here in Hepikoru. If you’d like to stay on at the palace, as paid staff, you can, and you can quit your post and leave at any time. No one owns you now.”
“I’d like that,” Helena agreed.
“What about—” A woman by the door, one who had been too timid to step forward, cut herself off and snapped her gaze to the mosaics as she fiddled with her magenta belt.
