There was silence again, but less awkward than before. Her hand felt soft and I wondered if mine was too rough to be comfortable for her. I hoped that I had not become too rough for her.
Finally, I grinned and said, “I won’t eat meat if it’s been overcooked.” She glanced up at me, confused, and I added, “I thought you should know that, since we’re going to be friends now.”
Amarinda’s smile widened. “I think it’s unfair that women aren’t allowed to wear trousers. They seem far more comfortable than dresses.”
I chuckled. “They’re not. Every year I think fashion invents one more piece I have to add to my wardrobe.”
“And one more layer to my skirts.” She thought for a moment, then said, “I think it’s funny when you’re rude to the cook. I shouldn’t admit that, but his face turns all sorts of colors when you are and there’s nothing he can do about it.”
“He can overcook my meat.”
This time she laughed and even gave my hand a squeeze. We fell silent. After a while I said, “I won’t rule as my father did, and you can never expect me to be my brother. But I’ll rule the best way I can and hope it will be enough to make you a proud queen one day.”
“What about this day?” When she smiled at me, it was obvious that something had changed between us. She added, “Jaron, I’m proud of what you did for Carthya, proud that you trusted me to rule while you were gone. And I’m proud to be sitting beside you now. There are great things ahead for us.”
And for the first time since becoming king, I believed her.
It was late evening when we rode into Drylliad. Even then, the streets seemed quieter than usual and many of the homes were dark. Perhaps the time was much later than I had thought. Still tired, I laid my head against the seat as we entered through the castle gates. Fink parted the curtained windows of the carriage and tried to talk to me, but Harlowe firmly shushed him and told him to give me some silence.
So much had changed since I had left nearly two weeks ago. Some things were for the better. Carthya was safe from Gregor and a pirate attack, both Roden and Amarinda were with me, and the threat of a steward had passed. But not everything was how I wanted it. I vaguely wondered if my father would approve of what I’d done. Probably not, but I could accept that.
“Are you ready for this?” I asked Harlowe as our carriage stopped. “With all apologies, you’ll soon see what it means to be associated with me.” Whatever the people thought of me, I hoped they’d give Harlowe the respect he deserved.
Harlowe smiled back warmly. “A better question, Your Majesty, is if you are ready.”
He stepped out first, and I realized my courtyard was much better lit than it usually was at night. Then Harlowe held out a hand for Amarinda. When she exited the carriage, I began to hear noises outside, murmurs and the shuffling of feet.
Then Harlowe leaned in. “You’ll want help out of this carriage, sire.”
Angrily, I shook my head. “How many servants have gathered for this exhibition? I’ll do it myself before I have them laugh at my helplessness.”
Harlowe held out his hand to me. “Take my arm, please. Trust me.”
So I scooted closer to the door and he widened it for me. At first all I could see was the courtyard lined with torches, so bright I had to squint against the light. Then as I took my first steps onto the ground, a cheer thundered throughout the yard.
I hesitated at first, and without Harlowe to balance me I might have fallen. Was it possible that cheer had been for me? Smiling, Harlowe said, “So this is what you warned me about? What it means to be associated with you?”
I shook my head, not understanding. Then somewhere above me, I heard Kerwyn’s voice echo, “Hail His Majesty. Jaron, the Ascendant King of Carthya.” And more cheers followed.
At my side, Amarinda said, “Jaron the Ascendant. I like that. See your people welcome you home.”
Harlowe led me forward, to where the light wasn’t so harsh and I could have a better look. As far as I could see, the courtyard was packed with people. My people. Then slowly, almost reverently, they went to their knees and all fell silent.
Together, Mott and Kerwyn walked up to me. They bowed, and Kerwyn wiped tears from his eyes as he stood again. He shook his head as he stared at me.
“I know how I look,” I said.
But he only raised a corner of his mouth and replied, “No, I don’t think you have any idea what we all see in you.”
I was still confused. “Did you order the people to come?”
“They came on their own,” Kerwyn said. “After they heard what you’ve done for them.”
“But how —” Then my eyes narrowed. “Mott?”
“I might have mentioned it to a few people.” He chuckled as he spoke, clearly pleased with himself.
I looked over the crowd again, completely overwhelmed. Conner had told me I was king only by blood, not because it was what the people wanted. But that wasn’t true anymore. Tears welled in my eyes, bringing to the surface an emotion that I had always thought would forever linger out of my reach. I was at peace. Another battle, far greater than anything I’d faced with the pirates, was over.