Glory
By icecreamlova
4: Aftermath
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As their minds withdrew from their first true connection in years, done to turn away the hurricane that had been ravaging Summersea, Briar and Sandry staggered.
They stayed upright by clutching each other, although logic suggested that they ought to have pulled each other down.
"It's been too long since we did a joint project, if it's this hard for us to work like that again," Sandry said. "Together."
Briar snorted. "You've been busy with your duchess business, and not even we directed hurricanes for laughs. I understand that. I just don't know why you're playing host to Valent-"
"He's my heir," Sandry said. "That's the problem with an agreement that says I can't have any children: I have to pick my great-nephew instead." She brushed off her long skirts with a shaking hand, weary and almost without magic after the great working, and looked around her ruined throne room.
"Duchess," Briar said.
She smiled. "Your family will be worried about you." She pushed him, gently.
He ran to find them, just like Tris was no doubt running to find her family, and Daja to find hers. Sandry stayed in her throne room and reminded herself that Emelan was safe, and it ought to be enough.
'I'm fine,' she told Tris, picking up a bit of jagged marble that had been torn off a statue of her late uncle, Duke Vedris of Emelan. And she was. Sandry had learned, even before taking up the mantle of duchess and signing the agreement with Uncle's sons that meant she would bear no children, that ruling could be a very lonely thing.
- : -
Well?