Finn stared at the pile of parchment on Helena’s desk and wondered if marriage contracts were measured by weight rather than number of pages.
“This is all for us?” He looked at Darragh, who’d settled into the chair beside him with far too much comfort for someone facing a mountain of legal documentation. But then, for Darragh, it was probably normal for him.
“It’s a standard royal marriage contract.” Helena tapped the stack with one finger. “I’ve seen longer.”
“How is that even possible?” Finn had never seen that many papers outside of a library or a bookshop.
“King Bryce’s contract included seventeen pages on acceptable grooming standards for his spouse’s horses.” Darragh grinned. “Seventeen. Pages.”
“I only have the one horse, and he’s still in Winrone. I’m sure a stall with the other horses in the royal stable will be fine.”
“Then we’ll skip that section.” Helena pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and dipped her quill. “Let’s start with the basics. Finn, upon marriage you’ll be elevated to king consort with all the rights and privileges therein. That’s nonnegotiable and guaranteed by World Council law.”
“What does that actually mean?”
“It means you outrank everyone except Darragh.” Helena didn’t look up from her writing. “You’ll have authority to make decisions on behalf of the kingdom, access to the treasury, and the right to attend all council meetings.”
Finn’s stomach dropped. “All of them?”
“You don’t have to attend.” Darragh leaned back in his chair. “But you can if you want. Or you can send your regrets and work on village projects instead.”
“Can I put that in the contract?”
Helena’s quill paused. “Put what in the contract?”
“That I can still help people with repairs and building projects.” Finn sat forward. “In the city here or back in Winrone. I don’t want to just sit around being decorative.”
“You could never be just decorative.” Darragh’s voice was warm as he teased. “You fidget too much.”
“I’m serious. If I’m going to be stuck in formal clothes all day every day, I’ll lose my mind within a week.”
“Stuck in formal clothes?” Helena raised an eyebrow. “There’s no requirement that the king consort wear formal attire at all times.”
“There isn’t?”Maybe this won’t be so bad.
“No. Though court functions obviously require proper dress.”
Finn looked at Darragh. “You wear that style of coat every single day.”
“I like this style of coat.”
“It has to have something like seventeen buttons.”
“Sixteen. I counted.” Darragh grinned. “And I don’t wear it when I go down to the harbor. I usually end up helping load crates, and the damn thing gets in the way.”
Finn pictured Darragh hauling cargo in his shirtsleeves and felt something warm unfurl in his gut. “So I can add a clause about continuing practical work?”
“If it makes you happy.” Helena was already writing. “Though I’ll phrase it more formally. Something about maintaining community outreach through direct assistance with infrastructure projects.”
“That sounds better than ‘Finn gets to fix roofs.’”
“Significantly.” Helena’s lips twitched. “What else?”
Finn glanced at Darragh, who nodded encouragingly. “One day off a week. Together. Where we don’t have to be king and king consort. Just...us.”
“I was going to insist on that anyway.” Darragh shifted in his chair. “One full day where we can do absolutely nothing if we want. Or anything. Whatever we feel like.”
“That’s actually reasonable.” Helena made another note. “I’ll specify that barring emergencies, you’re both to have one uninterrupted day per week for personal time. Together.”
