Queen of Jastain (41 page)

“So, Avant told you?”

Avant hadn’t spoken to her since dinner last night, and now he was gone. “No, he didn’t. I know you from Avant’s…stories.”

“Ah, I see. Your Majesty, you will need formal training for the coronation ceremony. There are many forms and customs you must learn, and Avant tells me you were not raised in a monarchy.”

“That’s true. What kinds of things do I need to know? Avant has taught me quite a bit.”

“Initially, you'll need to know who you are. By that, I mean what your formal title will be and what it means.” Galwyn cleared his throat and smoothed his brocade vest.

Abby furrowed her brow. Persnickety was the word that came to mind. “What will my title be?” Clearly, Galwyn was ready to step back into his role of advisor and watchdog of the Kingdom.

“Her Royal Majesty, Sovereign Queen and Supreme Ruler of the Lands of Jastain, the New Kingdom of Light.”

What!
Sovereign Queen Supreme sounded like a combo meal. “That seems kind of…clunky.”

“Each word has a meaning, and it is my charge to teach you. I'd like to begin your lessons this afternoon, if it pleases you? By the way, your current appropriate title is Queen Regent of the Eastern Lands of Jastain, the Kingdom of Azdil.”

Ha! Avant was wrong. She was queen already, although she had no idea what that meant. “This afternoon is fine. I’ve got nothing else on the
royal
agenda. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” The elderly gentlemen's slate eyes scrutinized her.

“If I ordered another ruler to do something, would they have to do it?”

“That would depend on the ruler and the land from which they come. If I were to assume you were referring to Lord Ventium, for instance,” he said, his smile wry, “then I would say, most likely. Domentus Ventium is currently a lordship in the independent Freelands of Jastain; however, the Freelands fall within the Kingdom of Light. Therefore, upon your coronation, all of the Freelands will be under your rule.”

Her mind spun. She hadn’t realized that Avant would be her subject, and she really didn’t like the idea. She frowned. He wouldn’t either.

“Could I give someone, as a gift, full reign over certain lands? Lord Ventium, for instance, could I give him the Freelands to rule?”

Galwyn looked at her like she had a booger hanging from her nose. “You cannot give the rule of your lands away, and even if you could, you should not. It creates division and unrest and would be seen as weakness by those who may want more than you are willing to give. You could, however, bequeath regency to your consort upon marriage.”

Huh?
“You mean, if I get married I can give the king authority to rule with me?”

“To an extent, that is what I mean. However, there can be no king when a queen rules. This will all be part of your lessons, but I'll explain briefly. Upon marriage, you may give your prince a ruling claim over some of your lands.”

“Why can’t there be a king? There was previously a king and queen.”

“I can see we are beginning our lessons now. Please sit. We are currently in the consort chambers of the castle.”

Galwyn explained the difference between a ruling queen and a queen consort. As Abby understood it, the title of king held more authority than queen, therefore couldn’t be used when a sovereign queen ruled. The spouse of a ruling queen was known as prince, which finally made sense because she'd actually seen Queen Elizabeth and Prince Phillip during a vacation to England. Galwyn spent the next three hours explaining all of the different titles, and when she left him, her mind swam with dukes, regents, consorts and regent queen supremes.

She wandered down the hall into the king’s chambers. His lavish sitting room overlooked the kingdom to the east. The ocean was visible from windows that spanned ceiling to floor. The haze had cleared from the sky and only a remnant of fog remained. She walked through a tall threshold into a bedchamber as large as the sitting room. The opulent accommodations dripped with elegance and excess. Rich velvets and brocades decorated gilded furniture. Large intricately woven tapestries and massive oil paintings adorned the walls. From the northern windows, a stunning view of the Great Heights overwhelmed her. The sight of the high places made her smile with joy. She had stood on those peaks and look down on this very castle. A chill swept over her, and the room thickened with destiny realized.

She stepped over to the dressing table and fingered Aesdil’s personal items that still lay there. Something sparkled on a silver tray. She picked up the three-carat diamond and twirled the stem between her finger and thumb. Where had her father gotten this stone? It was the perfect mate to the Stone of Light—
the commitment of sacrifice
. There was only one man who would possess this stone, but she'd save it until the time was right. She smiled as she put it in her ear.

The thought of staying in the rooms where Aesdil plotted his evil plan didn't give her a warm, fuzzy feeling. It was most likely the reason for Avant’s hurry to have them refurbished. She also didn’t like the idea that Avant would occupy Sentieve’s old rooms. Once he was the official consort, she would talk him into staying in here, with her, permanently. Petra could have the other chambers; she would rename them just for him.

It still seemed like a mistake that she should be queen. Avant had wanted to be king, expected to be king. But now he could
never
be king. No wonder he'd acted so strangely. He'd understood the implications from the moment he read the prophecy, and still he did what he had to, making sure she could rule, even though it crushed his own dreams. She would just have to make it up to him.

Now that all of their obstacles were removed, they could be finally together. She knew he still had a hurdle to overcome. Except for that brief moment in Dallas, he'd not initiated a relationship with her. Her heart filled with dread.
It has to be his decision.
She'd given him the driver's seat. The answer to that familiar question was the same—she trusted him. What would he do with it?

Abby paced back and forth in the northern drawing room, which gave her a panoramic view of the west—the direction from which he would come.

The coronation was to take place in two weeks. How everything could possibly get done before then was an effin' mystery. Every available woman in the land worked around the clock in multiple shifts to piece the material for her dress. Petra organized the invitations and sent messengers out to the regent and steward rulers of Jastain.

Huge orders of perishables from the eastern islands flooded into the market for local traders to distribute. The whole kingdom labored like an anthill with preparations. Carpenters and tradesmen of all kinds worked diligently in the upstairs chambers that were close to completion.

Although she'd expected him back the day before, Avant still hadn’t returned. He'd been gone five days already. Though he promised he wouldn’t be long, she hadn’t asked for a specific timeframe. She rolled her eyes. Based on experience, his idea of time and distance didn’t correspond to hers.

Staring out the window, she spied a small caravan. Her heart leapt in relief and she rushed down and through the castle to greet it. Annova descended from the carriage, looking as regal as ever. Her red hair glistened in the sun. She wore a simple traveling dress, but that, in no way, detracted from her stunning beauty.

Abby craned her head to find Spiritus. Maybe he'd gone straight to the city. “Did Avant go to the city?”

“No, my dear. He stayed at the fief on business matters.”

“He’s not with you?” She felt as if someone had opened a trap door under her feet. She fell into a cold dark well of disappointment. Closing her eyes, she tried to quell the threatening tears.

Annova wrapped a comforting arm around Abby's waist. “Give him time. He still must find his heart.”

Another five days passed. She thought about Implanting to him but kept reminding herself—
Driver's seat.

Between dress fittings, menu tastings, and coronation lessons, no time remained to do anything but sleep and eat, and barely that. She never saw anyone she knew and loved anymore, except Lyndsea. Lyndsea and Baby Abby kept her company during some of the preparations, when the new mom wasn’t spending time with Chad. It appeared they truly shared a bond since the ordeal with Seppitent.
At least somebody had found love.
Petra was gone most days and didn’t even eat dinner with them, although Abby knew he spent nights in the castle. She knew he was still trying to sort through his hurt.

Being queen was more of a pain that anything else. The people in the castle accommodated her every need. They quickly provided her with any whim of a request she made. If she complemented a particular flower in the gardens, the vases around the castle were filled with them. If she commented on the pleasant temperature of her bathwater, the chambermaids would argue on how to maintain that temperature. It was all so…goofy. She sighed.

The best part about being queen was the chocolate from the eastern traders, and Abby made a career out of eating it. The bakers and chefs had duels to see whose dessert she liked the best, and usually, they all won.

She spent any spare time studying maps of Jastain and learning the names of the different lands and rulers, filling in the gaps from Avant’s Implanting. Studying hadn’t ever been her strong suit. It still wasn’t. Some days, she took long walks in her private garden with Galwyn to make the task more palatable.

The enchantment of the place could charm even the fussiest curmudgeon, but it didn’t feel like home. Something was missing. Someone was missing.

Fourteen days and five hours after he’d left, Avant had the nerve to return. She told her staff that she was to be immediately informed of his arrival. One of the ladies' maids told her he'd traveled to town, following up on arrangements for the coronation, and would meet with her afterward.

She watched from her windows as he casually bounded up the steps of the palace like he hadn’t been gone a day, and like she wasn’t mad as hell at him. Determined to be the epitome of reserve and coolness, she sat in her newly refurbished chambers like the regal queen she was—sort of.

The teal blue and silver schemed rooms overflowed in luxury and beauty. The artisans and craftsmen who completed the job in a little over a week could have given the crew of Extreme Home Makeover a run for their money. Calm colors provided the soothing tranquility she needed.

When Avant strolled in, she didn't lift her gaze but sat on her cushioned sofa eating chocolates.

“Abigail, I'm sorry I was delayed…My Light, these are the finest rooms I've ever seen. Do you approve of them?” He rose from a shallow bow to gaze around.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Her heart pounded. God, did he have to look so damned good? He gaped in wonder.

She scowled up at him and continued to eat her chocolate.

“I must say, the carpenters did a magnificent job, and the fabric workers….” He stepped over to peek into her bedroom.

If he thinks he's getting in there anytime soon, he's sadly mistaken!

“I've come from a meeting with Petra, and it seems the arrangements are in order. A week from today you will ascend the throne.”

She glared at him again and bit hard into a piece of chocolate.

He took in a long breath. “Abigail, I understand you're angry…”

“Well, aren’t you the clever one?”

“…but as I explained, I was delayed. I'm sorry. You have important matters with which to concern yourself. Put away this childishness. Is this really how a queen is to behave?”

He was right, but he'd been gone two weeks, and didn’t really even seem to have missed her. “You mean important matters like dress fittings and coronation lessons? Oh, how will I ever manage?” She put her wrist to her forehead.

He frowned and furrowed his brow. He wasn’t exactly a fan of her sarcasm.

“No. Like, what you're going to do for the families of the men who lost their lives in the battle. Are you going to provide for the injured men who can no longer earn a living? Do you have enough excess grain in the storehouses to feed the people through the winter? I could continue, but I believe you understand. This is not a game, My Lady. These people are depending on you. They are looking to you for answers. You can no longer afford the luxury of pettiness.”

She felt like she was two inches tall. The weight of the kingdom came down on her shoulders. Tears pooled in her eyes. “How am I supposed to do this? I don't want to.”

Avant sat beside her. He sighed heavily. “How did you restore the kingdom, Abigail? Are these problems any more difficult than defeating Seppitent or talking down a mountain lion? The Light will guide you and provide everything you need to accomplish your task.” He took her hand. “You were not chosen because you could accomplish this; you can accomplish this because you are Chosen.”

She gazed into those blue eyes. The hardness of her heart melted. She didn’t understand the philosophy lesson, but holding his hand made everything okay.

* * * *

The next seven days were a blur. Although Avant was back in the castle, she rarely saw him. He was busy with the final preparations. Foreign dignitaries and the stewards and regents of the lands flooded into town and stayed in the palace. Avant took a small guest room down the hall from her and, occasionally, sat in on her lessons with Galwyn. She offered him the consort chambers, but he refused, saying one of the regents from the southern lands whose daughter had accompanied him should occupy them.

Avant made it a point to never be alone with her and while he claimed it was for appearance sake, she knew he continued to shut her out. She held out hope.

It was the eve of her coronation. Abby sat in front of her windows staring out over the Great High Places.

A knock echoed, and she opened the door to find Annova. The woman curtsied gracefully and swept the room. She took Abby’s hands in her own. “My Lady, soon to be Queen, how you have grown in the Light! I'm honored to be of service to you on this most blessed of occasions. To see the Kingdom restored is a desire I have long held, and to be a part of it is singularly special.”