Chapter 336: Room for Three?

Adriana was not beside us when I woke.

Her place beneath the blankets remained warm.

For a moment, I thought she had gone to check the guards again.

Then I heard Evelyn speaking softly beyond the washroom door.

“Slowly. There is no hurry.”

I sat up.

Adriana answered, but the words dissolved into another miserable sound.

By the time I reached them, Evelyn had gathered her hair away from her face and placed a cool cloth against the back of her neck.

Adriana looked up at me.

“Don’t.”

I stopped.

“Don’t what?”

“Look as though someone has attacked the castle.”

I tried to alter my expression.

Evelyn noticed the effort.

“Water,” she said.

That gave me something useful to do.

Adriana rinsed her mouth and sat on the low stool beside the basin. Her face was pale. One hand rested against her stomach.

“Was it supper?” I asked.

“Perhaps.”

She did not sound convinced.

Evelyn knelt in front of her.

“Has this happened before today?”

Adriana looked down.

“Yesterday was only a little nausea.”

“And before that?”

“I thought I was tired.”

Something changed in the silence.

Evelyn glanced at me.

Then returned her attention to Adriana.

“May I examine you?”

Adriana nodded.

My wife took her hands.

The gold around Evelyn’s eyes brightened gently.

Adriana watched her face with a concentration that made my chest tighten.

After a while, Evelyn’s expression softened.

“I would like Aurelia to confirm what I am sensing.”

Adriana closed her eyes.

“Oh.”

I sat down beside her.

“Adriana?”

“We aren’t married yet.”

The words came out very quietly.

Evelyn kept hold of her hands.

“We know.”

Adriana looked from her to me.

“I didn’t mean for—”

She stopped.

I put my arm around her shoulders.

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“People will count.”

I understood then.

Not only the sickness.

Not only the possibility of a child.

Courtiers with calendars. Ambassadors with carefully concerned voices. People willing to make a woman’s happiness sound like evidence against her.

Evelyn moved onto Adriana’s other side.

“First,” she said, “we find out. Then we decide what we want to do.”

Adriana leaned against us.

I held the cup while she took another small drink.

Aurelia came before breakfast.

She asked questions, listened to Evelyn’s findings, and examined Adriana only after being invited to do so.

Then she sat back.

Her smile began slowly.

“Yes.”

Adriana’s fingers tightened around mine.

“You’re certain?”

“There is a new life beginning.”

For a moment, I heard nothing else.

The morning sounds beyond our windows continued.

A cart crossed the courtyard.

Someone called for a gate keeper.

A door closed farther down the passage.

Inside our room, everything seemed to have become very still.

“A baby,” I said.

Adriana gave a small, unsteady laugh.

“That is usually what it means.”

Evelyn laughed too.

Then Adriana began to cry.

My joy faltered into alarm until she pressed my hand against her cheek.

“I’m happy,” she whispered. “I am. I just thought there would be a wedding first.”

Evelyn kissed her forehead.

“We can still have a wedding.”

Aurelia watched us with the patient expression of someone who knew better than to fill every silence.

Adriana drew a breath.

“Is everything all right?”

“Nothing in this examination gives me reason for alarm,” Aurelia said. “It is early. We will continue caring for you as we would for anyone beginning a pregnancy.”

No declaration about a child’s future domain.

No prediction of impossible power.

For once, I was grateful for how little we knew.

I looked at Adriana.

“How do you feel?”

She considered the question.

“Sick.”

“Apart from that.”

Her hand settled over mine.

“Happy,” she said again, more firmly this time.

Evelyn rested her head against Adriana’s.

I kissed them both.

We had barely managed a little breakfast when Mary knocked.

She did not open the door until I answered.

“Aurethar and Melody are asking for you and Thor. They say the reports should not wait.”

The warmth of the room seemed suddenly fragile.

Adriana saw my expression.

“Go.”

“We haven’t—”

“We will still be here when you return.”

Evelyn nodded.

“I am staying with her for now. Send for us if the council needs us.”

I looked at Mary.

“Could you ask Mirelle to come?”

Adriana caught my sleeve.

“Tell her I asked. She’ll be frightened if you send a summons.”

Mary’s eyes moved between us.

She asked no questions.

“Of course.”

Before I left, Adriana drew me back for another kiss.

“Come back with something better than that face.”

“I’ll try.”

Aurethar stood in his human form beside the map table.

Melody was already there.

Her ears were held back, and a folded cloth lay beneath one of her hands.

Thor arrived a few steps ahead of me.

“What happened?” she asked.

Aurethar did not offer a reassuring beginning.

“The attacks have spread beyond the human kingdoms.”

Melody unfolded the cloth.

Inside lay a broken strip of dark metal, curved as though it had once encircled a wrist.

Small marks covered its inner surface.

I recognized the severity of the pattern before I recognized any individual sign.

Order.

Authority imposed upon movement.

“Othellos?”

“His soldiers are fighting beside Surtr’s,” Melody said. “Not only passing information. They are taking part in the attacks.”

She laid out the reports.

An elven woodland settlement burned after its defenders were driven toward a road held by court soldiers.

A dwarven outpost cut off while fire troops attacked the surface works and Othellos’s officers seized the refugees leaving through the lower passages.

Beastfolk communities struck along routes that had previously been considered too remote to matter.

“These came from separate witnesses,” Melody continued. “Eliza has begun checking their routes and dates. Two saw the same court insignia.”

Thor touched the table with both hands.

“And the restraint?”

“A rabbitfolk woman escaped with a caravan. A smith cut this from her after its working was damaged during the flight.”

Melody’s voice remained steady.

That made it worse.

“She saw elves, dwarves, and beastfolk driven into fighting ranks beneath Surtr’s banners.”

I stared at the metal.

“Enslaved soldiers.”

“Some bound by workings like this. Others compelled through hostages. Families held behind the lines.”

Thor straightened.

Lightning moved once across her fingers.

She closed her hand around it.

“We need every field commander told.”

“Yes,” I said.

Aurethar waited until we looked toward him.

“There are dragons with Surtr’s army.”

The room seemed smaller.

I sent for Lexander, Eliza, and the Castellan.

By the time they arrived, Aurethar had marked the reported sightings.

One dragon had attacked from above while troops closed the roads below.

Another had been seen guarding an occupied valley.

We did not yet know how many there were.

We did not know which served willingly.

“One witness described metal at the base of a dragon’s neck,” Aurethar said. “That might be armor. It might be something else. I will not name it a binding until we know.”

Lexander looked at the dark strip on the table.

“But it is possible.”

“Yes.”

Eliza asked Melody to repeat the accounts concerning hostages.

Then she changed the instructions being prepared for the field teams.

Where the scouts could distinguish bound ranks from willing attackers, they would report it. We would look for handlers, captives, and routes by which people might escape.

Nobody suggested our soldiers should allow themselves to be killed while trying to decide whether the person striking at them had a choice.

Nobody wanted ignorance to become an excuse for never trying to find out.

Caldris and Thesra would examine the broken restraint with the Castellan. Maelin would assist if the working touched memory.

Not on a person.

Not in the infirmary.

We had learned enough about Othellos’s inventions to keep unknown ones away from those already recovering.

The Castellan studied Aurethar’s markings.

“I will review the aerial defenses.”

“Both cities,” Lexander said.

“I will send the findings through the gate for Concordia’s defenders.”

Aurethar placed one hand upon the table.

“There is something else I wish to do.”

He wanted to visit the dragon enclave.

For a moment, nobody answered.

Then Thor nodded.

“Yes.”

Aurethar looked toward me and Lexander.

“They need to hear what is happening from one of their own. I want to ask them to stand with Greykeep and Concordia.”

“Will they?” I asked.

“Some may. Others will argue that remaining apart has protected them.”

He looked at the map again.

“I intend to ask how long they expect that to remain true.”

“Do they know you have taken a side?” Lexander asked.

“They know where I live.”

There was enough dry amusement in his voice to remind me who was speaking.

“I would rather arrive with an offer than an accusation,” he continued. “Mutual defense. Shared warnings. Help for any dragons already caught in these attacks. A place in the planning of a war that will reach them whether they acknowledge it or not.”

I nodded.

“You have my support.”

“And mine,” Lexander said.

Melody drew another sheet toward her.

“I want to speak to the other leaders.”

I looked at her.

“The beastfolk?”

“Yes. And the elves and dwarves whose messengers will receive us.”

Her ears lifted slightly.

“There isn’t one throne that speaks for every beastfolk community. There isn’t one agreement that will bring every elven settlement or dwarven hold with it. We need to ask the people who can actually make those decisions.”

Mary, who had joined us quietly, began writing names from the contacts Melody supplied.

“Some will want military support,” Melody continued. “Some will need evacuation routes. Some will have soldiers to offer and nowhere safe to leave their children.”

She touched the broken restraint with the corner of its cloth.

“I want them to know there is a side they can join that will help them get their people back.”

“Our side,” I said.

“Yes.”

Thor’s expression softened briefly.

“Take an escort.”

“I was intending to.”

“And someone who can carry messages while you keep moving.”

“I was intending that too.”

Mary looked at Thor.

“She has brought a proposed delegation.”

Melody slid the final page across the table.

Thor read it.

Then smiled despite herself.

“Good.”

We did not send them out that afternoon.

Aurethar had been an important part of the home defense. His absence required more than wishing him well at the gate.

Baldr and Rauth would remain available to the cities during the first stage of his journey. The field rotations would be adjusted. I would limit my own departures until we knew the defenses could hold without the dragon overhead.

Istren would help review the watch positions against aerial attack. The Castellan would coordinate the work with Concordia’s existing defenders.

Melody’s delegation would travel first to leaders with whom we had confirmed contact. Further meetings would depend upon their answers and the safety of the routes.

We prepared letters bearing both kingdoms’ recognition of the envoys.

Invitations to cooperate.

Specific offers of help.

No demand that anyone abandon their own gods or rulers to receive it.

The documents would take time.

So would the arguments awaiting our envoys.

I wished diplomacy could move at the speed of lightning.

Then I remembered how often lightning struck the wrong thing when hurried.

The calendar caught my attention after the meeting.

Mary had spread it beside the proposed delegation schedule.

April twenty-eighth.

One month until my birthday.

May twenty-eighth had once meant something simple.

Now I looked at the date and thought about burned woodland, captured families, and a dragon forced—or willing—to descend upon people who had no shelter from it.

“We should cancel the celebration,” I said.

Mary’s pen stopped.

“Which parts?”

“All of it.”

She set the pen down.

“You may want to discuss that with your family.”

“I don’t feel like being celebrated while this is happening.”

“That is what you should tell them.”

She did not argue.

Somehow that made it harder to remain certain.

When I returned to our rooms, Mirelle was sitting beside Adriana.

Evelyn occupied the other side of the couch.

All three looked up.

Mirelle stood and embraced me.

I had not expected that.

“You know?” I asked.

“My daughter asked me to come.”

Over her shoulder, Adriana smiled nervously.

Mirelle drew back enough to examine my face.

“Are you happy?”

“Very.”

“Then tell her again. Worry is louder than happiness this morning.”

I sat beside Adriana and did exactly that.

We spoke to the family that evening.

Not in the council chamber.

Not beneath banners.

In the family room, after the younger children had been taken to their bedtime routines.

Helena sat beside Garrick Valewood. Mirelle remained close to Adriana. Cassia occupied the arm of a chair until her mother made her sit properly.

Julian came in carrying his book, then set it aside when he saw our faces.

Io and Lexander stayed after hearing the war reports. Lisbeth joined them. Aurelia sat near the hearth.

Adriana told them herself.

For a heartbeat, everyone was quiet.

Then Helena rose.

Mirelle made room for her without being asked.

Cassia put both hands over her mouth.

Julian looked at his sister.

“A baby?”

“Yes.”

He thought about that.

“Another one.”

Garrick Valewood made a sound that might have been a laugh.

Adriana’s smile became easier.

“Eventually. Not tomorrow.”

“Good,” Julian said solemnly. “I would need more plates.”

That broke the room’s stillness.

Even Adriana laughed without trembling.

Evelyn kept hold of her hand throughout the congratulations.

When everyone had settled again, Adriana looked down at their joined fingers.

“There is something else.”

Helena waited.

“We haven’t held the wedding.”

Cassia opened her mouth.

Mirelle touched her knee.

Adriana continued.

“I know what people will say. Not everyone. But enough.”

“People have already had opinions about three rings,” Evelyn said. “We don’t have to arrange our lives around every one of them.”

“I know.”

Adriana’s eyes filled again.

“But I don’t want to spend the next months listening to people pretend they are concerned about the child when they mean to humiliate me.”

I moved closer.

“Then we bring the wedding forward.”

She looked at me.

“Because of this?”

“Because I already wanted to marry you. Because Evelyn does too. And because you shouldn’t have to wait through another season of everyone else’s emergencies before we keep that promise.”

Evelyn lifted Adriana’s hand and kissed it.

“I would like to marry you before we become too occupied arguing about nursery furniture.”

Adriana laughed wetly.

“Eleanor will refuse again.”

“Perrin will offer hinges,” I said.

Cassia groaned.

“Then we must hurry.”

My birthday entered the discussion because Helena asked what I had told Mary.

I should have known Mary would mention it.

“I don’t want a great celebration,” I said. “Not with what we learned today.”

Lexander rested his forearms on his knees.

“A smaller one is possible.”

“People are losing their homes.”

“Some of them are living in ours now.”

He glanced toward the corridor where the children had gone.

“They will still have birthdays.”

Garrick Valewood nodded.

“We can be careful with the expense. We can keep the meal simple. But refusing to sit with your family on your birthday will not put out a fire.”

I looked at Adriana.

Her hand rested lightly against her stomach.

“I feel guilty,” I admitted.

“Then let us help with that,” Evelyn said. “Don’t make it a rule for everyone else.”

I sat quietly for a while.

Then nodded.

“Something small.”

Helena accepted that before anyone could enlarge it.

“And the wedding before May twenty-eighth,” Mirelle said. “If that is what all three of you want.”

Adriana looked at Evelyn.

Then at me.

“It is.”

“Yes,” Evelyn said.

“Yes,” I answered.

Mary was invited in.

She arrived with a folder.

Of course she did.

“You kept the schedules,” I said.

“You hid them badly.”

Mary laid three revised options on the table.

Not twelve.

War had narrowed even her ambitions.

We chose May fourteenth.

Two weeks away.

Two weeks before my birthday.

There would be a ceremony in Greykeep, witnessed by our family, our friends, and representatives who could attend without abandoning necessary duties.

The city could share a meal through the existing kitchens. We would not take builders from refugee housing to construct temporary pavilions.

There would be flowers if there were flowers to spare.

Music if someone wished to play.

Adriana would choose her own clothes.

Cassia insisted upon helping and was immediately warned against adding concealed weapon pockets without asking.

She looked offended by the restriction.

Mary reviewed the legal arrangements carefully.

Evelyn and I were already married. That marriage would remain. The ceremony would honor our existing vows as we made the shared promises that would welcome Adriana as wife to both of us.

Her place and responsibilities in the ruling household would be written plainly before the day arrived.

Mirelle listened closely to that part.

Then she looked at her daughter.

“A wedding cannot prevent every cruel person from speaking.”

Adriana nodded.

“I know.”

“But nobody here believes you have done something shameful.”

My future wife looked around the room.

Helena held her gaze.

Garrick Valewood nodded.

Cassia reached across to take her free hand.

Julian leaned against Mirelle, watching with worried attention until Adriana smiled at him.

“May fourteenth,” she said.

Mary wrote it down.

This time, nobody hid the schedule.

Later, after the family had gone, I stood beside the window with the two women I loved.

Beyond the glass, Havenreach’s lamps shone along streets that had not existed when I first came to Greykeep.

Aurethar was preparing to speak to dragons.

Melody was preparing to ask scattered peoples to stand with us.

Surtr had gained new soldiers.

Othellos had stopped pretending his court stood apart from the burning.

None of it had become smaller because we chose a wedding date.

Adriana leaned against me.

“Are we being foolish?”

“About which part?”

“Making plans.”

Evelyn turned toward her.

“We made plans before we knew about the baby.”

“The war is worse now.”

“Yes.”

There was no easy answer hidden behind that word.

I placed my hand over Adriana’s, where it rested against her stomach.

“I’m afraid too,” I said.

She looked up at me.

“But I want the wedding. I want the child. I want a morning when the most urgent problem is finding another small shoe.”

Evelyn smiled.

“You will regret asking for that one.”

“Almost certainly.”

Adriana laughed softly.

Then she took Evelyn’s hand and drew it beneath mine.

Our unfinished rings touched.

For the first time, there was a day chosen for the promises they carried.

May fourteenth.

Adriana whispered the date once before we went to bed.