Shadow Cursed by May Sage Page 0,74
whatever gift she’d stuffed in a broom closet. I must admit that the last few years, I’ve sniffed around for it, knowing how it infuriates her when I find her presents.
I haven’t found anything this year. Not in the lily pond, not on the roof, not behind the paintings in the armory.
She knows it, I can tell. The way she smirks when she enters the hall of crowns shows she knows she’s victorious.
I try not to pout.
The fact that she’s particularly gorgeous tonight, wrapped in one of Ma’am Rolo’s long gossamer gowns, so delicate I almost see through the blush fabric, would drive any man to distraction.
“Do you truly need to look at her like that?” Dornant asks, grimacing.
Dornant despises any show of affection, from anyone at all—Vlari and I more than the rest.
I ignore him. He’s a hundred and fifty now, twice the age Vlari and I were when we saved Tenebris from the human invaders, but in his entire life, he has known no sorrow, no hardship. We’ve built a world where our children have the luxury of being spoiled and naive. It’s our grandest accomplishment.
“Oh, leave Father alone, grumpy.” Rulla yet again confirms her place as my favorite child, slapping the back of her twin’s head.
I can admit that. Dornant is Vlari’s boy. Rulla’s my girl.
Dornant glares at his sister. “Just because I have to accept Mother and Father must have had sex at one point doesn’t mean that I need visual reminders.”
“One day, you’ll fall in love, and then I hope you know Father will exact his revenge.”
I grin, imagining it. I’ll embarrass the hell out of him if the day comes that he sets his eyes on anyone.
Vlari reaches us on the dais, but instead of joining us, taking the ornate throne at the center, she turns to face the court.
All fall silent as she raises her hands, palms up.
I frown, confused and on alert. I don’t know of any announcement scheduled for today, of all days. My birthdays are nights of mindless celebrations, much more casual than that of the queen. Hers are political affairs gathering the lords of all of Alfheimr.
“Lords and ladies, kings and queens.” Her crisp voice fills the still room, and the folk silently bow before her. “For one hundred and thirty years, I’ve ruled our land as best as I could. I have weighed your complaints, I have quelled your anger, I have shielded us from our enemies.”
“Praised be the queen!” Titus yells, raising his golden goblet.
He's a frequent visitor now that we've moved to the Old Keep, deep in the Murkwood, so close to the seelie border.
The court echoes him, drinking to Vlari’s health.
She waits for silence before continuing. “What no one has ever said is that I wouldn’t have been able to do any of it without those who stood by my side, now and then. My mother, my father, my friend, my sister.” She turns away from the court, and faces me now. “And you, Rystan.”
She uses my name so sporadically, particularly in public.
“Thirteen decades ago, you reclaimed our country with me. Then, you raised our children, advised me, consoled me on my darkest nights. I may hold the crown, but you’re the pillar of the realm.”
“To King Rystan!” Meda toasts, followed up by the rest of the court.
I grin, accepting their ovation with a bow.
I’m not used to it; my role as Vlari’s consort is to stand in the shadows. I understand how her grandfather ended up resenting it. I don’t. I’m happy taking care of my family. Of Vlari. But Alven never loved the late queen; he was trapped out of the sunlight, condemned to exist in her shadow.
“Today, I considered giving you a spelled cloak, or a pretty ring, or a dagger that turns any heart it pierces to ice.”
My mate has good taste.
“Then I realized you’ve had that and more, these one hundred and thirty birthdays. There’s only one thing left for me to give you.”
She nods at the children seated either side of me. They rise and move to stand next to her, both facing the crowd.
Whatever is going on, they’re part of it, the two traitors.
To my shock and dismay, Vlari gets to her knees and bends her head.
“Nevlaria Bane, High Queen of Tenebris, do you recognize your heir?” Rulla asks, her clear voice as eloquent as her mother’s.
“I recognize my son, Dornant Bane, as my heir.”
We’ve talked of this. I believe Rulla is better suited to politics than Dornant,