Page 18 of The Ivory King (Crowns of Melowynn #2)

Three Summer Seasons Later

THE HEAT WAS OVERWHELMING IN THE SUN , but we had found a shaded glen to spread our blankets on the ground.

“Surely Widow Poppy has over-prepared,” V’alor said as he lifted parcels of food wrapped in soft green hibiscus leaves from a huge hamper. “Does she think we are feeding the entire king’s guard?”

I stretched out my legs, the sound of laughter down by the small frog pond rolling up the knoll to where my beloved and I were setting up an impromptu picnic. The summer songs of bees on the wing, birds in the trees, and the shouts and splashes of children in water helped to ease my shoulders from my ears. Tension was my constant companion now that I was the ruler of these glorious lands. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Pasil leaning against a tree, always within shouting range, his presence easing some of the weight of the crown.

“She knows full well how much you, the guards, and the wild ones will consume after a day in the pond,” I replied and got a sly smirk from the commander of the king’s guard. A position that my stubborn husband just recently relented into accepting. As commander, he was no longer at my side. That duty fell to Pasil now. V’alor had his own duties to attend to as a royal consort. Most of them he mumbled over but accepted as part of being wed to me. The happy shouts grew closer. “Speaking of the wild ones…”

A small pack of sodden elves and a waterlogged human appeared racing up the knoll. I laughed at the sight of my queen and Merrilyn soaked through their shifts, Kenton and Beirich both sopping wet, and my children, who looked like soggy river otters, ran full bore at us. Tezen streaked ahead of them all, her purple wings a blur as the guardian of the twin heirs of Melowynn giggled madly. We could not have found a better guard for the children, for Tezen was lighthearted yet protective as a wolverine. The only downside was that our heirs repeated many things that a young royal should not be saying. But other than a few tawdry comments, Tezen was a perfect choice.

The children did not stop when they reached the blanket. Alfina, my rambunctious daughter, threw herself at V’alor—she and he had quite the bond—and my son Al’fur snuggled into me, his wet swimming shorts soaking my casual trousers instantly. I wrapped my arms around the boy, inhaling the smell of pond water and his lemon bath soap as he burrowed into my chest.

“Papa, we saw a red heron,” Alfina informed us as Raewyn and Merrilyn sat on the edges of our blanket, winded and pink from the bright sun on their fair skin, and began rubbing at their exposed arms with soft linen toweling.

“It was a scarlet heron,” Kenton gently corrected his student. “And what did we see the heron doing?” He plopped down beside his spouse, his long white braids dripping wet. Beirich reached over to gather the plaits and tenderly wring them out.

“It fished with a long beak,” Alfina informed us all. She was quite vocal for her age of two and a half seasons. Al’fur was less chatty but just as inquisitive. He pointed at the plate of honey cakes V’alor had just uncovered.

“Not until you have some vegetables from Kenton’s garden,” I whispered to my son. He pouted but was happy enough to chew on some crisp celery when his mother handed him a stalk. The twins were the joy of all of our lives and kept the entire staff of Avolire busy throughout the day. Their nanny, a sister of the steppes named Vilde, had been given the day off so that we could have this small outing as a family. The old sister was having trouble keeping up with two rambunctious mischief-makers. And yes, Kenton and Beirich were considered family. Brothers in all the ways that mattered.

“He has your sweet tooth,” V’alor said as Alfina regaled us with the heron and the frog that she tried to catch as well as many other important announcements including the warm water, the dragonfly that landed on her brother’s head—at this, Al’fur nodded and patted his golden head—and a small fish that was blue with green dots. Kenton used the fish as a way to teach the children about the native fish of Melowynn.

“Someday we should bring Umeris along on one of our outings,” Raewyn said as we started nibbling on honey cakes. A bee found us and began flying about in search of where the honey smell was coming from. Tezen shoved the bee away from her charges, who were now lying in the grass with honey smeared over their round faces and up to their elbows. My son was on his fourth honey cake as he pointed at something in the sky.

“He would be hard-pressed to make the walk,” I said, wiping my sticky fingers on a damp cloth Merrilyn had passed to me. “His days of gallivanting are over.”

We all grew quiet. My grandfather, one of two of my most trusted advisors, was slowly growing decrepit. His mind was as sharp as a dagger still, thankfully, but his body was diminishing. He and Fylson served me well, always at my side through difficult times, but it was obvious to me that Umeris would soon have to be in a wheelchair like Bonnalure.

My thoughts flew to the Mossbells who had retreated from court after the attempt on my life by their family member. I’d had to pass judgment on Bonnalure. There were nights that I woke up, covered in a cold sweat, the sad memory of watching a woman I had grown up with—and had felt a strong affection for—being led into the deepest dungeons below Avolire to live out her life in imprisonment was vivid and fresh in my thoughts. Her mother and brothers visited her weekly, but her mind was falling in on itself according to the healers that I insisted treat her as best they could. Healers attending those in the dungeons was one of my first rulings as king. I could not sleep in my ridiculous bedchamber when I knew elves were sick and dying beneath me. Even the criminal and addled should be given basic healing. I would do no less for a horse or dog, so why would I allow an elf to die of something preventable? That was just one of many controversial laws that I had set down in my time holding the scepter.

Many had called for Bonnalure’s death, those on my own council among the loudest voices shouting for her head for attempted regicide, but I could not bring myself to slay a woman who was beset with mental instability. Perhaps, and this was one of the faults that those who did not like me on the throne cited, I was not cruel enough. I was too soft. Mayhap. I preferred to think that empathy for those who were suffering a sickness of the mind was a good thing.

“Then we shall make a point to take the children to visit him daily,” Raewyn said, pulling me from my mental wander. I nodded. Umeris was a cantankerous bastard, but he loved his great-grandchildren dearly. “I’d like to see him a few more times before I head to the harbor of Knight’s Way to see and christen the new boats for our navy.”

“I wish I could go with you, but we need to attend a summit in the Witherhorn with the dwarves about the expansion of their mining operations. The fisherfolk of Lake Tolso are saying the mining is leeching into their waters,” I explained to Beirich, who had just returned from a visit with the wood elves in the Verboten woods.

“Anything tainting the water needs to be investigated thoroughly,” the handsome druid stated, getting a nod from his husband at his side. “We would gladly go with you, Your Highness, in case the water needs magicks to help clear the mining spill off.”

“That would be wonderful. Why do we not send you two ahead with Beiro to Lake Tolso? I believe he is at the castle now after returning from a recent expedition to the Lake Falomar region to aid in mapping out the tundra.” I glanced at V’alor to verify. He knew where most everyone of import was at any given time. I could barely keep track of myself most days.

“He has just returned. His appointment to the king’s exploratory commission was a good one,” V’alor said before taking a sip of dark red wine from a simple wooden cup. We tried not to have glass anywhere near the twins.

“Papa, may we go see the badger den?” Al’fur asked from his spot lying atop flattened yellow daisies. I glanced at Kenton with a soft smile.

“Mama Badger and her kits are probably not in the den that we know so well. They travel and sleep in many different places, but if your parents allow it, we can certainly check the den under the yellow pine blowdown,” Kenton replied.

I’d not been to see the badger den in years. I stood up, wiped my hands on my breeches, and grinned at my family all spread out around me.

“I would love to visit the badger den,” I announced and scooped up my giggling son as V’alor swept our daughter off her dirty bare feet and into his arms.

Days such as this were few and far between for the ivory king of Melowynn. I could think of no better way to spend the rest of the afternoon than wiggling under a dead tree to snoop on a stinky badger den with my children, my friends, and my beloved V’alor. “Last one to the blowdown is a stink bug!”

Off we all ran, giggles floating to the puffy white clouds.