The Consort, Chapter 3
three weeks later…
“I’m hearing disturbing things out of Flornistan.” Jeb was kicked back in his chair, his feet up on the brand-new coffee table in Cain’s brand-new office in the Spire, where he had been moved, under protest, when the engagement had been announced. He would not be able to serve as Defense Minister once he became Consort, but he hated to be ousted before his time.
Cain frowned. “What kinds of things?” He was reading the reports Jeb had brought in with him, mostly intelligence from the scouting parties along the borders.
“That it’s become the favorite destination for fugitive Longcoats.”
“I know all about that. If they want to leave the country, let them.”
“Did you know they’re working with the Flornish to raise an army and invade?”
That got his attention. “This is reliable information?”
“As reliable as any. I’ve got two men posing as Longcoats inside the Flornish borders. They’re due to make contact in a few days; I ought to have more information by then.” Jeb stood up. “Sorry, I have to run. I’m due back in QC by tomorrow night.”
“Jeb, wait,” Cain said, jumping up as his son started to leave. “You just got here.”
“I know, but I’m expected back, and there’s…”
“I hardly get to see you these days.”
Jeb met his father’s eyes with a flat gaze. “That’s to be expected if you’re going to stay in this palace all the time.”
Cain took a breath. “I have responsibilities here.”
“I know.” Jeb dropped his eyes. “I’ll be on my way. I don’t want to take up any more of the Consort’s time.”
“I’m not the Consort yet,” Cain said, a little too quickly. Jeb said nothing. The silence spun out between them like taffy pulled past its stretching point. Cain cleared his throat. “Will you be attending?” he asked, quietly. He didn’t need to clarify what he was referring to. The wedding was all anyone in the city or in the entire O.Z. could talk about these days. Cain, to his embarrassment, had been mostly hiding in the Spire since the announcement, because whenever he ventured outside, he was mobbed. Photographers, excited citizens, journalists…he felt like the flavor of the month. He was half-dreading the event, but at least once it was done all this hype and hysteria would be over and normal life could resume.
“Do you really want me to?” Jeb asked, an edge to his voice.
“Of course I do. We both do,” Cain amended.
“You both do. Naturally.”
“Jeb, I’ve explained why I…”
Jeb held up a hand. “I know, Dad. I get it. But it’s still a bit strange for me that I’m going to have a stepmother who’s only three years older than I am.”
“It’s no less strange for me, son.” He sighed. “This is all happening so fast. The announcement is made and all of a sudden I have a private office here, and my own staff, and…” He sat down behind his desk again, slumping in the chair. “I said I wasn’t the Consort yet but sometimes it sure feels like I am.”
Jeb sat back down. “You can’t do your old job anymore, Dad. You don’t work for the royal family, you’re one of them.”
“I don’t feel like one of them.”
Jeb chuckled. “It was kind of funny to pass through Central City and see your face on commemorative souvenirs.”
Cain groaned. “Oh, God. Don’t remind me. I didn’t sign up for overnight celebrity.”
“No, you signed up to marry the Crown Princess. What did you expect?”
“I just thought I was doing my duty to DG.”
“You could have said no.”
“I know,” Cain groaned. “As Ambrose reminds me whenever I complain too long for his liking.”
Jeb leaned on the desk, propping his head on his hand. “Look, I like DG. You know I do. But I don’t know if I can sit in that hall and watch you bind yourself to this kind of life. You’ll be just as much a prisoner as you were in the tin suit.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Cain said, quietly. “But DG was born into her own tin suit. And I can’t let her be alone in there.”
DG walked quickly into the family sitting room, one hand already held up. “Mother, just so you know, I do not want to talk about dresses or flowers or music or anything else that has the word ‘wedding’ anywhere attached to it, all right?” She sat down, sweaty and disheveled from her daily session of martial-arts training, which had started at Cain’s insistence but had continued because she liked it. Glitch was forever going on about what a natural she was, although she had her doubts that he might just be talking her up a bit.
She felt bad being so short with her mother. She was ill, after all, and the fact that she didn’t have much time left was something DG tried hard not to think about. Part of her wanted to give in to her every demand, just so that her mother could have this wedding as a perfect memory before she died, but dammit…arranged or not, it was her wedding and all the preparations had quickly worn through her tolerance.
The Queen eyed her nervously. “All right, dear.” DG waited, counting off the seconds. She’d gotten to seventeen when her mother spoke up again. “It’s just your one chance at this special day, and…”
“And you want it to be magical and perfect and all that and that’s nice, but I just want to do it quickly and quietly and go on with my life as if nothing’s happened. I wish we didn’t even have to invite anyone.”
“DG, it’s a state occasion! There are traditions, and protocols, and…”
DG sighed. “Yes, I know. I’m doing my duty and getting married, Mother. I don’t think I’m duty-bound to make a giant ass of myself.”
“Actually, that’s the short definition of being queen, dear.”
DG met her mother’s eyes, saw her wry smile, and laughed. The tension broken, she got up and joined her mother on the couch, slumping back into the voluminous pillows. “Just don’t tell Cain, all right? He runs the other way when he sees me coming as it is.”
“Give him time to get used to all this.”
“I don’t think he’ll ever get used to being the center of attention.” DG put her hands to her face. “I’m asking too much of him. He’ll never have a moment’s peace ever again, and now that he sees what he’s really gotten himself into…I bet he wishes he’d said no.” She fingered her engagement ring absently.
“He wishes no such thing.”
“Even if he does, he’ll never say so. He’ll just suffer in silence and eventually hate me for roping him into this.”
“DG! Why on earth would you say such a thing?” the Queen exclaimed, putting a hand on her daughter’s arm.
DG met her mother’s eyes, letting her fear seep into her gaze, fear she usually kept under tight lock and key. “Because I’m afraid it’s already started,” she whispered.
“What do you mean?”
“I feel like I’ve lost my friend. There’s this…weirdness now that was never there before. I used to tell him everything, he used to talk to me so easily. Now there’s this big thing sitting there between us and I can’t see him through it, and I can’t look around it because it’s just too huge.”
The Queen nodded. “I can understand that. It is a rather big change you’re making. I think you both just need time to get used to it. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“Sure, fine. Whatever.”
“Your Mr. Cain is a good man, DG. Your father and I couldn’t be happier with the choice you made.”
DG sighed. “He isn’t my Mr. Cain, Mother.”
Later that afternoon, DG quite literally ran into her fiance as she came around a corner near her father’s office, her nose stuck in a history book. Cain was coming the other direction, equally immersed in a stack of papers. They collided and papers and books flew everywhere.
“Oh damn, I’m sorry,” Cain said, steadying DG with a hand on her arm. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said, bending to pick up her book. Cain beat her to it and handed her the volume. “I guess I should look where I’m going,” she said, tittering a nervous laugh.
Cain gathered up his papers and stood. “I was just, uh…heading to the kitchen for some coffee.”
She nodded, clutching her book to her chest. “Oh.”
Pause. “Care to join me?”
“Oh! Uh…sure, why not?” DG turned back the way she’d come and fell into step beside him. They walked in silence for a few strides. “I didn’t see you at breakfast,” she ventured.
“Jeb was here,” he said.
DG nodded. “I heard he was coming in.”
“Yeah.”
She waited for him to go on, but he didn’t. “Did he have news?”
Cain held out the stack of papers in his hand. “He brought reports. I’m sorting through all of it now. I’ll have a briefing ready by this evening.”
“Okay.” She desperately wanted to ask him if Jeb was coming to the wedding, but couldn’t think how to phrase the question. She was very nervous that marrying her might alienate Cain from his son, which was the last thing she wanted. She had always been friendly with Jeb, but hadn’t spoken to him in private since the announcement.
She wanted to ask, but she couldn’t, because suddenly it wasn’t her place to ask about his relationship with his son. In the past she’d never needed to ask, he would have talked to her about it. Just as she would once have told him about how her mother was driving her crazy with all this wedding business, but now she said nothing.
So they walked to the kitchen in silence, two feet of space between them.