The confidence wasn’t forced. It came from something deeper - from remembering he was good at things, that his perspective had value, that being himself was not only acceptable but necessary.
Helena studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “You’re right. We’ve been approaching this wrong. Safe Harbor’s strength is authenticity. We should showcase it, not hide it.”
“The Northern Collective might actually appreciate it,” Aldric added, clearly warming to the idea. “They value practical skill over empty formality.”
“Then it’s settled.” Darragh looked at Finn with pride that made his chest tight. “We do this as ourselves.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Queen Valdis of Ironmoor has arrived, Your Majesty.”
Darragh straightened his jacket and glanced at Finn, who stood beside him in the courtyard - no nervous fidgeting, no stiff formality - just Finn, solid and present and a lot more like the man Darragh fell in love with. The transformation over the past few days had been remarkable. Not that Finn had become someone different, but that he’d stopped trying to.
“Ready?” Darragh asked.
“As I’ll ever be.” Finn smiled. “Let’s meet the difficult queen.”
They descended the steps together as Queen Valdis’s elaborate carriage rolled through the gates. She emerged in a sweep of silk and disapproval, her gray hair arranged in that architectural style that probably required an engineering degree to achieve. Her gaze swept across the courtyard with the glare of someone cataloging faults.
“Queen Valdis.” Darragh nodded just enough to show respect. “Welcome to Safe Harbor. May I present my husband, King Consort Finn.”
Finn nodded slightly deeper, as technically he ranked slightly below the queen. His nod wasn’t perfect, Darragh noted with private amusement, but he greeted the queen confidently. “We’re honored by your presence, Your Majesty. Your rooms overlook the harbor. I hope you’ll find them comfortable.”
“We shall see.” Valdis’s tone suggested she expected disappointment. “I trust my chef has been given adequate workspace?”
“The kitchens are at his disposal,” Finn confirmed. “Gordon, our head of household, will ensure he has everything he requires.”
Gordon materialized at the perfect moment, bowing to the queen. “If you’ll follow me, Your Majesty, I’ll show you to your apartments.”
As Valdis swept away, trailing servants and judgment, Finn exhaled slowly. “One down.”
“Seven more to go today.” Darragh squeezed his hand briefly. “You’re doing well.”
“I’m being myself. Turns out that’s easier than pretending.”
/~/~/~/~/
Queen Cressida arrived an hour later, warm, genuinely happy, and everything Queen Valdis wasn’t. She expressed delight at the accommodations - Finn had specifically requested a ground-floor suite for her, remembering her trouble with stairs - and mentioned she’d heard wonderful things about the new king consort’s practical approach.
“You’ve made quite an impression,” she told Finn with a smile. “Word travels in diplomatic circles. They say you actually fix things yourself?”
Finn glanced at Darragh, who nodded encouragement. “I do, Your Majesty. I’m a carpenter by training. I find old habits die hard, despite wearing a crown on occasion.”
“How refreshing.” Cressida’s warmth seemed entirely sincere. “I look forward to getting to know you both better during the summit.”
Emperor Shen arrived along with a copy of his list of extensive dietary requirements and a serene expression that could’ve meant anything. King Dimitri followed with his entourage of thirty-seven comfort specialists. Both were polite, formal, and gave little away. Darragh had met them at previous summits.They were professional diplomats who revealed nothing until negotiations began, but that didn’t mean they missed anything.
The sun was lowering when the carriage bearing King Orwyn and Princess Marielle rolled through the gates.
Darragh felt Finn tense beside him, just slightly. They’d discussed the princess. Marielle had been...a mistake, briefly. One dinner, years ago, when Darragh had still been on his marriage quest. She’d spent two hours explaining how her embroidery skills would enhance Safe Harbor’s cultural reputation. He’d spent those same two hours planning his escape. Finally, unable to stay polite any longer, he’d just got up, given the princess a brief bow, and left the room. The summit would be the first time they’d met up since.
“King Orwyn.” Darragh greeted the man with honest respect. Orwyn was a solid ruler, practical and fair. His daughter was another matter entirely.
“King Darragh.” Orwyn’s handshake was firm. “Congratulations on your marriage. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting King Consort Finn?”
“Father, really.” Marielle emerged from the carriage in a cloud of perfume and silk. “Must we stand about in the courtyard? The wind is absolutely ruining my hair.”
Darragh watched Finn’s face. No irritation showed, no reaction beyond polite acknowledgment. “Princess Marielle. Welcome to Safe Harbor. Your rooms are prepared - I’m sure you’ll want to refresh yourself after the journey.”
