“Very well, Majesty. I will see to him.” The physician entered the bedchamber, followed by Thaddeus.
“Jelsa?” Adeline gestured down at her gray dress. “I will need to changeinto black.”
“Of course, milady.” Jelsa bobbed another curtsy. “I will also see to your hair. You will need to make a statement.”
That she would. Adeline headed into the bedchamber, glancing only briefly at where the physician was checking on Lord Lorne’s wounds and Thaddeus was laying out a new set of clothes, before she entered the dressing room.
In the dressing room, Adeline gave herself over to Jelsa’s care. She dressed in one of the black dresses she had in her wardrobe before Jelsa set to work weaving another crown of braids, similar to what Adeline had worn for her late-night wedding, except that this time she tucked in diamond accents instead of pearls.
Adeline found herself physically ready long before she was mentally ready. All too soon, she was sweeping down the halls, Thaddeus just a step behind her and her guards trailing after, the physician’s reassurance that he would have Lord Lorne in position still ringing in her ears.
She descended the stairs, strode down a short corridor, and halted before the double doors to the assembly hall. Only a few nights ago, she’d been married within this hall. Now she’d face down her council and hope they didn’t revolt then and there.
The guards stationed there opened the door, and a footman called into the room, “Her Highness Princess Adeline.”
The title was no longer correct, but the footman didn’t know that.
As the occupants of the room stood and bowed inher direction, Adeline glided inside, keeping her head high, the diamonds woven into the braid wound around her head winking in the light shining through the high windows. She didn’t pause until she’d climbed the dais, where she turned and faced the gathered crowd of lords before her.
Her legs shook worse at the sight. So many men arrayed before her. Not a single ruling lady in sight since women couldn’t inherit a title and sit on the council. It was amazing that Kelvernese law allowed women to inherit the throne at all.
Even if she couldn’t inherit it without a man at her side. True, a man couldn’t inherit without being married either. But she didn’t think those marriages were as much about control as the men in this room intended hers to be.
Had she bypassed that domination? Or had she simply taken on another form of it by tying herself to the Lalsacian lord? She didn’t know him well enough yet to see if he would be a man like her grandfather.
Or he could be a man like her father. Kind. Gentle. Self-sacrificing. Whatever confidence she still retained was a remnant of the love her father and mother had given her in her early years.
She wouldn’t know for sure until Lord Lorne healed enough to no longer be so vulnerable and dependent.
Pushing the thoughts of Lord Lorne away, she faced the crowd of men packed into the rows of the hall. “King Jeraldo is dead.”
She didn’t even try to work up tears or a mourningnote to her voice. Right now, she was queen, and queens didn’t have the luxury of emotions. Nor did she actually feel that sort of sorrow at her grandfather’s passing.
Lord Axtol, the oldest lord on the council and therefore its head, stood. “As you know, the law clearly states that an heir to the crown must be married to ascend to the throne.”
“If I might speak, Lord Axtol.” Lord Sarlon slid to his feet as well, his expression as slick as his tone. When Lord Axtol nodded to him, Lord Sarlon held up a sheaf of papers. “Before he died, the late king negotiated a contract of betrothal between his granddaughter and my son. All it needs is the princess’s signature to make it official.”
Several of the lords leapt to their feet, shouting and protesting. Many of these lords also had eligible sons, and their protests had more to do with wanting to grab power by positioning their son as consort than any concern about her.
The few lords who were loyal to her remained seated and quiet, their gazes fixed on her as they waited for her to reveal the truth.
She let the commotion continue for several more minutes, forcing herself to note the various protests and sides the lords were taking. That would be important information for her to know going forward.
Near the door at the back of the room, Thaddeus lingered in the shadows. He, too, would be making the same notes, likely with far more political astuteness.
After another moment, she lifted a hand. “Silence, please.”
It took long moments for the lords to quiet and retake their seats.
Her heart pounded harder as she looked out over the crowd. This was it. “Thank you for your concerns, gentlemen. But as it happens, I am already married.”
After a heartbeat of stunned silence, most of the lords jumped to their feet again, the shouting and protesting starting up all over again. They were no more happy to have been denied their chance at the throne by her than they had been by Lord Sarlon.
This time, Adeline raised her hand and her voice right away, cutting them off. “Silence.”
When the lords finally subsided to a semblance of calm, a low muttering still filled the hall.
Lord Sarlon faced her with barely contained fury suffusing his face. “To whom are you married?”
