Bastian was waiting for me in the downstairs lobby, exactly where we’d planned. The smile that pulled at his lips quickly fell away when he saw the prince.
“Your Highness.”
“Commander.”
“Countess.”
“Commander.”
Thankfully, the greetings were short and sweet.
“I’ve reserved us a resting room,” Bastian explained, leading us to the ballroom. It was a short walk without a hundred people in the way.
“Good good.” Deryl said, entering ahead of everyone and taking the solo chair at the sitting table. Bastian waved me ahead and followed up last, shutting the door.
There was only a loveseat and the chair. Which meant Bastian and I were going to have to sit across from Deryl on the small couch. Any other time and I wouldn’t have minded cozying up to Bastian, but not now.
I took my seat, and made myself busy pouring everyone a glass of water from my own storage ring.
Bastian must have felt similar unease. He remained standing.
“In accordance with the wishes of Their Royal Highness, Rowen of Peldeep, I have been granted authority to complete the contract and treaty.” Bastian pulled out a magical contract stating the same, and placed it on the table.
Originally, we’d hoped to go over everything together, and do the official contract later. Impossible now. I shot an apologetic look at Bastian while Deryl glanced at the paperwork.
“As was discussed,” Bastian summoned a second copy of the formal contract. “Peldeep will waive our tariffs on shipments from Sumbria and add three new port stops, in exchange for Sumbria waiving taxes on our import goods and removing the foreign docking fees. Peldeep will continue to act in all other ways as a foreign cargo vessel, including but not limited to a three day docking limit, obeying passenger limitations–”
“I’ve read the document.” Deryl cut off the commander, flipping through the papers and frowning. “I know what it says. Did your people agree to all of it?”
“No.” Bastian said. “There is still the matter of section seven, paragraph eight. The marriage offer… has Countess Peregrine Fern actually seen the contract yet?”
“Does she need to?” Deryl raised an eyebrow. “She won’t actually be in charge of anything. We have already selected a proxy.”
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Why didn’t this surprise me?
Bastian handed me his own copy of the contract and I glanced over the section in question.
“A year?”
“You would immediately move to Peldeep bringing an equal amount of staff as my own, marry a royal branch family member and dedicate a year and a day to oversee the management of the new trade,” Bastian paraphrased. “You wouldn’t get to go home or see your family before the wedding, and even if Sumbria sent a proxy to manage your tasks, you would still accept all responsibility for failure.”
“Ah.” I knew marrying a hot dragon man and moving across the country was too good to be true… there was never anything simple when it came to my queen. Spies in my retinue were almost a guarantee.
Deryl frowned, “I don’t see the problem– unless you’re saying you don’t trust my family to select a proper administrator?”
“It’s not that,” Bastian countered quickly, “It’s cultural.”
The look of disgust on the prince’s face was plain to see. “What?”
“In Peldeep, it is custom to visit the home of both families before the wedding.” Bastian explained. “Instead of traveling straight to Peldeep, I would like to take Countess Peregrine to visit Sumbria and pay my respects to the Ferns. After which, we’ll return to Peldeep and host the wedding.”
“And the trade?” Deryl countered.
“We will have the office ready to go by the wedding.”
“Fine.” Deryl summoned a magical pen, putting down his contract on the table and editing one of the lines. Bastian reviewed the changes as they appeared on his copy.
“That is all that I would change.” Bastian turned to me and raised an eyebrow, “but what about you?”
Getting the chance to go home and pack, and speak with my family, was a weight off my shoulders… and would probably save my oak a lot of frost damage back home. Assuming she’d survived father’s wrath at the news.
Assuming my parents had ever gotten the news.
Surely even the queen wouldn’t have married me off without saying anything.
“She’ll sign.” Deryl said, swiftly turning the contract around and sliding it across the table to me.
First, I needed to ignore the obstinate desire to not sign for the simple reason that I had been told I must. Second, I scanned the whole document a second time– not trusting that Crown Prince Deryl simply changed the one line in the contract.
Turns out he did change that line only, but it was better to read twice than regret once.
“I am happy with the contract.” I stated. Bastian and I still needed to come to our own understanding about what married life was like, but that could come later.
One of the reasons I was happy to marry the man– he had shown a great deal of care and consideration already. Far more than my previous fiance or fiance candidates.
Compared to Deryl, Bastian was an entire mithril mine.
Maybe I should have looked at this matter with a more discerning eye. After Geoffry and Deryl, anyone was an entire mithril mine… but Bastian did have other things going for him. Even more than his good looks and consideration and well paying job and…
“But are you a member of the royal family?” I asked, noting for the first time that particular detail.
“I’m a ward of the state,” Bastian explained readily. “I was adopted by Their Royal Highness Rowen’s younger sister, Princess Coralina, and added to the family register.” He added calmly, “The princess is no longer with us; it was simply a formality.”
“I see. Thank you for the explanation.” The blood ties of Sumbrian households were absolute, the entire situation impossible back home but seemingly normal in Peldeep.
It only made me want to move there more. I picked up the pen and signed the magical contract.
Oh! Best of both words - I can have a Ria and Keith wedding chapter from Rowen's POV! muahahaha.
