Page 15 of Once the Skies Fade (Immortal Reveries #2)

Chapter 15

Calla

F or the second time in my life, I needed to choose a husband.

Last time, I only had three suitors to choose from—one from each of the other kingdoms on Sandurdam, and it had been a relatively easy choice. While I wasn’t opposed to the idea of fae and humans marrying, the men from Kinham and Wrenwick had little to offer compared to Brennan. Brennan, despite his licentious reputation, had stolen my heart from the moment we met on my first visit to Emeryn. Of course, I had heard rumors that he’d been in love with some human on his palace staff, but Lieke later told me the entire story of how she and Connor had found themselves bound by fate.

The mating bond had not been in the stars for Brennan and me, though it had never bothered me before. I had known plenty of happily married couples who were tied by their vows alone, such as my parents.

Stars, I missed them.

My mother and father would have helped me navigate this. But then, if they were still here, I wouldn’t be in this predicament at all.

Graham, thankfully, had cut the meeting short after Ursula’s declaration, and both he and Isa had left me alone to think things through. Now my feet ached from the hours of pacing my study after the assembly meeting, and I dropped into one of the armchairs, debating whether to pour myself a drink.

“Stars-damned death,” I ground out bitterly. “Death ruins everything.”

“Indeed.” Graham’s silky voice filled the room, and from the corner of my eye, I watched him settle into the other chair beside me. He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees as he studied me for a moment before finally asking, “How are you feeling?”

I slowly pivoted my head toward him, my outrage over this stars-damned marriage nonsense pulling my mouth into a grim line. “Angry,” I admitted.

A humorless laugh fell from my advisor, and he shook his head. “Understandably so. I do apologize that I had forgotten the law. You deserved to hear it from Isa or me, not the Assembly.” He paused, dropping his gaze to the floor. “What do you think you’ll do?”

“I’m not giving up my kingdom, if that’s what you’re asking,” I growled, immediately regretting it. He wasn’t at fault here. He didn’t deserve my ire. I cleared my throat quickly. “I’m sorry, Graham. I shouldn’t have?—”

Graham waved away my apology. “You have every right to be on edge, Your Majesty. You’ve suffered a lot of grief in a short time, and while I know you were determined to start moving on and getting back to some new normal, I understand, too, that this isn’t how you wanted to do that.”

“I don’t want to marry again. I shouldn’t have to.” I winced at how sad and pathetic I sounded. A queen shouldn’t whine about her lot; a queen should stand tall and tackle whatever challenges came her way. If I was to rule my kingdom, to retain my family’s claim to the throne, I needed to push past my fear and face this.

“You shouldn’t have to,” Graham agreed.

“But I do,” I said, resolutely. “My heart may be shattered, but as Ursula noted, my heart doesn’t need to be involved. I cannot risk loving again, but I don’t need to love to remarry.”

Graham shifted to the edge of his chair and clasped his hands together. “If I may, Your Majesty.”

I nodded, but he didn’t say anything more as he avoided meeting my eyes. My stomach writhed like snakes as I pondered what he might be hesitating to say. “What is it, Graham?”

“I’ll do it,” he said, quietly.

The imaginary snakes tied themselves into knots within my gut. “You’ll do what?”

“I’ll marry you, so you don’t have to choose someone new, someone you don’t know. So you don’t have to risk another heartbreak.”

I recoiled and then froze, watching my advisor’s features shift quickly from hopeful to hurt before he released an awkward laugh.

“It’s alright. I didn’t expect you to accept,” he said, though a hint of embarrassment tinged his words, and his cheeks reddened slightly.

“I do appreciate it, Graham. I do,” I said. “But who could I find to replace you as my advisor? Ursula? Warren? No.”

“I shouldn’t have offered, Your Majesty,” he said, pushing to his feet and walking away.

I opened my palm and released my shadows, sending them toward him. They lithely circled his body, forcing him to turn back to face me, but his eyes were on my shadows instead of me. His lip seemed to curl in a sneer, though it was hard to tell with his chin tucked. He finally looked up at me, his eyes alight with something I couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t quite bitterness or anger, nor was it the sheepish awkwardness he’d shown earlier.

“Please let me go,” he said firmly, his tone colder than I’d ever heard from him.

“I didn’t mean to…” I let my words trail off as his eyes darkened. As soon as I pulled my shadows back, freeing him, he turned and rushed out.

No sooner had Graham left than Isa entered.

“Turned him down?” she asked.

I wrinkled my nose at her. “You knew he was going to do that?”

Isa merely shrugged. “I didn’t tell him to, but I didn’t dissuade him either. It seemed a reasonable enough solution, no?”

“I can’t believe this,” I muttered, shaking my head.

Isa strode over, but instead of sitting as Graham had, she planted herself in front of me and leaned back against the edge of my desk, her arms crossed in front of her.

“So, what will you do instead?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“You could always see if Kinham or Wrenwick would?—”

“No,” I snapped. I stared at my friend. How could she—given everything that had happened this past month—suggest I consider marrying a human?

Isa sighed knowingly. “Ah, of course. No humans. I forgot.”

“It has to be a fae.”

“There aren’t any royal fae left on the continent, and I don’t recommend reaching out to Dolobare.”

“No, I wouldn’t do that, not after…” My throat constricted as my parents’ faces appeared in my mind’s eye. Whether the Dolobareans had any hand in their deaths or not, I was as interested in that prospect as I was in considering a human. I swallowed hard and continued. “I will have to find someone in Arenysen.”

“Why not Emeryn?” Isa asked, almost apologetically, but still the word shot a barb into my heart.

Could I choose a new husband from Brennan’s home? Merely thinking about it caused my lungs to compress. Isa lowered her head to one side, and had she been anyone else, I would have resented the pity in her eyes.

“You will be sorely limited if you don’t.”

I waved her away. “How am I even supposed to choose again, Isa?”

She shrugged. “There’s always Gra—” As I groaned, her words gave way to laughter. “Why not consider him?”

Wearily, I nodded. “He’s Graham.”

“You say his name like he’s got some sort of disease,” she said, stifling more laughter.

“I do not. He’s just—he was my parents’ advisor, and practically my brother. I couldn’t.”

For several minutes we were both silent, until Isa finally said, “What about a tournament? Like the old monarchs used to hold.”

I leaned back in my chair and mulled over her suggestion. Little was known about the old trials our ancestors had been fond of. All I remembered from my schooling was they typically involved females being paraded before their rulers and judged on everything from their appearance and poise to their ancestry and breeding potential. The contests had grown out of fashion well before my parents were born, and no one had held one since.

Shooting a curious glance at my friend, I asked, “You want me to host games?”

She shrugged. “Why not?”

I grimaced. “They were little more than beauty pageants. Humiliating and?—”

“Who said you had to model it after the original tradition? You don’t want to pick someone, right?” My throat clenched, closing off my air, so all I could do was shake my head. “Then make them compete.”

“What would they have to do?”

“I’m sure I can come up with a few ideas. I’ve been training our soldiers for years, after all. It can’t be that much harder to devise obstacles to help select a new king. We could call on some friends to help. Asher and his brothers are always eager to earn extra coin.”

“Mercenaries usually are,” I muttered, and my shadows seemed to churn inside me as I mentally picked apart this plan. “This could work, on one condition.”

“What’s that? Don’t want Graham to be eligible?” she asked, a hint of a laugh playing in her eyes.

I scoffed. “Let him compete if he wants to, but I want to be involved. I may not want to choose someone, but I’m not about to forfeit control over the process.”

“Not even to me?” Isa smiled knowingly.

“Not even you, my friend.”