Bastian signed the treaty while Deryl watched on with a wide smile, like the prince had won something over him... little did he know. Let the prince think whatever he liked - as long as Bastian got to keep Peregrine then the rest could be dealt with later.

  Probably not the right choice of words. And definitely not the proper sentiment.

  Mine, disagreed the feeling inside of him that often surfaced when he was resisting the urge to buy more yarn. He told the feeling to shush, it wasn't helping.

  It was hard to stamp down the strange possessive tendencies he’d been having with the elf countess. His hands itched to hold her like they did when he wanted to paint something. And he hadn’t slept well last night, missing her presence. He would’ve been worried by his quickly growing feelings, but he recognized his own drakin nature. His kind could get a little… obsessive.

  He would just need to control himself.

  And maybe talk to Peregrine about his sudden urges before he stepped out of line. She probably didn’t want him picking her up and carrying her around all day long, or punching anyone who disrespected her without a by-your-leave.

  Like the prince had just done. Bastian hid the dark feelings creeping up his spine behind a pleasant smile, merely pocketing the contract.

  “Finally,” Crown Prince Deryl rolled up his copy of the contract and pressed his ring to the fold– sealing it magically before depositing it into his storage. Then he stood and brushed his sleeve, flicking off invisible dirt. “Now this is done, you can take the girl out of my hair and be on your way. I have a meeting with the Grand Pontiff, and I’m expecting more good news. Good day.”

  Bastian wondered if this was going to be a problem. The prince was just being himself, and not even that bad compared to normal… but hearing him treat Peregrine like that sent a fresh torrent of emotion unlike anything Bastian had felt before.

  Luckily for everyone, the prince didn’t wait for their pleasantries and marched out of the room, slamming the door. Unguarded, Bastian noted. Where anybody could just assassinate him in broad daylight. A backstab and–

  “Good day and good riddance.” Peregrine stated, the latter under her breath.

  It drew Bastian out of his thoughts, and the tightly coiled wire inside of him relaxed. He smiled softly at Peregrine. “That was fun.”

  It was the only thing he could think to say, and the lie had her raising an eyebrow. “If you think that was fun, try traveling with the elf across the continent… which I’m going to say right here and right now I refuse to do on my return trip. Not even for our life and future happiness. I won’t do it. You can’t make me.”

  Their life and future happiness was exactly what he was hoping for.

  Bastian took the seat next to her on the couch. “I would never subject you to that. We’ll make our own way to Sumbria.”

  “Thank you,” She reached out and took his offered hand, their fingers lacing together. “So… uh, I guess this is really happening.”

  He nodded. “Any regrets?”

  “... I’ll be honest with you.”

  Her nervousness became his own, but he waited for her to find the words. If they were both anxious, it only meant they needed to have an actual conversation. This conversation.

  “I’m not sure, that is to say– I don’t know if my family knows about us.” She waved between them, adding, “or about the treaty.”

  He cursed. “Then we should probably arrive in Sumbria before your crown prince. I don’t even want to imagine what he might say about us while delivering the ‘good news’.”

  “Speaking of us.” Peregrine squeezed his hand. “I would like to know what ‘us’ is. I don’t mean to be presumptuous - but I imagine there’s more to being a commander general’s wife then sitting around embroidering all the time.”

  She might be surprised.

  “I don’t even know where you live! Where I’ll live… and how many servants am I going to need to bring?” Peregrine’s litany of questions stopped there and she looked up at him expectantly.

  “I have a room in the royal barracks and a house in the city. I recommend we live in the house - it’s bigger.” He said, wondering what he was going to do with all of the crafting projects he'd kept stashed in the place. The room reserved for the lady of the house was stuffed with all of the bolts of fabric he’d collected over the years. Her desk was a mountain of thread spools, and her walk-in closet full to the brim with bagged fabric scraps he knew he’d find a use for. Someday.

  Thank the gods he kept his paints in the dining room, next to the kitchen. At least there wouldn't be stains to clean up before she moved in.

  How fast would it take to build a workshop on the grounds? And where was he going to keep his craft stash in the meantime? Technically, Bastian could claim a room in the Emerald Palace, something he'd never done because the idea of dividing his things into two places made him feel like someone was happily stabbing him in the kidney.

  “And the staff?” Peregrine pressed, drawing him back to the conversation at hand. Probably best that he didn't use the palace suite... Sumbria would send more 'staff' to help there.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “I have a housekeeper,” He answered, “His family helps with the cleaning, and gardening when there is need– but they are contractors not staff. You could take over for Mr. Sakiyama, if you wanted. But you don’t have to.”

  “Why do I feel like that means I do have to?” Peregrine tilted her head slightly. “Isn’t that part of the whole being your wife thing?”

  “No, of course not. I have a perfectly respectable housekeeper who enjoys paying the bills and washing the dishes. If you want to, then sure, but if you don’t then there are any number of other things you could do.” Bastian listed them off as he thought of them. “You could get a job at the palace, or pursue your own interests, or do nothing - I know how much you enjoy dungeon delving. You could become an [Adventurer], or join a guild.”

  She replied, “And what about the treaty?”

  “What about it?”

  Peregrine frowned. “It’s my duty to oversee the trade negotiations, isn’t it? Sumbria isn’t going to send anyone trustworthy to manage the task.”

  “Ah,” Bastian scratched the back of his neck. “Can I let you in on a secret?”

  “Should you be telling me this secret before we are wed?” She asked dubiously.

  “No.”

  “Bastian!” Peregrine gripped his hand firmly and he smiled. He didn’t want to keep secrets. Better to be honest up front.

  Peregrine leaned in closer, the picture of all seriousness. “Alright, tell me.”

  He captured the image in his mind for later reference.

  “Sumbria needs us more than we need them.” Bastian recalled the lecture he’d had when Rowen surprised him with the marriage offer. “Do you remember when Madame Potts forecast Pirate Abra attacking the Sumbrian coast?”

  “How could I forget? One of those cast's is the reason I'm here.”

  Bastian paused when he remembered the cast she was referring too... when the pirates had killed Peregrine’s old fiancé.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” Bastian managed to say the proper words, even if he had to lie.

  He wasn’t sorry. The pit in his chest sank deeper as he realized how not sorry he was.

  “Don’t be.” Her flippant tone settled his nerves.

  There was a part of him that wanted to push her for more, wondering why she seemed so unfazed at the reminder - but another part of him hesitated in case he heard something he didn't want to hear. Instead, he continued on with his explanation.

  “Last year, Sumbria ignored Madame Potts’ Casts… and Pirate Abra took advantage of the fact.” Bastian sighed. “This year, her band of Misfit Undead have changed their usual raiding pattern, hitting Drendil and Sumbria like never before."

  "I know." Peregrine said, "My father has been overwhelmed dealing with the aftermath."

  Bastian added, "Drendil has a functioning navy that's holding it's own, but you're their number one trading partner, and if Sumbria is on fire then Drendil has to look elsewhere."

  “Is that why Drendil finally attacked the Dark Enchanted Forest?” Peregrine put the pieces together herself. “They're so desperate for a land trade route, they'd even go to war with an evil sentient kingdom--"

  "Nilheim isn't that evil," Bastian countered. "It's just... slightly carnivorous, and full of dire wolves."

  "I've never been so I'll have to take your word for it," She nodded. "Either way, land trade won't work for Sumbria. The royals still haven't forgiven Servalt for the revolution twenty years ago, and we can’t fight them as we are now either.”

  “Exactly.” The Sumbrian nation was a fractured and weak version of what it once was. The Grand Pontiff Zane Markle, also known as the Steward of Life, was the only reason the elves of Sumbria were still a respected nation at all - bringing an abundance of luxury foods for trade. Their defense was as small as they were.

  And now their navy was decimated, so Peldeep had offered to help.

  “Now here’s the secret,” Bastian lifted his free hand and placed a single finger to his lips, “We actually signed a new trade agreement with Servalt two months back and were already going to be sending more ships past Sumbria. The trade negotiation, ship catalogue, safety reviews, trade routes, inventory and so on are already being handled by the Peldeep Commerce Guild and seconded by one of Servalt's royal aids. The Crown Prince of Servalt is going to use us to undermine their corrupt merchants and any nobles that are supporting them - like the Marquess Chadwick from last night, I imagine. What I mean to say," Bastian coughed, "is that Peldeep was already sending war ships through Sumbria to fight off Pirate Abra and work with Servalt."

  Peregrine’s eyes went wide. “Then this marriage…”

  "Was a pleasant surprise," Bastian squeezed her hand. "And something that Sumbria was adamant to include - if for no other reason then to get a Sumbrian noble into the Emerald Palace... they might be angry when they find out that I don't live in the palace."

  Peregrine considered, "The point stands that we need materials and labor to help rebuilt some of our ports."

  Holding her hand helped Bastian ignore the twist in his gut as he said what he'd started this conversation to say. "Yes, but our ships should be arriving in Sumbria with all of the construction materials before the wedding... I don't want you to feel trapped Peregrine, if you aren't happy in Peldeep, or if we don't work out, we can break the contract - and as long as the materials have been delivered, Sumbria will be fine to rebuild with their own architects. If you break the contract, Sumbria will have to pay a sizable fine and allow for an additional year of free trade with Peldeep over and above the contract term. The Continental Council is even bound to enforce it, so trade won't suffer and Peldeep will still be using the ports just like we wanted. You'll be stuck with [Bond Breaker] for a year and a day, reducing your attributes down to 10 points, but you could go home.

  "If I break the contract," Bastian added, "Peldeep will forfeit all of the building materials to Sumbria without charge, and pay a fine on top of that. The new Sumbrian trade office remains in Peldeep, and I get [Bond Breaker] for a year and a day..."

  Peregrine stared at him, her face unreadable.

  "I'll show you the contract to verify the terms when we get to Peldeep." Bastian added to reassure her. He wondered if she knew that he would break the contract for her in a heartbeat - and might follow her home if she left him. Her house was big enough to fit him and all of his crafting materials. Their Royal Highness would have to find a new head royal guard. This was not a healthy or helpful train of thought, he told himself.

  "I read the contract Bastian," Peregrine finally spoke, and she didn't sound all that reassured. "Are you already thinking that we won't work out?"

  "NO!" He stated loudly. Too loudly. Calming down, he repeated. "No, I don't. I just thought we should talk about it like partners and, I don't know, make a plan. In case you regret marrying me."

  "I have no regrets." Peregrine said, adding with a delicate side eye. "But we aren't married yet - so I reserve the right to change my mind."