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“It’s just an idea,” I tell him. “I’ll ask around, see if it’s possible.”
He lifts his mask up enough to grin at me.
Shit. I’ve given him hope.
I look at Hanna. She’s grinning too. It’s like they’ve both won already.
“Careful,” I warn them. “If you push my generous mood too much, I might toss the both of you into the oubliette.”
“Ideal threats,” Tuonen says.
I ignore him. I get changed behind the divider, then go into the Hall of Skulls to select my mask for the match. Since I haven’t made a public appearance in the City of Death in a very long time, I have to be particular, choosing one that makes me look the most fearsome.
In keeping with the color theme, I choose a red one made from the dyed bones of the northern crocodiles. There’s a pair of iron spikes for horns, a reptilian ridge over the brow bones, scales etched under the cheekbones, and fangs protruding from a maniacal grin.
I slip it on and look at Tuonen and Hanna for approval.
Tuonen grins, charmed by it.
Hanna looks repulsed.
Perfect.
I grab my hooded cloak and we start toward the stairs when Hanna suddenly remembers something. She runs into the bedroom and then comes out moments later adjusting her dress.
I give her an inquisitive look.
“Sorry,” she says. “I forgot my knife and sunmoonstone.”
“Where did you put them?” Tuonen asks, looking her over.
She smiles proudly and is about to lift up the layers of her skirt, but I reach out and grab her wrist. Not necessary, I tell her silently.
“She has a holster on her leg,” I say to him. Even with his face covered he still looks disappointed that he didn’t get a peep show of my wife. “Selenite knife for protection and a sunmoonstone for light.”
“Did Vipunen give you the knife?” Tuonen asks. “I tried the selenite, but it doesn’t cut for me.”
She shakes her head. “No. Actually, your father did. If it were up to Vipunen, I’d be dragging a sword to the Bone Match for protection. I keep feeling like I’m going to need it.”
I squeeze her hand in mine as we go down the stairs to the main floor. “Nothing to be nervous about, my dear.”
“Who said I was nervous?” she asks, but it’s written all over her face.
Everyone has gathered in the formal dining room and the Deadhand guards stationed outside part to let us in.
At the long table everyone is already seated and the banquet table is filled with food, Pyry and the other Deadmaidens coming in and out of the kitchen with trays of glorious food in their hands.
The doors close behind us and my son and I take off our masks, able to be ourselves around the present company.
I have my seat at one end of the table but as this is Hanna’s first time sitting at a formal dinner, I lead her over to her chair at the opposite end. She sits down on the iron throne and then looks up at me with anxious eyes. I give her shoulder a reassuring pat and then head down to my end.
Tuonen takes his seat beside me, then there’s Tapio on the other side, then Mielikki, Tellervo, and Kalma. Sarvi is closest to Hanna. Obviously, the unicorn doesn’t have a seat but he’s standing there all the same. Tellervo keeps on staring at the unicorn with child-like glee and I realize she’s never been to dinner here before. It usually takes a bit for new guests to get used to an equine dining at the table with them.
Wine is poured in the goblets and Tuonen gets to his feet, holding out his glass.
“I know my father is usually the one making these speeches, but I thought I would beat him to it,” he says, looking at everyone. “I wanted to say a special welcome to our new queen, Hanna, since this is her first big dinner as queen, and definitely her first Bone Match as one. It’s an important night and I’m very happy she’s here to share it with us.”
Hmmm. Tuonen’s speech was rather touching. I’ve never heard him be sentimental before. I have a feeling he’s sucking up to me because Hanna put the idea of getting another ferryman in his head.
I clap, along with everyone else and we all toast to Hanna, who smiles demurely at the opposite end of the table. Her pale cheeks flush with embarrassment which makes my dick twitch. Fuck. I should have taken her while I had the chance; I’m going to be uncomfortably turned-on all night if she’s going to continue to look so ravishing.
The food comes out and everyone tucks in. It tastes especially good tonight. There are plates of gold melon cooked in fried moose strips, roast chestnut stew with ice pumpkins and baby apples, an oven-baked snow pheasant stuffed with mountain rye, cliff turnips and flowers from the garden. Chestnut ale and juniper lager are flowing, along with the sweetvine wines and shots of cardamom liquor as a palette-cleanser. There’s even a side dish of rice that I had one of my helpers smuggle from the Upper World. Try as they might, the Deadmaidens still haven’t figured out how to properly grow rice in Tuonela.
