Darragh caught Helena’s eye. She gave him a subtle nod. It was clear she understood that Finn was still operating from a place of fear and still doubting every decision.
A knock interrupted them. Jericho entered, followed by two younger nobles whom Darragh recognized from court functions.
“Your Majesty. Your Grace.” Jericho bowed low. “We didn’t mean to interrupt, but after the troubles recently, Lord Matthias and Lady Portia volunteered to help with delegation liaison duties.”
Both nobles bowed to Finn first - a deliberate show of respect for his rank. Darragh appreciated Jericho’s coaching.
“We thought we could help bridge the gap,” Lord Matthias said. “Many visiting delegations expect a certain level of formality that Safe Harbor doesn’t typically maintain. If we can smooth those transitions and show them the friendly side of protocol and formality, they might all relax more, which could make everyone more comfortable.”
Finn straightened. “What did you have in mind?”
“Just little things.” Lady Portia smiled. “While we respect that most of the meetings and events planned are for the higher-ranking members of each delegation, we could do other things such as offering to escort younger nobles to more casual evening events.”
“The idea being that even if the leaders are having a rough day, seeing their staff happy, relaxed, and enjoying their trip will hopefully encourage a more relaxed atmosphere for the powerful people, and an improved opinion on how this country operates.” Jericho grinned.
Darragh watched Finn relax the more Jericho spoke - not only was the idea brilliant, and likely not ever seen in a World Summit event before, but it was also playing to Finn’s strengths - caring about people regardless of their title.
“That would be invaluable.” Finn pulled out another document. “The evening reception on the second day has been worrying me. It’s meant to be casual, but I wasn’t sure how to structure it without it devolving into chaos.”
“Perhaps we can help with that.” Lady Portia accepted the document. “We’ll create a flow that feels natural but maintains the appropriate decorum for those who expect it.”
After they left, Finn sat back in his chair. “Jericho’s been busy.”
“He cares about you.” Helena gathered her notes and papers. “As do many people in this castle. You’re not as alone as you think, Your Grace.”
/~/~/~/~/
Trent appeared at lunch, covered in dust. “The east pavilion needed reinforcement.” He dropped into a chair without asking permission, that made Darragh mentally chuckle. He was one of the few people who could get away with such informality arounda king and king consort. “The structural beams were sound, but the decorative elements were ready to fall on someone’s head. But we fixed it.”
“Did the grounds crew object to your intervention?” Finn asked.
“They were relieved.” Trent accepted wine from a servant. “Thank you. It turns out they’ve been worried about it for weeks but didn’t know who to tell, because the problem hadn’t technically happened yet. I’ve got them checking all the outdoor structures now, figuring it would be better to find problems before your important delegates arrive.”
Darragh leaned forward. “You’ve organized the grounds crew?”
“Someone had to.” Trent shrugged. “Finn’s been drowning in paperwork, you’ve been handling political nightmares, and the crew wanted to help but had no direction. I gave them a checklist. They’re working through it.”
Finn laughed - the first honest laugh Darragh had heard in days. “You’ve been here mere days and you’ve reorganized my staff?”
“Your ground staff wanted organizing. They just needed someone who spoke their language.” Trent grinned. “Besides, it’s what I do. Finn fixes roofs, I fix systems.”
Over lunch, Trent reported on physical preparations with the same thoroughness Finn brought to documentation. Garden paths were cleared and reinforced. Outdoor lighting was tested and repaired. Servant quarters were inspected for adequate accommodations for visiting staff.
“The kitchens are having a moment about the menu.” Trent grimaced. “Apparently Queen Valdis has opinions about fish courses.”
“Of course she does.” Finn pulled out yet another document. “Her dietary requirements are three pages long.”
“The head cook wants to murder someone.” Trent accepted more wine. “I suggested focusing on what she can eat instead of complaining about restrictions. A revolutionary concept, I know, but it seemed to work.”
Darragh caught Finn smiling at his friend. Some of the exhaustion had lifted from his face. Having Trent around really helped Finn remember who he was before he married Darragh. And that was important to Darragh, too.
“Thank you.” Darragh met Trent’s eyes. “For helping. And for staying.”
Trent’s expression softened. “He’s my best friend, and for a king, you’re not so bad either. Where else would I be?”
/~/~/~/~/
By evening, Darragh ordered dinner sent to their chambers. No formal dining room, no servants hovering. Just the two of them in their sitting room with simple food and privacy.
