“Oh, how thoughtful.” Marielle’s smile was sharp. “Though I must say, the charming rustic atmosphere is quite different from Tallridge. We don’t typically greet guests in courtyards. We have proper receiving rooms for such occasions.”
“We find the courtyard more welcoming,” Finn replied evenly. “It allows our guests to see the harbor immediately. The view is one of Safe Harbor’s greatest assets.”
“How provincial.” Marielle adjusted her gloves. “I suppose that’s the fashion here.”
King Orwyn’s expression tightened, but before he could speak, Finn gestured toward the castle entrance. “Gordon will show you to your apartments. Dinner begins at eight. We have sea shanties from our local performers tonight. I’m sure you’ll find that quite memorable.”
“Sea shanties.” Marielle’s laugh was light and cutting. “How... quaint.”
Darragh waited until they were out of earshot before speaking. “You handled that perfectly.”
“She’s trying to get under my skin.” Finn shrugged. “But she can’t, because I’m not pretending to be something I’m not. She can call it provincial all she wants. I know what Safe Harbor is, and I’m proud of it.”
Pride surged through Darragh’s chest. This. This was the man he’d married. Not the anxious, performing version who’d been trying to disappear into protocol, but the confident person who knew his own worth.
“Have I mentioned recently that I’m extraordinarily attracted to you?”
Finn’s grin was quick and held a hint of mischief. “Not since this morning.”
“That’s a grave oversight on my part.” Darragh caught his hand again, just for a moment. “We have an hour before we need to dress for dinner. Do you think we can sneak away?”
“Your Majesty.” Helena appeared from nowhere, her timing impeccable as always. “The kitchen needs final approval on the wine pairings, and the Harborside Singers want to confirm their performance order.”
“Apparently not,” Finn said wryly. “Duty calls.”
/~/~/~/~/
The great hall looked spectacular. Originally the staff had tried to match the formality some people - Thomas - believed important. But in the past week, all those mismatched efforts had been swept away and instead, Safe Harbor’s authentic beauty was on display.
Everything was simple and elegant. There were local flowers arranged on tables that had been spread out to encourage open conversation with people instead of table decorations. The windows stood open to let in the harbor breeze and the distant sound of waves.
Darragh stood at the head table with Finn, watching delegates file in. Queen Valdis paused in the doorway, her expression unreadable as she surveyed the room. Emperor Shen looked serene...again. Darragh had never played cards with the man and never intended to. Queen Cressida was already smiling, chatting warmly with one of the other delegates.
Princess Marielle swept in wearing enough jewels to fund a small army, her gaze immediately cataloging everything with visible disdain.
Focusing on what was important, Darragh turned to the stage. The Harborside Singers assembled near the windows - twelve men and women from the docks, wearing clean but simple clothes, holding no instruments. They would share their voices in traditional song, which formed the authentic sound of Safe Harbor’s working heart.
Darragh caught their leader’s eye and nodded. The first voice rose, clear and strong, carrying a melody that spoke of wind, waves, and home. Others joined in, harmonizing in ways that needed no formal training, just years of singing together while they worked. The sound filled the hall, beautiful and raw and completely unlike anything typically performed at diplomatic functions.
While Darragh loved it, he was watching the delegates carefully, and he noticed Aldric and Helena from their table doing the same.
Emperor Shen had closed his eyes, his serene expression deepening into something that looked like genuine emotion. King Dimitri’s fingers were tapping against his glass, keeping time with the rhythm. Several other delegates had leaned forward, smiling and clearly enjoying the performance.
Queen Valdis looked intrigued. Actually intrigued, her sharp gaze fixed on the singers with what might have been respect. Queen Cressida was openly delighted.
Only Princess Marielle looked unimpressed, whispering to her father with barely concealed disdain, in a way that could be considered rude among polite circles.
The singers moved through three songs, each one showcasing different aspects of Safe Harbor’s musical tradition. The final piece was haunting, a ballad about sailors lost at sea, and the hall fell completely silent except for those twelve voices.
When they finished, the applause was immediate and loud, filling the giant hall. Even some of the servants were clapping as the singers left the stage.
“Charming,” Marielle’s voice carried as the applause finally wound down. “Fishermen’s songs are quaint, but hardlyappropriate for diplomatic events. One expects a certain level of sophistication at these gatherings, not tavern entertainment.”
The comment landed like a stone in still water. Darragh felt Finn tense beside him, but before either of them could respond, Queen Valdis turned in her seat. Her expression was cold enough to freeze the harbor.
“Princess Marielle.” Yep. Queen Valdis’s voice could have cut glass. “I have attended diplomatic functions across twelve kingdoms over four decades. I have heard every tired court orchestra playing the same predictable repertoire, suffered through countless mediocre performances by musicians selected for their connections rather than their talent.”
She paused, letting the silence stretch. “What we just heard was authentic artistry. It was unique, culturally significant, and executed with genuine skill. If you cannot recognize the difference between authentic excellence and generic court entertainment, that speaks to limitations in your own education rather than deficiencies in our hosts’ choices.”
