Gen blinks awake and sits up, her nightdress cascading in silky folds around her. “Gabe? Why do you keep showing up uninvited?” she asks, sleep still clinging to her voice.
“Good question. Why doIkeep having to be the one to break major news to you? Mother abdicated the crown early this morning. Father thought to wake you, but I suspected this was what he’d walk in on, so I convinced them to give you another two hours and let me come wake you. She’s abdicating and leaving for Sullard Castle—the horribly drafty one in the south? Father is joining her, but I believe the council would like to see their new queen and confer on what’s to be done about Mari.”
“Yes, of course. Tell them we’ll be down in thirty minutes,” Gen replies. Gabe bows and turns to leave. At the door he glances back. “You both deserve this, you know—after everything you’ve been put through. And don’t make a fuss about what I suggest in there today.”
He shuts the door, and Gen sinks down against my chest. “Oh, so it begins. We’re going to need an extended honeymoon once we sort everything out—just to have a few more moments of quiet.”
I trace the graceful length of her spine. “You’ve only seen one of my homes. I have two more to show you, plus a proper tour of the railway—and, of course, our own train car.”
She tilts her head up to meet my eyes. “Sounds like a lovely way for you to work on our honeymoon. No, I think we should escape to the coast. Just the two of us and no distractions.”
“Perfect,” I murmur, pressing my lips to hers.
Another knock interrupts us, but Gen calls for them to enter. Two servants step in, carrying clothing for both of us. They bow low. “Your Majesty. Mr. Blackwell—er, Greenbluff. We’re here to prepare you for the council meeting.”
The man ushers me into an adjoining suite I never knew existed and begins preening me for the meeting.
With surprising efficiency, we’re both ready and leaving the suite before anyone else can come looking for us. Gen wears a tightly corseted gown of fine lace over a satin underlay. The fabric is a deep forest green—the color of Naseria. A delicate diadem sits atop her head, hardly a crown but enough to give her a regal air.
“Are you sure you want this life?” she asks, giving my hand a squeeze through the silk of her glove. I wish I could pluck the fabric from her fingers, let her soft hands intertwine with mine, but I understand why she chooses to wear gloves in public.
“I want nothing more than a life with you, Gen. Don’t question it again.” She gives me a satisfied smile, my certainty clearly lighting her from within.
As we enter the chamber, the entire council rises and bows with shouts of “Long live the queen!” echoing through the room.
Gen signals smoothly for them to sit and takes her place at the head of the long table. But I notice the slight shake in her hand, the gooseflesh along her exposed neck. She speaks with confidence, but Ican see her pushing down her nerves. That bit of fear won’t stop Gen. If anything, she’ll use it as fuel to make herself steadier, more confident as a ruler.
Her siblings are all present, along with Queen Kalise and Prince Leland. The cheers and smiles on their faces tell me everything I need to know about their loyalty to her. Even Gabe looks proud.
Missing from the room—though unsurprising—are Queen Penelope and King Hugo. By now they’ll be making exile-bound departure. And if I never see them again, all the better. Queen Penelope deserves worse. She deserves the fate she dealt my father. But I know even a monarch who commits egregious wrongs rarely faces the consequences.
“Your Majesty, may we congratulate you on the smooth transfer of power?” an older man says to Gen. She gives him a wry smile.
“I do not yet wear the crown, Lord Fenweir. When I do, I’ll accept congratulations. For now, tell me what has been decided concerning Queen Penelope and King Hugo.”
The man clears his throat in a truly ghastly manner. Even I, who was never a well-bred blueblood, know better than to make those sounds in public. Perhaps he has some sort of ailment?
“The queen and king are to leave immediately, as per our agreement this morning. She has been sentenced to exile for endangering the country and for misuse of helachite. She seems willing to go peacefully—more resolute than any of us would have expected under the circumstances.”
Gen nods, a seriousness settling over her that makes her seem all the more stately. She’s already stepping into the role, and pride swells in my heart that I get to witness this incredible woman rise into her reign. Not only witness it—but be by her side, day in and day out.
“There’s still the matter of Princess Marielle to discuss,” Lord Fenweir adds. “There is interest in seeing her tried, but I wished to leave the decision to you, Queen Genevieve.”
Gen answers without hesitation, her tone allowing no room for dispute. “If Queen Penelope is allowed exile over a trial, then the same will be granted to Princess Marielle. However, I want her to decidewhere she would like to go. I will not force her to remain with the woman who caused her so much pain.”
A few councilors exchange glances, clearly disagreeing, but none voice their dissent.
“If there’s no objection,” Gen continues, “then I’d like to address the issue of my marriage. As you know, Prince Leland and I have amicably decided not to pursue an alliance between our countries through marriage.”
She smiles at Leland, and he returns the gesture. Relief washes through me that they’re able to move forward as allies and friends. If not for their cooperation, I might not have survived my trial at all.
One of the councilors stands, addressing both royals. “We would like the two of you to reconsider. Think of the power our two nations could command with a strong alliance. Only marriage can forge a bond that close.”
Gen looks at me with a reassuring smile as she removes her glove before the council and slides her bare hand into mine. They all know what her touch can cause—the expressions on their faces make that clear—but we keep our composure.
“I will wed Mr. Kieran Greenbluff, also known as Mr. Morris Blackwell, tomorrow. He and I share an enduring fondness that will not be separated now. Are there any questions or objections?”
Surprisingly, Gabe stands, and my first instinct is to pummel the idiot for every doubt he’s ever cast on us.
