Blood Magic and Brandy, page 26
The germ of the idea from the night they’d said goodbye unfolded and bloomed into a full-fledged plan. He caught Rane’s eye.
“Do you trust me?” he mouthed.
She gave a sharp nod, barely perceptible.
“Do you believe the agreement the baroness negotiated is fair to both Teruelle and Lorea?” Nevar asked the king. Time, after all, was as valuable a commodity as most others.
The king’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yes, but—”
“I am certain if you petition King Armel to reinstate me as ambassador, he will do so. After looking over the agreement, if I agree with your assessment, I am more than willing to sign it, saving us all the time and energy it would take to renegotiate. I only have one condition.”
The barest hint of a smile formed on Rane’s face. She saw where this was going.
“Name it,” King Rowan said.
Queen Beatrice shot a sharp glance at her husband.
Here went everything. “The crown princess’s hand in marriage.”
“No, absolutely not,” the king protested, a red haze of anger creeping up his face and fire lighting his eyes. “Her destiny is here, as the heir to the Lorean throne. She can’t be your baroness.”
It was true, she couldn’t be Baroness of Otero, but once his father recovered, Leon could govern Otero and train Orom to become Baron. Nevar could be Rane’s prince.
“I appreciate that, Your Majesty. I am willing to come to the Lorean court once my father’s recuperation is complete.”
Queen Beatrice’s glare slid from her husband and darted between Nevar and Rane. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, then widened as she put the pieces of the puzzle together.
“Mineral rights are a low price to pay for the future queen’s hand, Lord Nevar. Why should I agree to this merely to save a few weeks?” King Rowan glowered at Nevar, tapping his foot impatiently.
Rane cleared her throat. The king and queen turned their heads toward her.
“I am willing to make this sacrifice for our kingdom.” Her voice was calm and clear, but her eyes sparkled in amusement.
“Wait,” Ebon said, confusion on his face. “I thought—ow!”
Betony kicked him soundly in the shin.
“Hush, Ebon. Let the adults talk,” the fey girl said, a smirk on her angelic face as she winked at her sister.
“I taught you better than to accept the first offer, Rane.” the king said. “We promised you some say. I would rather see you happy than accept an offer when other avenues to solve the problem are available.”
“Rowan,” Queen Beatrice said, “I believe they are both more than amenable to the idea.”
“No, I don’t believe Rane would—”
“Look at them.”
The king’s gaze raked his daughter from top to bottom and did the same to Nevar. Realization slowly settled in his eyes. He pressed his lips together, as though hiding a smile.
“They’ve only known each other a fortnight,” King Rowan protested weakly.
“It works that way sometimes,” the queen said.
“Will he make you happy, Rane?”
She darted a glance at Nevar, and a beautiful, full smile spread across her lips as she stood on her tiptoes. “He already does, Father.”
“Fine,” the king said with an exasperated sigh. “I will add it to the agreement. Will that suit all parties involved?”
“Yes,” Rane said, her voice a little too innocent.
“Yes, Your Majesty, thank you,” Nevar said calmly and authoritatively, everything he wasn’t feeling at the moment. All he wanted to do was sweep Rane into his arms and kiss her in celebration.
The king addressed Nevar. “Your quarters are available. We will send a missive to your king immediately. We should sign the agreement on schedule. You can then head home and help your father in his recovery. We’ll set a date for the wedding when you have a better idea how long that might take. Welcome to the family.”
With a last, hard look, King Rowan took his wife’s arm. Queen Beatrice gestured to Ebon and Betony, who followed them out reluctantly.
“What was that all about?” Ebon asked as they left.
“Don’t worry, dear brother. I’ll explain it in small words so you’ll understand,” Betony said with loving amusement. She pulled the door shut behind them, leaving Nevar and Rane alone.
As soon as the door shut, Rane planted herself in front of him, tears welling in her eyes.
“I almost lost you.” She cupped his face. “I don’t know—”
He pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her waist. “Hush. I’m here now. Everything worked out.”
“You are as brilliant as you are beautiful.”
“Not that brilliant. I mean, I almost died before I thought of it.”
“It never would have occurred to me to make the agreement contingent on something I wanted.”
“We’ll make a good team.” A deep satisfaction lodged in his heart. “After spending most of my life learning from a conniving, evil stepmother, I’m able to think like one. I’ll be the politician, and you can be the queen. What happens now?”
“Now? No one’s expecting us anywhere for a few days. Do you have any ideas?”
“Oh, one or two.”
“Say it again, Nevar.”
“I love you, Ranunculus.”
She swatted at him, but he caught her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. He kissed the back of her hand, and Rane smiled at him, her green eyes lighting up his entire world.
“Don’t call me that.”
“It suits you.” He bit back his own smile.
“Do I look like a fucking flower?” she asked with a chuckle.
“No, you look like a princess. My princess. I will love you until my dying breath, Rane.” He meant it with every fiber of his being.
Her smile softened, and she stepped closer in his embrace. “I love you too, Nevar.”
He lowered his head and kissed her, heady with the feel of her in his arms. It was where she belonged, where he belonged.
Epilogue
Like everything else in her life, Rane’s happily ever after began with an accident. She tore through the halls, encased in white silk overlaid in lace, and a long, white veil trailing behind her. She was late for her own damn wedding.
Taking a corner too quickly, Rane grabbed onto a statue to keep upright. Once her slippered feet gained traction, she continued her race against the clock. The bells rang out as she skidded to a halt, overcompensating and bumping one of the statues standing to either side of the throne room doors. Her arms windmilled as she attempted to keep her feet, but it was a losing battle. The statue hit the floor with a boom that echoed through the hall and down the past two years.
“Idoya’s tits,” she said, expecting to land next to the now-shattered piece of marble.
Instead of a hard stone floor, strong, warm arms encircled her. She admired the molten bronze eyes of her prince. Well, he would be as soon as this wedding was over.
“There’s my princess,” Nevar said, a wide smile on his lips as he examined the broken statue. “What did your great-grandfather ever do to deserve this fate?”
“It was great-great-grandpa, and I’m sure he did something worthy of ending up gravel in the castle halls if he was the least bit interesting.”
He stood her on her feet, and she smoothed the layers of silk and lace. Nevar set the veil right and brushed a loose strand of her hair out of her face, leaving his hand on her cheek.
“You’re late.” A devilish gleam shone in his eyes.
Heat flooded her face, but she kept her voice even. “Someone, and I’m not naming names, kept me up indecently late last night. He even knew I was getting married today.”
Nevar chuckled and gave her a peck on the cheek.
“That’s supposed to come after the ceremony, my lord.” Heat washed through her of an entirely different sort, from a simple peck on the cheek. Holy goddess, how was she going to survive a lifetime of this?
“I hadn’t seen you in months, and you expected anything else, Your Highness?”
He hooked her arm through his. He was in a velvet sapphire blue doublet, embroidered with silver flowers, beautifully rendered ranunculus. Her flower. A crisp, white tunic over black leather breeches, and the fairy-wrought sword at his side completed his outfit. He cut almost as magnificent figure clothed as he had naked last night.
The throne room door cracked open, and Betony poked out her head.
“There you are. The guests are getting restless.” She stepped into the hall and thrust a bouquet in her sister’s general direction.
Rane gripped the bundle of yellow ranunculus, bright and cheery on this cloudy day. Bet glanced at the ruined statue.
“Another one, Rane? I’m beginning to think you have no respect for our ancestors.” Her tone was disappointed, but the smile on her face belied her words. “Are you ready?”
“I have never been more ready for anything in my life.”
“Good,” Nevar said. “If you’d answered anything else, I’d walk.”
Betony knocked, and two guards swung the throne room doors open, but to Rane and Nevar, it was as though they were alone in the great room.
“Really? You’d walk away from all this just because I answered a question wrong?” Rane gestured wildly at the sumptuous hall and her own curvy body.
“Oh, no doubt. Correct answers are important. How could I possibly tie my fate to someone who got a question like that wrong?”
“Well, if you want to go, now’s the time.”
“No, I’ll hang around. See what happens next.”
Rane opened her mouth for a final retort, but Betony brought reality crashing down.
“Shut up. You two are giving Baron Leon heartburn, the poor man. He’s suffered enough,” she hissed.
“Oh, right,” Rane said instead, forever grateful his witch of a wife was locked away in the deepest, darkest cell in Lorea.
The faces in the crowd grew clear. Relatives, guests, important courtiers. Hyssop sat next to Queen Beatrice, smiles on both their faces. King Rowan waited on the dais to perform the ceremony. And next to Nevar’s father, who was finally well enough to travel, Orom bounced on his toes, trying to get a glimpse of the couple as they made their way down the aisle, looking like a smaller version of her groom.
They reached the dais and stepped up as they’d rehearsed yesterday. Facing Nevar with both her hands in his, Rane was exactly where she belonged. Her godmother was right. Love was the only thing that truly mattered. When Nevar kissed her at the end of the ceremony, she knew without a doubt he believed the same. And they lived happily ever after.
THE END
Newsletter Sign-up
If you liked this book and think you would enjoy reading my newsletter, sign up here: https://www.emilymichelauthor.com/newsletter.html
Not only will you get a free short story, but you’ll also be the first to know about Advance Reader Copies, cover reveals, upcoming projects, sales, and giveaways. There’s a special, hidden section on my website just for newsletter subscribers with deleted scenes, playlists, and other fun stuff. I email about once a month and always include a cat picture.
Acknowledgments
One of these days, I will be able to dedicate a book to all the wonderful stepparents out there. This is not that book. Sorry, evil stepparent is one of the important tropes in Snow White. However, I was blessed with two of the best stepmothers out there. Michele and Nancy, thank you from the bottom of my heart for being wonderful bonus moms.
When I was very young, maybe seven years old or so, I received An Illustrated Junior Library Edition of Grimms’ Fairy Tales. I read it over and over again, fascinated by the illustrations and how the stories differed from the Disney versions, both simpler and more complex, and a hell of a lot meaner (you don’t want to know what happened to Cinderella’s stepsisters). I can’t remember who gave it to me, but it is still a treasured possession and the skeleton upon which I loosely draped my retelling.
If you’re interested in learning more about royal families in the Middle Ages and the lengths they would go to keep power, may I suggest listening to the British History Podcast. Jamie has spent more than a decade on British history, most of it between the Romans and the Norman invasion, and there are plenty of stories that would put George RR Martin to shame.
I found thoughtful and kind beta readers for this book on the Critique Match website. Thanks to Katherine, JA, Melissa O, and Melissa C. Your comments and suggestions helped improve this book. Shoutout to Elisabeth G for taking a look at my blurb. Thanks also to Gail Delaney, my editor, who suggested the title. I thank whatever deity or saint in charge of social media for sending you across my TikTok FYP. Give Tommy a scritch from me.
And of course, my family: parents, steps, siblings, grandparents, in-laws, niblings, spouse, and kids. I love you all, and none of this would be possible without you.
If you’ve ever wondered how to help an author out, may I suggest leaving a review of their book? Leave it anywhere you can—the retailer where you bought it, StoryGraph, Goodreads, social media, blogs. A fifteen-second video, some stars, or a couple of sentences can help us out a lot.
About the Author
Emily Michel read her first fairy tale before kindergarten and has been fascinated with speculative fiction of all kinds ever since. She’s traveled the world as a military family member, calling many places in the US and Europe home. She settled back in her home state of Arizona a few years ago with her husband and kids.
When not writing, Emily reads, walks, crochets, and pets her feline overlords. Emily has volunteered her time to community organizations for the past twenty years and looks forward to taking a break in 2022 to concentrate on her writing and editing, which is a nice way of saying she’s tired and needs some “me time.”
Socially awkward and extremely introverted, she nevertheless participates in social media. Check out @EmiMiWriter on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and even, dear God, TikTok. And don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter! https://www.emilymichelauthor.com/newsletter
Books by Emily Michel
Magic & Monsters
Witch Hazel & Wolfsbane
Devil’s Claw & Moonstone
Brimstone & Silver
Memory Duology
A Memory of Wings
A Redemption of Wings
The Lorean Tales
Blood Magic and Brandy
Expect books 2 and 3 in late 2023 or early 2024
Emily Michel, Blood Magic and Brandy
