Page 53 of The Ivory King

“Nor am I,” Merrilyn added before sinking back away from the round window as we clip-clopped back to Castle Avolire.

Raewyn gave her wife a kiss on the cheek as I rubbed V’alor’s meaty thigh. “You two will be the subject of much speculation.” Merrilyn and V’alor exchanged looks and rolled their eyes to the ornate roof of the carriage. “Perhaps the bards will create songs about your aloof and mysterious ways!”

“Ihdospleasespare us sonnets,” they both mumbled in unison.

I hoped the pubs were soon ringing with songs about the odd Stillcloud king and his trio of life partners. I was sure the lyrics would be ribald. If only the good people knew that the only ribaldry would be between my husband and me, they would be sorely disappointed.

That night, we all gathered in my suite—the king’s massive chamber was being readied for a new monarch on the morrow—and sat before the fire sipping honeyed wine to calm our nerves. V’alor was still in his wedding finery, as we all were, his dark green vestments matching the autumnal hues of copper, bronze, and deep red we had hastily chosen.

We talked of our hopes and dreams, our plans for the immediate future, and the rebellion that was brewing in the poorer sections of Celear. We all hoped that a new regime with a mixture of noble, common, and human insight would ease thetensions in the streets. The knowledge that a few radical elves had plotted quite successfully to kill the king saddened and frightened us, for we were within a sunrise of being crowned king, queen, and royal consorts. Already there were rumblings from the masses about a human being part of the high court, but Merrilyn would prove to be a temperate consort to the queen, just as V’alor would to the new king.

Knowing that many would question the four of us sharing a room, we purposefully lingered in my chamber until dawn, the women curling up on my bed while V’alor and I wiggled ourselves into a firm chaise by the balcony doors. My head rested on his chest as my eyes drifted closed. The lyrical bells of the shrine called to us when dawn arrived on a soft breeze. I snapped awake when the future queen snorted loudly across the room. V’alor came awake with a start as well.

“Good dawn, husband,” I whispered as V’alor brushed some hair from my face.

“Good dawn, Your Majesty,” he replied before I wiggled up to press my lips to his.

“In our chambers, we are Aelir and V’alor. No titles are permitted,” I corrected quietly as the women snored softly a few feet away. Raewyn’s sleep breaths were incredibly loud. How Merrilyn dozed so easily at her side was a mystery. We both chuckled softly at the whinnies and grunts coming from such a petite woman. “If I did not know better, I would think we had fallen asleep in the stables.”

“Mm, there is a similarity betwixt the mule’s snores and the fair lady’s. Thankfully, she is not as flatulent as the mules.” I sniggered. He traced my right eyebrow with his thumb. “I am most happy to be your wedded husband. I am confident in my ability to fulfill my husbandly duties. What I am not confident about is becoming the king’s consort.”

“You will fulfill that role wonderfully. I have no doubt. What I worry over ismyability to lead a nation.” I tucked my head under his chin, the soft slide of our sleeping robes under a thick covering pleasant on my exposed thigh.

“You shall do well. You are well-liked, temperate, and possessed of a great vision for the future of all those who call Melowynn home, not just the elite.” He ran his fingers through my hair as a gull, the first of many, called out as it rode the warming thermals over the sea.

“I pray you are right,” I mumbled against his chest.

Lying here in his arms, our vows still fresh in my mind, I longed to remain here forever, but that was not to be. The streets were filling outside the castle. The poor and the rich, human, dwarf, Sandrayan, pixie, and elf. Green-skinned, dark-skinned, and pale-skinned, were filing into the capital to see a new king crowned. With a new sun shining down on Castle Avolire, I closed my eyes and let the steady thump of my beloved’s strong heart soothe the worries gathering in my soul. All I, or any elf, could do was our best, and I would ensure the people of Melowynn got my very best.

IF ONLY THE REST OF THE DAY COULD HAVE BEEN SO PLEASANT.

I was pulled from my husband’s arms with a thunderous round of knocks on my door followed by my grandfather’s bellows to rise. Umeris, clad in his imperial grand advisor robes of white and blue, watched as Raewyn and Merrilyn exited with a nod of their rumpled heads at him before entering with a small contingency of staff who then began moving me and V’alor about the room as if we were dressmaker’s dummies. Into a bath where we were scrubbed, then oiled, then dried off with soft toweling. V’alor muttered throughout as Umeris, seated in the chair by the desk, his silver hair free, a slim coronet with sapphires set into gold atop his head, began reading the day’s itinerary. Another knock, another staff member bustled in, his eyes wide as Umeris glanced up at his arrival.

“Place his clothes on the bed,” Umeris said. The young elf tossed V’alor’s meager possessions to the unmade bed and darted away. “Silly child.” Umeris sighed before returning to tell me what the day held. “Are you listening, Aelir? I do not wish to have to guide you through this by the hand as if you were a lad.”

I glanced around at a young woman who was working a comb through my hair, which was a knotted mess. Each tug made me wince. Each yank pulled an apology from the girl, which I waved off with a smile and watering eyes. V’alor stood in the corner, arms out as an old elf, I had to assume was the royaltailor, flitted about him, pinning a new outfit of plum with gold threading.

“I’m rather sure I can find the shrine,” I snapped back. Umeris studied me. Several of the castle staff made small sounds of unease at his expression. I could only assume they would have fainted if the dark look at been aimed at them. “I did manage to travel to Celinthe to locate my future queen and then return without your hand on my leading strings.”

“Your tart tongue is not required,” Umeris commented.

“Neither is this purple suit,” V’alor mumbled. The tailor gave him a sour look. “Apologies, good tailor, it is a lovely color. Fitting of a king’s consort.”

He got a harrumph in return.

“If we could continue, please?” Umeris asked as a gusty, salty wind blew into the suite. “You will be—” A small rapping on the door cut off my grandfather. “By Ihdos! Come in and leave whatever it is you carry!” Two young men rushed in with trays of food. “Place it on the desk and be quick about it.” They did as bid, then ran out. A guardsman I did not know closed the door. “Why is it that the younger generation of elves are so flighty? Who trains the staff in this castle? When I was a young elf, servants were taught their roles and respectbeforethey were allowed near a noble or royal personage.”

“Much has changed in the two thousand years you have been alive,” I said and grunted at a particularly strong tug on my hair. Umeris shot me a flat look at the wild exaggeration of his age. Yes, he was old, but not that old. Yet.

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” the hairdresser whispered.

“It is fine. I should have combed it before my bath. You are doing well.” I smiled at her.

“I hope your temper this morning runs its course quickly. You have much to oversee, and I will not make apologies all day long for a truculent monarch.” I rolled my eyes at V’alor, whowas being pinned in rather delicate places. The man was not amused. “After you are fed and readied, you shall proceed to the shrine of Ihdos via a circuitous route through the streets of Celear so the whole of the city may see you and your…your…” He looked at V’alor. “Your entourage of wedded partners.” That made me smile to myself. “Once in the shrine, you shall be presented with the holy scepter and the robes of wisdom. After that presentation—” He paused when my stomach rumbled. “Would someone please feed the king?”

A half dozen elves rushed to the covered platters on the desk. Dishes of figs, cooked eggs, fruit, bacon, pungent cheeses, warm dark bread, butter, and honey were uncovered. Tea was poured and carried to me, and then V’alor, who reached for the cup, yelped as a pin was driven into his arse. I snorted. The tailor tsked my husband. Umeris held out his hand for a cup of sweetened tea that was immediately delivered.

“Are there no honey cakes?” I asked. I’d been hoping to fill up with some of Widow Poppy’s delicacies. The staff looked between themselves with wide, worried eyes.

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