Page 151 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain
Everyone but Cescily stands and bows deeply.
“Princess! How wonderful to see you,” Lord Mehstons exclaims.
I give him a tight smile. “You too, Lord Mehstons,” I lie with ease, having done it multiple times before.
Everyone takes their seat again with quiet shuffling. Another councilor moves down a seat to make room for me to sit at Alec’s right at the head of the table. Though I’ve met all the councilors multiple times, I’ve only sat through one meeting. It was horribly boring, and I expect this one to be the same. Alec glances at me and barely winks, the hint of a smile dancing on his perfect lips.
“Alright. The purpose of calling this meeting?” His voice is deep and commanding, his words straightforward.
Alec listens dutifully as budgets for Samhain celebrations, renovations to a city run Healer’s office, and dock repairs in the port are discussed. Cescily takes avid notes, her and Alec both chime in intermediately with their thoughts. It is boring, but I do my best to pay attention and appear engaged.
Almost two hours have passed, and my ass is starting to get sore. Alec smiles and squeezes my knee under the table reassuringly every so often, motivating me to not fall asleep while also showing his appreciation for being here.
I’m daydreaming when suddenly the thought occurs to me that even after we complete our mating, a wedding and coronation will still be required before I’m officially queen. My stomach tightens, wondering if Alec intends for all of that to happen before we leave The Capital.
“Well, that is all we have for you today, my king,” Lord Mehstons says, closing his book of ledgers. “Unless there is anything else to address, that concludes this meeting.”
“I do have two matters to discuss,” Alec announces.
“Of course, my king.”
“First: I will need my ship prepared and sailed down the coast to the southern port of Brhadir as soon as possible. Ellya and I will be visiting her family before we embark on her first tour of the Territories.”
Everyone but Cescily registers surprise.
“Would it not be safer to set sail from the Bay of Quinndohs—go through the Trench?” one of the councilors asks.
“Bokhaii will be our first stop and, as you know, the Trench will not take us there,” Alec announces.
“It will?” I blurt out.
Alec smiles softly and turns his attention to me. “Of course, my clove.” I practically melt in my seat at the shameless use of his term of endearment in front of the council. “You have expressed your desire to see it since you were a child, and I thought you might want to see off your Nana to the islands.”
Alec turns his attention back to the council.
“We will not back track all the way to Quinndohs when Bokhaii is nearly a straight shot from Brhadport. Inform Mhaylene when the ship is ready; she will sail down the coast and wait for us at the port.”
Lord Mehstons makes note before saying, “It will be done, my king. Are you wanting the wedding to take place before you leave?” Concern lines his face, surely from the notion of putting together a royal wedding so quickly.
I hold my breath, waiting for Alec’s response.
“The wedding will not take place before we leave. We will do it justice,” he answers confidently. I exhale my relief. I’m not sure I’m ready for the attention I would receive for such an occasion.
“Secondly,” Alec begins again, “Cescily will be in charge for the duration of our trip, which is yet to be determined.” Alec’s tone has taken on a new air of command.
All the Lords of the council’s heads pop up and barely glance in Cescily’s direction.
“My king, are you wanting to keep your trip with the Princess private?” Lord Mehstons implores.
“No. Cescily will rule in my stead with her own face, her own voice.”
A pin could drop and echo through the unblinking silence of the room; I strugglenot to snort a laugh.
“But, my king, wouldn’t one of your brothers—?” a council member begins.
“Which one of my brothers?” Alec’s tone is dangerously soft as he interrupts. “Shall I uproot Caison and his family from their home? Or perhaps Garrick would be a better choice? His wife is due to give birth any day. I am sure they would welcome the change—and the prospect of him not being readily available for his family in those precious early days. Or shall I go set Locane free from his irons in the dungeons below our feet? Would that be a preferable option? He was meant to be your king after all.”
The tension in the room vibrates. The councilor breaks out in beads of sweat. He gulps thickly, searching for words.
