“Is she making a social call or a political one?”
“Both, probably. She mentioned bringing her Minister of Agriculture to discuss crop rotation techniques with our farmers.” Darragh’s tone was casual, but Finn heard the pride underneath. Other kingdoms didn’t just tolerate Safe Harbor anymore, they were actively seeking out Darragh and Finn’s expertise.
“We’ll make time,” Finn said. He’d been learning a lot in the past six months as well - learning to balance his practical work with consort duties, and accepting that he needed to schedule infrastructure projects around diplomatic obligations.
It helped that he’d hired staff who understood his priorities. Since the summit, Gordon had stepped up, moving from being Finn’s personal assistant to the genuine head of household - with office duties thrown in. It was Gordon who delegated as much as possible to new staff, ensuring things ran smoothly even when Finn was knee-deep in foundation repairs.
Hoofbeats sounded on the road below. Finn glanced down to see Jericho dismounting, looking far more official than he had six months ago. His brother had accepted Darragh’s offer to join the royal council as an adviser, bringing fresh perspectives to what he called ‘dusty old’ policies. Half the nobility still complained about Jericho’s “radical” ideas, which Darragh considered a ringing endorsement.
“You two look very domestic,” Jericho called up, grinning.
“It’s called being productive,” Finn corrected. “You should try it sometime.”
“Said by someone who has sawdust in your hair.”
“You’ve got pompous in your voice. It must be from spending all that time with the other advisers.”
Jericho laughed, accepting a cup of cider from one of the villagers. “I actually have news from court. The Northern Collective formally proposed a joint infrastructure initiative. They want to model their harbor improvements on what we did in Eastpoint.”
Darragh nearly dropped his hammer. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Helena’s drafting the agreement now.” Jericho’s smile widened. “Apparently, word spread about the king consort’s innovative approach to practical engineering. Several kingdoms are interested in consultation.”
“That’s…er…good.” Finn felt his cheeks flush and knew it had nothing to do with the sun. Six months ago, he’d been terrified of embarrassing Safe Harbor. Now, other kingdoms wanted his expertise.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Darragh murmured, though his eyes shone with pride.
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, the Northern Collective deals with you, not me,” Finn reminded him.
Another rider approached. It was Trent this time. Finn had asked him to inspect some bridge repairs. He’d taken the newly created role of Infrastructure Manager, overseeing practical projects across Safe Harbor with the same straightforward competence and good humor he’d brought to everything else. The role suited Trent perfectly, giving him authority withoutrequiring him to worry about who was meant to sit in specific seats during a formal dinner.
“Greenmere bridge is solid,” Trent reported, swinging off his horse. “The current reinforcements will hold through spring flooding.” He looked up at the roof. “How’s it going up there?”
“Nearly finished,” Finn called down. “Did you want to help with the last section?”
“Absolutely not. I just got clean.” Trent was already grinning and accepting ale from Mrs. Weatherby before he settled in to watch.
The final beam went into place as the sun began to set. Finn tested the structure, putting his full weight on the new supports. They were solid and Finn knew that the roof would protect all the children throughout countless winters, keep them dry during storms, and give them the shelter they needed to help with their learning.
“There,” he said, satisfaction warm in his chest. “That’s proper work.”
Darragh came to stand beside him, surveying their accomplishment. “We make a good team.”
“We do.” Finn leaned against him briefly, not caring who saw. Six months of proving himself had taught him something else important - the people who mattered didn’t care about propriety.
Below, someone started setting up tables for supper. The smell of roasted meat and fresh bread drifted up, making Finn’s stomach growl. They’d been working since dawn with only brief breaks. His muscles ached, his hands were filthy, and he’d probably have splinters for days. Best of all, he’d never been happier.
“You know what today is?” Finn asked, watching the sun paint the sky brilliantly in hues of pink and gold.
Darragh’s grin was immediate, warm enough to rival the sunset. “Thursday. It’s our day.”
“Every day is our day now.” And that was true, too. Finn and Darragh kept their tradition of Thursdays - one full day together away from court obligations. But they’d also learned to find each other in the everyday moments - morning meetings where they worked through problems together, evening walks in the gardens. The best times were the quiet nights in their chambers, where sometimes they would still be talking until dawn about everything and nothing.
Darragh cupped his face, thumbs brushing sawdust from his cheekbones. “I love you,” he murmured quietly.
“I love you too.” Finn kissed him softly. “You have sawdust in your hair as well. We match.”
“That we do, my husband. That we do.” Darragh’s grin was wide. Of course, they were in public, and it seemed the villagers appreciated their kiss, erupting in cheers and good-natured whistling.
