Page 77 of Boundless
From there things moved much too quickly, and it seemed like he blinked and found himself out on the balcony that overlooked the front lawn, where citizens from the city and the horde both were gathered to hear him speak. It wasn’t the whole horde, thank the gods, but he spied many familiar faces—generals, trade leaders, Yollyn and Maleom, and Gero among them. He was soaking wet with fear sweat, but Daega's hand on his shoulder and the soft burbles of his son in her other arm eased the tight clench in his chest. He felt lightheaded, but he'd been able to get some of Yollyn's special elixir, and it was keeping him out of a faint.
Head Councilor Gildwallaen was speaking, addressing the crowd and informing them of the sad fact of the king's passing and the happier fact of Len's ascension. He saw no sign of his father's new wife in the small crowd assembled on the balcony, and he wondered idly where she might be.
Then he was pulled forward, the voice-amplifying stone the council member had been using shoved into his hand, and then every eye down below was on him.
He was trembling badly, his throat spasming with nerves, but Daega's hand on his shoulder moved to his back, stroking smoothly, soothingly, like she had a lifetime ago when they were strangers trussed up and standing at an altar. He took one breath, then two, and began.
"My kingdom. My people. M-my family," he began, managing a weak smile. "Th-though we may mourn today for the loss of our b-beloved king Haedelon Felthenethor, we also look t-to the bright future he so s-selflessly and heroically began sowing in the f-final years of his reign." Len sucked in a breath, leaning back into his wife's caress. "The peace treaty between elves and Istarii D-Drakan is an incredible legacy, and one I know my f-father w-was very proud of." It was all lies, tasting bitter on his tongue, but it was what the people needed to hear.
"I'm sure that if my father had a-any regrets at his time of passing," Len continued, turning to take Drokas from Daega, "it is that he did n-not have a chance to meet his grandson, Prince Drokas d'Gayeh-Felthenethor, who was traveling b-behind me with the bulk of the horde for his presentation to his g-grandfather and the Council. But I am proud to present my son to you, m-my people, now. May my father rest in eternal peace, c-certain in the good he did for the r-realm."
From there, it was rote recitation: he spoke the ancient elvish speech of the heir, accepting his father's crown in place of his own from the council, and his father's new wife finally made an appearance to drape him in the ceremonial shawl representing the burden of leadership settling on his shoulders. The last bit of the ceremony was the council gathering at his back to present him officially to the people at King Lenlethael Felthenetor, sovereign of the Llyvelli elves and king-consort of the Istarii Drakan horde.
The cheer that rose vibrated the stone beneath his feet, Daega’s big warm presence at his side and his son laughing and squealing in his arms.
EPILOGUE
DAEGA
FIVE YEARSlater
Council meetings were no longer horrible slogging affairs, thanks in no small part to the Istarii Drakan contingent that sat upon it now.
It had started as a wish spoken idly; Len had bemoaned the extra work that went into governing two separate people, since her parents insisted upon her and Len staying involved with the management of the horde. There'd been some talk from her parents that when it came time for them to step down that they wanted Len and Daega to take their place, now that the elves were going to be a consideration beyond an enemy, and one night while Daega had been sunk into Len to the hilt she'd connected those dots and interrupted their lovemaking to pose the proposition: what if theyweren'ttwo separate nations?
Len had been frustrated by her timing, pouting and begging for her to finish him off before she got too excited about her Shiny New Idea, but once she'd taken care of him he was much more amenable.
It only made sense—they both shared the land of Istarii, and with the war over, more intermingling was happening all the time. Frankly, the speed with which everyone had gone from seeing each other as enemies to potential lovers was staggering, and perhaps even a little suspicious, but she was glad for it. It made it a lot easier to propose the merger.
The old elvish council resisted, of course, but Len had made her unspeakably proud, standing his ground and making his case loudly and proudly. He was back up to a healthy weight, though still her sweet, dainty little morsel, and his fainting spells were much better controlled, between Granny's elixirs and his decision to prioritize his needs. If he needed to sit, he did it. If he needed a snack, he had one. If he needed a nap, he took it, and everyone just had to accept it.
It was damned sexy.
Drokas was nearly five years old now, and was a right terror just like his mum. When they were at the castle, the staff was always finding him crammed into odd little nooks and crannies, waiting to come upon some poor unsuspecting staffer and scare the piss out of them. But he was also as sweet as his father, and if he went too far he was quick to apologize and make it right, doling out hugs and kind words in droves.
"Mum, are you still taking me out hunting today with Grandda?" he asked her, wriggling in anticipation at the breakfast table. "You've been promising all week and I'm eager."
"I know, love," she sighed, scrubbing her hand over her face. She was fuckingtiredthese last few days. "And it's not fair I've kept you waiting. But I needed to check in on something, and now I've got to find your father to tell him about it. Can you give me a wee bit more time?"
Drokas made an irritated little whine at the back of his throat, but he nodded morosely. "Iguess," he muttered, picking at his food. But then he brightened, turning to her with such a beaming smile she couldn't stop the one spreading over her own face. "Can I help find him?"
She chuckled, grabbing the boy's hand and squeezing. "Aye, but you're not to be a menace. If he's in a meeting what do you do?"
The boy sighed, rolling his green eyes, just like his father's. "I know, Mum. I'm not a babby anymore."
"Aye, but you're also the very same lad who hid in the linen closet not an hour ago and scared Marieth half to death when she went to put away the laundry, are you not?"
"IsaidI was sorry!"
"And I know you are. But when you get excited you get a boon of energy and don't always use it appropriately. I know you mean no harm, but sometimes harm is done anyway. And the fires your da tends are still new and in need of a careful hand. So if you find him in a meeting..."
"...I'll be quiet and wait my turn."
She stood, kissing his cheek, still clinging to its baby fat. "Good lad. Let's check the council chambers first, then."
They found Len in one of the smaller meeting rooms, listening to a presentation from a trade guild representative, and they slipped in and took seats beside Len's quietly. He spared them both a warm smile and a kiss, then turned his full attention back to the person speaking on the virtues of hiring a member of the fledgling Questing Guild on retainer to protect the caravans leaving Istarii. Len took her hand, holding it on his knee and stroking her skin with his thumb, because he was still her sweetling, even though he had also blossomed into a fine king.
Once the meeting was over, he turned to her and pulled Drokas into his lap, cuddling his son close. "It's so good t-to see you both," he told them, "though I wasn't expecting it. I thought y-you had an appointment today, dearest?"
