Page 51 of Under the Lion Star

Conversation was easy with the Helners. Zialda’s sisters were full of questions about my time in the war, life in the palace, and the places I had visited during my life. I wagered that Z had explicitly told them not to talk about my parents or siblings as the topic never came up. Something I was incredibly grateful for.

The meal was delicious, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it tasted better simply because I didn’t have to share any of it with a rodent.

When the topic of ceremony preparations came up, I noted how all of the sisters had firm opinions of what they would want in a wedding, except for Nima and Z. She assured me that whatever Sanna came up with would be fine with her and that the Helners didn’t worship any specific deity that would need to be accounted for.

The night ended with the lot of us playing cards, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the competitive spirit that seemed to overtake the woman who was burrowing further underneath my skin. She and Mera took their victories and losses to heart far more than the rest of the family.

My future wife was good with her sisters. She refilled their plates so they could focus on their own conversations and listened with rapt attention as they spoke of their lives, offering them kind words and no judgments.

She was a good person at her core, and it was plain to see, even if she tended to be rough around the edges. Her heart was huge, and she never shied away from sharing it with the people who mattered in her life.

So, when I found myself alone with her, sitting underneath the awning of the home’s stoop to protect us from the slight drizzle of rain, I realized that my fears about our union had seemingly dissipated.

“You sure you want that shit show as your in-laws?” Zialda asked, nudging me with her shoulder.

“Definitely,” I smiled. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a functioning family up close.”

She frowned, setting her hand on my knee.

“I, uh,” I sucked in a deep breath and removed the crown off my head, twisting it idly in my hands. “We used to be like that. Even during the war, there were a few occasions when everyone was on leave and back home at the same time, and we’d get together and just be.”

“Maybe we can get there again,” Z offered. “I know your parents are gone, but we can rebuild a sort of new family from the ashes. It won’t be the same, but it can still be nice.”

“I’d like that,” I nodded, swallowing past the emotion lodged in my throat.

“Will I get my own crown with some sort of exotic animal on it?” she poked the circlet in my hands. “I’m thinking a bear or maybe a dragon. Something cool.”

“A dragon?” I chuckled. “I actually already commissioned something for you. I hope that’s okay.”

“Depends,” she tapped her chin. “Does it have a dragon on it?”

“Unfortunately, I didn’t consider adding a mythical creature to the design,” I bumped her arm with my own. “It will be more feminine than this thing—less weight. I asked the jeweler to design something reminiscent of wheat. Figured that made sense for us.”

“That sounds nice,” Z said quietly. “Are you okay?”

I realized that my expression had slowly shifted into a frown while studying the coronet in my hands.

“I feel angry with my parents when I look at this,” I lifted it languidly, holding it out for her to take.

“Why anger?” She asked, running her thumb across the lion’s mane.

“I just can’t wrap my mind around their decision to prolong the war. In the end, it’s what led to their deaths. It’s their fault they aren’t here, their fault I still hear Sanna crying at night when I walk by her room, their fault that Orin is the way he is right now.”

“Leor,” Zialda set the crown in her lap, took my hand, and laced our fingers together. “We might never know their reasoning, but I’m sure each decision was weighed heavily. They loved you, and they loved Fjorn. I imagine there were times when the right choice for our country was at odds with what was the best choice as parents.”

I nodded, my throat constricting as chains wrapped themselves around my lungs.

“I wish I could just focus on my family,” I admitted. “It’s hard to give a fuck about Fjorn when they’re suffering.”

“You’ve got an entire country looking to you for guidance, siblings who need your full support,” Z sighed. “But who do you lean on? When things get hard and you’re the one who needs bolstering, who is there to hold you up?”

“Atlas,” I answered immediately. “But he can only shoulder so much.”

My head turned towards her, taking in her sad smile. The hand that wasn’t holding mine reached up, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear.

“Well,” she said. “You’re stuck with me now. We’ll take care of each other.”

She leaned toward me, and I mirrored her movements. Her soft lips pressed against mine so slightly that I wasn’t sure it was real. My hand drifted to her hip, pulling her more firmly into my body. Her fingers coasted over my neck, sending a shiver down my spine and straight to my dick.

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