Shadow Heir

“To what end?” asked Dorian with a small, curious frown.

I shrugged. “Well. So you can get away and be alone and ... well ... you know ...”

Understanding flooded their faces. Shaya shook her head. “We’re in wartime, Your Majesty. We could hardly dream of doing anything so frivolous.”

Typical gentry. They had no problem getting hot and heavy in public, but the idea of a private, romantic getaway was “frivolous.”

“Besides,” added Rurik with a wink, “why do we need to leave? Plenty of places to do it around here. And in the Thorn Land.”

“Ugh,” I said, after they’d strolled away. “How in the world did he win her over?”

Dorian chuckled. “Well, I daresay he won you over too. You weren’t his biggest admirer when you met.”

“That’s for damned sure,” I said. “But there’s a difference between simply learning to get along with someone and vowing to spend the rest of your life with them.”

“The way I see it, you can’t have one without the other.”

“That makes no sense,” I countered.

“Love rarely does. It’s a magic beyond any in this world.” I rolled my eyes, and he extended his arm to me. “Shall we see what delights lie in store among the refreshments? Surely there’s something there that even human medicine will allow you to consume.”

The mood was too festive for me to give him a hard time, so I let him lead me across the grounds, which wasn’t easy. Everyone passing by had something to say to us, whether it was simple congratulations or outright declarations of fealty. We had to carry on our conversation in pieces.

“Have you found another human doctor you can see?” Dorian asked me. “In a new and secure location?”

“Not yet,” I said. His wording wasn’t lost on me. He’d phrased it as a given, rather than chiding me for what he thought was a foolish errand, as he had last time. I knew it was a great concession for him, and I was willing to give something back. “Honestly, I’m not sure I should. Everything’s been going so well ... with the pregnancy, that is. Like you were saying, whatever help a human doctor can give me might be undone by the dangers I’m risking by venturing out of my kingdoms.”

Dorian nodded thoughtfully, with no hint of an I-told-you-so attitude. “Well, you’ll choose what’s best, I’m sure. Perhaps Roland might be able to suggest something when he next visits.”

“Perhaps,” I agreed. My gaze drifted to the opposite side of the courtyard, and I felt a smile grow. “And I know Pagiel will go with me anywhere and defend my honor.”

Dorian followed where I was looking. Pagiel, bright and full of energy, was holding onto Jasmine’s hands and trying to coax her into a dance. Gentry musicians had appeared in a corner and struck up a tune that had many skipping food for dancing. She kept shaking her head, but even I recognized the coy look of someone playing hard-to-get. It was obvious she secretly enjoyed his attentions.

“It doesn’t bother you?” Dorian asked.

“Nah,” I said as we finally reached the food. “He’s a good kid, and at least he’s relatively close to her age. Besides, now that I’ve claimed the honor, I don’t have to worry about her getting pregnant first.” When I’d first met Jasmine, she’d been involved with a gentry king named Aeson and dead-set on fulfilling our father’s prophecy. She, like Rurik, was someone who’d undergone a change for the better.

I meant to ask Dorian about the Yew Land, but the opportunity never really presented itself. Aside from being distracted by those constantly coming up to talk to us, we were also just caught up in the festivities themselves. Both of my kingdoms, as well as Dorian’s, had been living in a tense state these last few months, and it was nice to have a break from that. I laughed and cheered with the others when Rurik brought Shaya out onto the dance floor and spun her around. I watched Jasmine and Pagiel flirt with youthful innocence. I even drank some sort of sweet nectar, which the chef had sworn to me wasn’t alcoholic. It was served in goblets constructed from tulips, reminding me not for the first time that my life really was a fairy tale—just not always a happy one.

Dorian admired the happy, dancing couples and then gave me a knowing look. “I suppose I’d be wasting my time asking you to dance?”

“You’d have more luck with one of the horses,” I said.

He chuckled. “You’re smaller than you think, and besides, you keep forgetting how beautiful fertility is to us—not like humans, who seem ashamed of it. You’ve spent too much time among them.”

“That’s an understatement,” I teased. “I’ve spent most of my life with them. I can’t help but think like a human.”

“I know,” he said with mock sadness. “It’s a habit I keep hoping you’ll shake.”