“I would like that,” Aura admits.
Crystal relaxes, accepting her embrace. “Don’t you dare tell anyone I have a soft side, darling.” She pats her back, pulling away as Calder saunters over.
“You two are awfully chummy.” His hands stuff into his pockets as he tilts his head.
“I would hope so!” Crystal puffs her chest out, offering a prideful glance at Aura. “The Princess has agreed to be my first pupil in centuries.”
Calder doesn’t even act surprised. His lips tug into a rare, wide smile. “Wonderful. I was hoping for another chance at my Trial.”
As the food and drink run low and the fire of the hearth wavers, Aura relaxes on the back terrace, leaning against Calder while he twirls her curls through his fingers. Crystal weaves designs of elementalseidrout of the air while Edmund crouches on the stone wall, smoking his pipe, and Gunni lays his head in Thora’s lap.
“While I have you all here,” Calder gently shifts Aura so he can stand. His joints cracking in the process. She swears he winks at Gunni as he takes the center spot while Crystal settles beside Edmund.
The Princess’ smug smirk grows, Calder having briefed her on his momentous decision sometime between her third and fourth horn of mead.
“My Kingship has been long and arduous already,” he begins.
After the death of Queen Lavinia, it was Jarl Clementia, and, shockingly, Jarl Guy’s sister, the new Jarl of the Crescent Hold, who crowned Calder the de facto King of Skalor in quite possibly the swiftest coronation in history.
“As you all know, my days of leading holds and countries are far behind me. I am ready to settle down.”
Silence answers Calder.
Aura cannot help but think that they all must question what will happen to the Treland and Skalor thrones, with Aura maintaining her path to queenship in her home country and Calder still considered the rightful King of Skalor.
“I need to name an heir to rule the kingdom of Skalor. To raise itfrom the ashes of Lavinia and Makt’s reign.” He looks directly at Thora, who pales as understanding washes over her.
“Thora Sigvidsson-Redwood, I name you my heir should you accept it. I didn’t think anyone could manage control of Kaldrgataness, and I hear you beheaded ten Lavinia supporters in my absence. All while cultivating a mountain of respect from people I frankly hate with every fiber of my being.”
“They’re not that bad.” She mutters.
“What do you say, Lady Commander?”
Rare tears brim her bright green eyes as she does the unthinkable and kneels before Calder. Thora withdraws her dagger and slices her arm before wiping the blood across the blade of her axe, uncannily similar to the Drengr oath. “I accept the crown with honor.”
Gunni watches her with all the adoration and worship the Lady Commander deserves.
“Rise, Thora Sigvidsson-Redwood, Queen of Skalor, Lady Commander of the Drengr.”
She stands straight with a fierce intensity that could only be matched when their father named her Lady Commander of the Drengr.
“I thought you had no interest in Queenship?” Bjorn saunters onto the terrace in his usual crisp black suit. His appearance shatters the moment, as none expected the Prince of Treland to make the trip to Skalor before traveling to Steinlund to assume his mission.
Aura and Thora rush toward him, and the siblings prod and shove each other before settling into a warm embrace.
“There’s something ruggedly untameable about Skalor,” Thora admits to Bjorn. “But, who the fuck is ruling Treland?”
“Uncle Grim.” Bjorn shrugs.
A sigh of defeat comes from the doorway leading to the dining hall. Sigvid’s arms hold Avina against his chest as they watch over everyone. “I guess we will have two countries' worth of Drengr.”
Thora tugs her shoulders back. “Don’t pretend this wasn’t your plan all along, Uncle Sig.”
His only response is to beam at them all in a very rare and genuine gesture.
“What in the Abyss are you going to do, now, Edmund?” Bjorn asks.
The Gothi looks at Calder with a wry smile. “I need someone to pay for my lifestyle. Why not the future Queen of Treland and the Iss Drengr?”
