“Do you think they’ll likeme?”
And there it was. The real question. The heart of her concern.
I opened my mouth to brush it off, to say something flippant like, “Who cares?” or “It doesn’t matter what they think.” Because to me, it didn’t. I saw my mother a handful of times a year, exchanged brief messages even less frequently. Her approval or disapproval of my beloved wouldn’t change a damn thing about howIfelt.
But looking at Seri’s face—open, hopeful, so earnest it made my chest ache—I realized this mattered toher. Of course it did.
“Queen Doria and Caelyr aren’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type,” Koa jumped in as my tongue did that sock of bees thing again. “They’re reserved. Formal. But they respect strength, courage, and intelligence. All qualities you have in abundance, beloved.”
“Exactly.” Cas sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “My guess is that they’re curious about the woman who bonded with all three of us. That alone makes you remarkable in their eyes.”
“I just want them to see me as part of your family.”
“They will,” Ko promised. “How could they not? You’re extraordinary, Seri. And if they can’t see that, then they’re the ones missing out.”
“Just be yourself. They may be royalty, but they’re still just people. Powerful, ancient, potentially dangerous people,” Cas amended at Koa’s raised eyebrow, “but people nonetheless.”
“And if all else fails,” I said with a grin, determined to lighten the mood, “just ask Mum about the time she defenestrated theThunderbird king’s translator during a Court of Realms summit. She loves telling that story.”
“She de— She didwhatto him?”
“It means to throw someone out of a window,” Cas supplied.
“There’s actuallya wordfor that?” Seri seemed more awed by that fact than the diplomatic nightmare Mum had created. “Like, it happens enough that people made awordfor it?”
“Mum excels at it.” I shrugged. “Maybe she coined it.”
After a few more questions, Seri bounced out of the dining room, heading for her closet. Her enthusiasm was both endearing and terrifying, like watching a puppy bound happily toward a tornado.
“This is going to be a disaster.” I plunked my forehead on the table, and Koa clapped a hand on my shoulder and squeezed.
“Even if it is, we’ve survived worse,” Cas said calmly.
“Have we, though? Have wereally?”
#
One of the gate gargoyles knocked on the front door. Not something that happens every day, even at Evermere.
“Sky wyrms.” Its voice was like gravel sliding down a mountain. “Two. Requesting permission to enter Evermere airspace.”
My heart stalled, then tried to break through my ribs.
“Mum’s here.” I squeaked, then cleared my throat.
“Now?” Seri looked ready to pass out. “It’s barely five!”
“Royal prerogative,” Cas sighed. “Arrive when least expected to maintain the upper hand.”
“Should I adjust the wards to let them in?” Ko asked as the gargoyle stood impassively in the doorway, waiting for instructions.
“Unless you want irritated sky wyrms circling Evermere for the next two hours, yeah, probably,” I snorted.
As Ko bolted for the security room, Casimir instructed the gargoyle to wait until the wards were open, then have Mum and Caelyr land their sky wyrms on the eastern lawn, our usual stargazing slash moon-bathing spot. The gargoyle nodded and lumbered off, spreading its heavy wings and launching into the air.
“All right, everyone!” I shouted. “It’s showtime!”
“But I’m notready!” Seri protested, hands on her cheeks.
