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“Excellent.”
Queen Menthe looked at her husband. “We will need to rush the Dressing of the Bride.”
Prince Aldaren nodded. “Yes, we will have to. I’ll start making the arrangements right away.” He looked at me. “The bride’s family traditionally designs and creates the wedding dress. But Queen Laylath has offered to design and create your dress for you.”
The Queen Mother always had a good eye for fashion. I inclined my head. “Thank you, Your Majesties. I would be honored.”
The political significance of the gesture was not lost on anyone in the room. For the Queen Mother to design and create my wedding dress was a sign that she fully accepted me as her future granddaughter-in-law. The rest of Manzimor would soon follow suit.
Chapter 20
The Gilded Prince
The tomb of Finardel was sober, as befitting for the resting place of a dead king. The light from the sun reflected through the water and into the tomb. I paused at the entrance, my hand on Prince Maedras’s arm. His arm shook, whether from nerves or the cold, I couldn’t tell. They buried the Good King in the center of the room, his sword and shield placed at his feet. Around him, the tombs of his Elite Guard arrayed, those who gave up their lives to protect him.
Prince Maedras kneeled before the wooden ship, his forehead touching the ground. I placed my hand on his back, offering what little comfort I could. The air in the room was thick with grief, and I felt the weight of it pressing down on me.
After a moment, Prince Maedras rose to his feet and turned to me. His eyes were wet, but he did not shed a tear.
“I wished to apologize to you, wife. For not-”
“There’s no need to apologize to me,” I interrupted him. “Not in front of the dead. There is a better time for it.”
I wondered why he invited me here, but this explained it to me. He wanted to show me something about his life.
“You’re right, as always,” he said, turning back to the tomb.
Wanting to show my respect for the fallen King, I took a step forward. I placed my hands on the wood of the ship, feeling the roughness under my fingertips. I bowed my head and said a silent prayer for Finardel.
May he find peace in the afterlife.
Prince Maedras placed his hand on the tomb. His eyes were closed, and his lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. After a moment, he opened his eyes and looked at me.
Behind the ship, I spotted a bas-relief from a tree. It was carved into the stone, and its leaves were inlaid with gold. I stood before it, my hand tracing the lines of the carving.
“This is beautiful,” I said, turning to Prince Maedras. “Did your grandfather request it?”
“No.” He stood next to me. “The artist who designed the tomb made it. He said that it represented the tree of life and that it would watch over him in death.”
I looked back at the carving, studying it intently. There was something familiar about it. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it nagged at the back of my mind.
“What is it?” Prince Maedras asked, sensing my unease.
“I’m not sure,” I replied. “There’s something about this carving that I can’t quite remember.”
“Elvish hearth casters use it to remember the lives of those who had passed on.” Prince Maedras placed his hand on the carving. His fingers almost touched mine, and I removed my hand from the carvings.
I shook my head, still trying to remember where I had seen it before. And then it hit me. Back home at the library, in the book on funeral rites. I had seen it there.
“I know what it is.” I turned to Prince Maedras. “It’s a mangrove tree.”
“What?” he asked, confusion clear on his face. “We used these trees for our ships in the past.”
“A mangrove tree,” I repeated. “It’s used in sea magic.”
“Sea magic?” he echoed.
I nodded. “Yes. I read about it. It’s used in funeral rites to honor the dead.”
