country unaided, unthanked, and in complete disregard of said guest’s requests to bid them farewell in person.”
“They were ready to leave,” Danric said coolly. “I could hardly force them to wait while you sipped your tea and dallied over your choice of a morning frock.”
Leisa had never thought to be thankful to King Melger, but it was only his interruption that saved her from a probably disastrous outburst. She was on the verge of leaping to her feet and favoring his eldest son with her opinion in extremely unprincess-like terms when the king spoke up. And in an unexpectedly conciliatory tone.
“Perhaps we were a bit hasty.”
Leisa’s jaw threatened to drop as Melger addressed her gravely. “Princess Evaraine, I fear Garimore owes you an apology. You are correct in your protest—you should have been permitted to see your retinue off properly, and I regret forcing you to endure such an unpleasant discussion by ignoring your wishes.” He sighed and leaned his head against the back of his chair. “I pray you will forgive an impatient old man and be willing to give us another chance.”
In Farhall, some of the older generations still believed in the efficacy of temperature shock in driving away winter-sickness. They would smother themselves in blankets, sit by the fire until they were streaming with sweat, then run outside and plunge themselves into a snowbank.
Leisa had always preferred to suffer through the cough and sore throat, but suddenly she felt as though she’d been put through the polite, political version of that rather barbaric cure. From fire to ice with no warning whatsoever.
But what was she to believe? Danric’s icy scorn, or his father’s over-warm apology?
“Apology accepted, of course,” she said graciously. “Perhaps instead of dwelling on what is past, we might briefly discuss how to move forward. My remaining honor guard will be waiting to know how they may continue to serve and what expectations I will have of them.”
It took only a handful of minutes for King Melger to agree to her suggestion that a member of her guard report briefly to her suite each morning. They furthermore concurred that two of the guards should be allowed to attend any official court function at which she was to appear. Melger then waved off her offer for them to share the responsibility of guarding her room at night, and as she was not yet confident enough to broach the subject of whether his pet assassin ever actually slept, she chose not to argue. She’d already won far more concessions than she expected, so perhaps that could wait.
“And now,” King Melger said at length, “regarding the marriage contract, perhaps I have been too hasty in that as well. I’m sure you would wish for more time to accustom yourself to our kingdom before making any decisions about your future with us.”
Prince Danric looked frustrated, but the King was already rising from the table, forcing everyone else to rise with him.
And honestly, Leisa was feeling a bit unsettled herself. Based on her perusal of the marriage contract back in Farhall, she already had any number of questions about what it contained.
For example, it stipulated that Princess Evaraine would be expected to reside in Garimore for at least half the year. Farhall and Garimore would be mutually committed to one another’s defense in cases of foreign aggression, but the requirement was listed in number of troops rather than a percentage of their full fighting force. Should she be called upon to fulfill that promise, Farhall’s ability to defend herself would be nonexistent, while Garimore would only be sacrificing a small portion of her standing armies.
Then there were the economic provisions. Again, in numbers rather than percentages. Trade concessions. Not to mention that the contract included a sneaky little clause that gave Vaniell a say in the governance of Farhall, but no such provision for Evaraine to influence Garimoran policy in any way.
Leisa understood the political realities. Garimore was larger, wealthier, and far more powerful. They were in a position to make demands in exchange for their aid and protection and stood to gain relatively little in return. But for Farhall to surrender any portion of her sovereignty sat ill with her, and she needed to know what Garimore’s posture towards Farhall’s continued self-governance might be.
But apparently, her questions would have to wait.
She curtsied without much thought, realized too late that she’d chosen the wrong one, and then breathed a sigh of relief as she noted that Melger and Danric were