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“I would. As the high queen’s heir, I’ve attended many weddings as her representative,” Astar replied.
“Gen wasn’t late,” Isyn pointed out.
All three of the long-time friends looked at him. “Gen has never been late for anything a day in her entire life,” Rhy said. “I’m surprised you don’t know that about her by now.”
“I did know that,” Isyn replied, not only unoffended, but with a hint of an intimate smile that made Jak wonder at its source. “It’s still a relevant point.”
“Maybe Nilly is afraid to see what Jak’s wearing,” Rhy drawled.
“My suit is spectacular,” Jak informed him, straightening the vest embroidered with a motif of swirling stars in a night sky. The rest of the suit was made of silver cloth, glimmering withlight, his tribute to his personal star. Yes, it was ostentatious, but he thought she’d be pleased. If she showed up.
Isyn handed Jak a coin. “Here, spin this.”
Jak took it with some surprise, nearly protesting that he didn’t need it, but his fingers began tripping the coin in an intricate dance without his consciously deciding to. He did feel better. “Thank you,” he said to Isyn.
The green-eyed mage-king gave him a gentle smile. “In return for the soothing gift you gave me on my wedding day, a memory I treasure along with your friendship.”
Overcome, Jak embraced the man, then Astar and Rhy, also. “I’m grateful you’re all here with me today.”
The door opened and a fully healed and formally dressed Kral stuck his head in, grinning toothily like the shark he was named for. “The bride is finally ready. If you’re sure you want to do this.”
Jak set his jaw. “Yes, I’m sure, Father. Thank you for asking—for the hundredth time.”
Kral shook his head. “A wedding without contracts. Makes no sense to me.”
“Shut up, Kral,” Jepp said ducking under his arm and popping up in front of him, dark eyes sparkling. Jak gaped at his mother. She was wearing an actual dress, all in darker shades of silver, a blend of the traditional Dasnarianklútand a gown of the Thirteen Kingdoms. She even wore a delicate diadem of diamonds and pearls on her short-cropped hair, bright against her dark skin. “Some of Jenna’s jewels,” she told Jak, noticing where his gaze lingered with her keen skills. “It seemed appropriate.”
Jak picked up his mother’s hand and kissed the back of it reverently as he swept a low bow to her. “You look incredible. Thank you for what I know was a severe concession to fashion.”
She waved that off, extracting her hand gently from his and framing his face, her palms warm against his cheeks. “Anything for my boy,” she said softly. “I’m so proud of you. So happy for you.” Her snapping black eyes misted with rare sentiment.
Kral cleared his throat. “Don’t get all soft on me now, hystrix.”
“Hystrix?” Isyn echoed. “Gen has been teaching me Dasnarian, but I don’t know that one.”
“It’s basically a cross between a porcupine and a hedgehog,” Jak told him.
Kral grinned, dragging Jepp back against him. “Tiny, adorable, and prickly, with a tender underbelly.”
Jepp scowled up at Kral, but also melted against him. “Tell your son you’re proud of him.”
“Mom,” Jak protested, “it doesn’t count if you have to force him to.”
Kral released Jepp, then clasped his son by the shoulders. “I’m a hard man,” he acknowledged, ice-blue eyes softer than Jak had ever seen them. “My father was hardly a father to me, and I’ve been… concerned that I couldn’t be a good father to you, my only child.”
“That you know of,” Jepp reminded him, but with quiet emotion.
Kral ignored her, squeezing Jak’s shoulders. “I am more than proud of you, my son. I am overcome, witnessing the man you are today. Someone capable of holding his own with the fiercest shapeshifters and magic workers, someone who’s earned the trust and friendship of the powers of multiple realms. In spite of me, I am proud to say you’ve become one of the most admirable people I know.”
“Because of you, Dad,” Jak corrected, then smiled at Jepp. “Because of both of you.”
“Eh,” Kral tossed Jepp a dubious frown. “Maybe your mother helped.”
“I might not have a dagger on me right now, lunkhead,” she retorted, “but I can still cut your throat in your sleep.”
“With those gnat-stickers?” He hmphed with a grin, then turned back to Jak. “For your wedding gift, we are giving you theHákyrling.”
Jak nearly staggered. Might have, if his father hadn’t been holding his shoulders. “Your ship?” he squeaked unmanfully and had to clear his throat. “You can’t.”
