"Jack!"
He lifts his nodding head and blinks rapidly before looking guiltily over at Amber. He barely slept last night, too worried about Ben, about the Selenans, about Tarr, about the Lunanovans. When there's so much to worry about, who has time for sleep? By his side, Pitch had been awake too, but neither of them spoke, not wanting to infect the other with their worries. By the time Jack had curled up against Pitch and drifted off, it was time to wake. Not even dawn yet-
"Jack," Amber says again, exasperated. "Are you listening?"
"Sorry," he says, yawning. "I didn't get much sleep last night."
"I know that feeling," Amber sighs, and gestures at the breakfast. Ivor's brought it into the reception room for them to share. "You want some porridge?"
He nods and lets her spoon it out into bowls while he pours them both tea, sweetening it with honey. Though he isn't hungry, he eats anyway. Perhaps it will rejuvenate him; with another day full of meetings, he needs it.
"I'm surprised you're not down at the archives with the king," Amber says, sipping at her tea.
"I'd have liked to, but when Pitch told me that the head librarian would be there, I decided against it."
"Roth?" Amber nods sympathetically. "He's a bit of a viper."
"He wouldn't let me go to the magical archives because he said I'd steal the books, being Selenan and all."
Amber blinks at him. "He truly said that? Did you tell the king?"
"No. Kal said I should but..." Jack trails off as the too-familiar claw of grief hooks itself into his heart.
"Perhaps you should tell him now. Especially with the Selenans talking about how they've been mistreated - I'm not sure if it's a good idea to have someone like that in such an important position."
"I don't want him to lose his livelihood just because he was mean to me."
"It's more than that-"
"I'll think about it." Jack winces at how short he sounds. Amber merely raises an eyebrow and then concentrates on her porridge. Jack rubs his eyes and then sighs. Tiredness is no excuse for being snappish. He reaches into the pocket of his bedrobe to touch the crystal that Ombric gave to him. It's become a habit for him to carry it around so that he always has something to calm him when he needs it. It's a poor replacement for Nightlight, but it will have to do. "There's too much going on right now to concentrate on anything else. All this with Tarr and the Selenans - Onyx must be so upset about it."
Amber stops with her spoon halfway to her mouth, and then puts it down with a sigh. "She's never really gotten along with Tarr, but in a way that makes it worse. She has all these ideas that it's her fault somehow - that if she was a better daughter he wouldn't have done this." She shakes her head, her long silver earrings swaying with the movement. "Logically, she knows it's not true. But then, she wonders, what is?"
"What do you think? Why did he do it?"
"Who knows? Tarr's always had a taste for power. Maybe it's as simple as that."
"I was thinking though - the timing." Jack licks his lips, feeling the dull thud of his pulse in the base of his throat. This is one of the things that kept him awake. It seemed too improbable to bother Pitch with and yet his mind fixated on it. "It seems almost - almost as if it might be a distraction. From Ben."
Amber looks thoughtful and swirls her spoon in the bowl. "I suppose. I can't see how Ben would have contacted Tarr, though."
"The Selenans said that people had spoken to them, tried to convince them to join Ben. Couldn't they do the same to Tarr?"
"It could be-"
"And Ben's been part of the negotiations between Lunanoff and Umbra for years," Jack adds, his words coming out in a rush. "Just think how many people Ben could have spoken to - maybe even brought over to his side. Tarr was one of Pitch's most trusted allies. It makes you wonder who we can trust. If we can trust anyone."
Stillness settles over Amber, and she looks at him carefully. "You have to, Jack. You can't let him hurt you like this. He's hurt you enough already."
Jack gives a broken-glass laugh and puts a hand to his scar-sigils. "Yes, he has. But this isn't about me."
"It is. It's about what he did to you-"
"I don't want to talk about it." Jack keeps his voice flat, but his heart is starting to race. Memories that he's been trying to ignore patter at him like rain against a window - not painful, not yet, but constant to the extent that he can't ignore it.
"I know, I understand - but you should. You really should. If you don't, it will fester - it will only get worse-"
Jack shakes his head. "I'm not in his dungeons any more. I count that as better, not worse."
"No, but if you don't talk about it-"
"I said I don't want to talk about it!" Ghostly pain, not quite real, tingles across the scar-sigils. With it comes flashes of memory, of each cut in his skin, and he hears himself give a broken sound as he stands up, barely noticing the thud of his chair as it hits the floor. It's suddenly hard to breathe and he opens a window, leaning out and sucking in cold lungfuls of air. He stares intently at the snowy ground and concentrates on not thinking, not remembering. It works, but he can feel the memories there, insidious, waiting, infinitely patient. Whenever his guard is down, they'll overcome him. Like the shadows that dragged him to Ben-
The wind grabs him and rushes him outside, a powerful gust of cold wind pulling him high above the palace roof. His limbs shake and his heart races and he wants to run run run, but there is nowhere to go, nowhere that he can escape from the memories that are clawing at him. He pauses, feeling like a coiled spring, and stares at the edge of the forest. The trees are silhouetted against the dark sky, a ribbon of grey on the horizon heralding the dawn. Anger twists in him – not at Amber but at Ben and Riann. The desire for vengeance flares in him but is quickly extinguished by fear. He's not in the dungeons anymore, no, but in some ways he never left. He's still here, manacled in Riann's torture chamber, the poker glowing in the brazier-
He screams, anger cresting, and the light flurry of snow thickens to a blizzard in the space of a breath.
"Jack!" Amber. Jack looks down to see her staggering out onto Pitch's balcony, the wind making her steps a struggle. Her red dress is a flash of brightness glimpsed between raging snowflakes. "Jack - I'm sorry! Please come down."
The fear in her voice dashes his anger from him, and suddenly he's just so tired. The snow eases and he moves closer to the balcony though he stays in the air, ready to flee if he needs to.
She comes to the wall and rests her pale hands on the snowy ledge. Her expression is stricken. "Jack, I'm sorry." She says again and shakes her head. "I shouldn't have pushed you so hard." He doesn't say anything. "It's just – I know what it's like. And I know it's only going to get worse if you don't talk about it."
"How do you know? How could you have any idea of what it's like, to have – to have that happen to you? To try and deal with it?"
She touches her eyepatch. "I know, Jack. I know."
He stares at her.
Amber looks away. "It took me a long time to talk to anyone. Even then, I couldn't bring myself to talk to Onyx. She tried to help, but I couldn't admit those things to her. In the end, the only person I could bring myself to talk to was someone else who knew what it was like. but even then, it was hard. I remember feeling like everyone was pushing me to talk when I wasn't ready - and I just did that to you. I'm sorry."
"You were - someone - did that - they...?" He can't bring himself to say the word. Torture. It seems so melodramatic.
She nods and then hugs herself, for comfort or maybe from cold - her dress isn't much protection against the freezing temperatures and still-falling snow. "I should have known better than to push you. I remember what it's like - only too well."
"But - you get better, right?" The note of desperation in his voice makes Jack wince. "All this - fear. Anger. It goes away. Right?"
She shakes her head minutely. "It gets better. But it never goes away."
The words make Jack want to fly away again, but this is something that's a part of him; distance won't change anything. He suddenly feels as if he weighs as much as the whole palace. "I don't want to feel like this."
"I know. I'll do anything I can to help."
"I don't think I'm ready to talk about it yet." He sighs. "Nor do I have the time."
"It can be good to keep busy. You should see the size of the royal wardrobe in Blenkeld; I wasn't even the Royal Dresser at the time. Sewing kept me busy, gave me something to concentrate on. And it got me this job," she says with a fleeting smile, and then rubs at her arms. "Will you come back inside, Jack?"
After a moment, he nods. After all the times he's misstepped, he can forgive her this once. Besides, maybe she's right. Maybe it will help to talk about it - at some point.
"Alright. But for today, can we just - not? I've got so much to think about and I - I just want some things to be normal. Or as normal as they can be. Once all this with Tarr and the Selenans is sorted - then I'll think about it."
She nods. "Alright, Jack. Whenever you're ready, I'm here for you."
Back in the rooms, Jack gets his wish for normalcy. Amber gives him a handful of clothes, and Jack goes into the bathroom to change. It's another cross between Lunanovan and Umbran styles, dark blue trousers and a royal tunic with silver embroidery in a Lunanovan pattern, scattered with moons and stars. It's rather pretty, though when Jack glances in the mirror he can't say the same of himself. The lack of sleep is telling in the bruises under his eyes, the paleness of his skin showing blue veins beneath. He sighs and rubs his eyes. Reminding himself that he was the one who offered to help out at these meetings, he goes back into the dressing room. He and Amber look at each other, measuring, seeing where they stand with one another. Amber is the first one to smile, but only just; Jack's own chases it a second later. They aren't very good at staying angry with each other.
"Come here," Amber says. "Let's make you look pretty for your meetings."
She applies more makeup than usual, paying special attention to the dark circles under his eyes. A little colour over his lids, some blush on his cheeks. When she lifts a mirror so that he can see himself, he stares at his reflection.
"Are you sure you don't have magic, Amber?"
She laughs and pats his shoulder. "I'm just good at what I do."
A little jewellery – a sapphire drop in his ear, a few rings on his fingers – and then she picks up a silver-handled brush and pulls it through his hair.
"How are you finding all these meetings?"
"Pitch's councillors are a little boring. I guess they'd be even more boring if they were just talking about mining laws and tax increases. The meeting with the Selenans was definitely not boring. They seemed to be arguing with each other as much as they were making demands of Pitch."
"And is the king going to meet their demands?"
"I don't think he can – not all of them, anyway." He worries his lip ring with his tongue. "You don't think they'd really declare war, would they? I mean, if they wanted independence they'd have just joined Lord Tarr."
A small noise interrupts them, and Jack glances in the mirror to see Jasper push in through the door. He pads over to them and leaps onto Jack's lap.
"You're supposed to be looking after the princess," Amber tells the cat, as though he could reply. "I hope you didn't wake her." Jasper looks up at her and makes the noise again before settling into Jack's lap. "And now you're getting fur all over Jack's clothes."
"It's alright," Jack says, carefully stroking his back. Jasper purrs at his touch. Here is someone who won't ask him to talk, won't ask awkward questions. All he needs to do to make Jasper happy is stroke him. Finally, a task Jack feels capable of.
"He's always getting in the way," Amber says fondly, reaching down to scratch his head and the purring gets louder. "About the Selenans, though - you're probably right. It is a possibility though, however small." He twists to look over his shoulder at her, and she tuts at him, putting his head back where it was so that she can finish his hair. "Very small. There aren't that many Selenans compared to the population as a whole."
"If there is war – what will happen?"
Amber is quiet as she picks up a jar of wax to style his hair. She's quiet too as she dips her fingers in it and runs them through his hair, teasing it into shape. "War with the north, war with Benard to the south – we'd be in a difficult situation to be sure. It's hard to say until we hear from the Sinaran Empress."
Jack blinks. "You know that Pitch has contacted the Sinaran Empress?"
"I know everything that the king rants about while I'm dressing him," Amber says with a laugh. "My main knowledge of the king is either that which angers him or that which upsets him."
Jack pauses, thinking. "So which do I come under?"
"You're in a category all of your own. He worries over you. He has ever since you first came to Umbra, and I think he always will. But mostly he moons over you. How lovely you are, how beautiful. A thing you said that made him smile; something you did that he admired."
Jack blushes. "I didn't know he said such things about me."
"Oh, he doesn't, not to anyone else. The relationship between a king and his dresser is a sacred thing. Almost like confessors to the laity." Her voice is soft with a note of humour, but Jack wonders how much truth is behind the jest.
She sets a circlet upon his head, the same one as before, and then stands back to admire her work. "There. You can barely tell that you've been awake all night."
"Perhaps I'll manage to catch up on my sleep in the meeting."
It's a joke, but he comes close a couple of times. This time the councillors do talk of taxes and laws, in great detail. They get the huge books down from the shelf and discuss the nuances in the third paragraph on page 361. It continues along the same vein, and Jack is on the verge of falling asleep for the fifth time when he hears,
"Well, there's always the option of a royal betrothal, which would go a long way towards pleasing the Selenans." That's Councillor Brennan, a lowborn man with watery eyes that he rubs every few minutes.
Jack sits up straighter and gulps down some water in an attempt to stay alert.
"It could be more than that - a betrothal could cement the treaty with the Lunanovans, and ensure their good behaviour," says Paman, sitting forward and steepling his bejewelled fingers. "Lady Onyx could marry one of the Lunanovan princes – North and Bunnymund."
"Or a high-ranking Selenan; there's a lord in the north-east, the lands have been in his family for years. He's quite handsome, so I hear-"
"I will not trade Onyx off like she's a bale of hay," Pitch says flatly. Though the councillors nod in automatic agreement with their king, they pay little mind to his words.
"It's something we must consider," Paman says. "There's too much at stake to ignore such a potentially fruitful alliance."
"Your highness, she's second in line to the throne," says Lita. "It's her duty to marry well, just as it was yours when you married the queen. Not to mention that it is her duty to produce an heir. Being only half highborn it is possible that she might have several children, to be heirs in case anything should happen to the princess."
Lita gets a very cold look directed at her, but she doesn't look away and she doesn't back down. For all that Pitch is king, Jack is coming to realise that he doesn't always get his own way.
"Besides, your highness, that was before this business with the Lunanovans and Selenans," says Paman. "If her marriage can bring about a secure peace, it must be done. Especially with her status as Lady of the North."
There are nods of agreements from most of the councillors, and no-one speaks up for Onyx. Jack frowns. This is all too similar to his last day in Lunanoff.
"Shouldn't she at least be part of these discussions?" he asks, and Pitch gives him a look of gratitude.
"Jack is right," he says. "We will have no more discussion of this until she is here."
"What about yourself then, your highness?" Mika says. "What if you were to marry?"
It's possible that he's only saying that to be argumentative, or to needle Pitch, but Jack's heart leaps into his throat and his head snaps to look at Pitch; he's glad to see that Pitch's eyes are narrowed. The possibility of Pitch's remarrying has occurred to him since he was told of Karine's death, and each time he pushed the thought aside as if it was a candle he could extinguish. He can't stand the idea of having to share Pitch. Perhaps that has worked for previous courtesans and consorts, but not him.
"Princess Toothiana could be a good prospect," Mika continues. "Especially if you could get a child on her. I know it's unlikely at your age, but with a non-highborn partner it's a possibility."
Jack's mouth drops open. His sister and Pitch? Oh, he can just picture it. How lovely they would look, Tooth's gemstone colours against Pitch's grey and black. His mind helpfully provides an image of Pitch naked in his bed, Tooth by his side, and Jack's skin crawls. "No," he hisses, but no-one seems to hear.
"We've never had a consort who wasn't highborn," points out Councillor Brennan with pursed lips. "I know that in recent decades it's become more acceptable, but a royal child that isn't pure-blooded-"
"Princess Seraphina has Selenan blood from her mother's side," Mika says dismissively. "That's not as important anymore. The important thing will be the union. Perhaps a half-Selenan child would be exactly what is needed to make an alliance concrete-"
"Pitch isn't marrying Tooth," Jack snaps, getting to his feet and glaring at the lot of them. "If you want him to marry a Selenan he can marry me."
He means it as a throwaway comment, something to startle them from their endless discussions, but the councillors – and Pitch – all look at him in a silence that stretches out until one councillor says, thoughtful,
"Perhaps that would be an even better choice. True, there could be no child, but the Selenans put much value on Jack, looking as he does like their moon god."
"That's true. And if they see it as an affront that he was taken as courtesan, then surely elevating him to consort will please them."
"Get out," Pitch snaps, slamming his hand on the table. When all the councillors stare at him, he jabs a finger towards the door. "Leave. I need to talk to Jack. Now!"
Grumbling, the councillors file out, and Jack's heart sinks. It's too soon after Pitch has found out about Karine's death to make a jest like that, Jack knows it. The few times that Pitch has been truly angry with him, more often than not it was a mention of Karine.
"I'm sorry," Jack says, wondering if he'll ever be able to stop saying such stupid things; if he'll ever be able to stop apologising.
"Why are you sorry?" Pitch's voice is soft, and Jack dares to look up at him. His eyes are gentle, and Jack lets himself relax a little.
"Because of what I said. Because - of course I can't take Karine's place."
"You can't, but that doesn't mean you can't be my consort. I didn't know you had even considered it - that you would want that."
Jack looks at him, carefully. "But - you want that?"
"Of course."
Jack goes perfectly still. He hardly dares breathe. This - has to be a dream. Can't be real. Jack knows Pitch loves him but the councillors were right, Pitch needs more heirs. No-one has ever wanted Jack when they could have someone better than him instead.
His eyes flick up and meet Pitch's. He's sitting silently, letting Jack think, but the intensity in his eyes makes Jack gasp. It makes him a little hard, too. No-one has ever looked at Jack with even a hundredth of the emotion as Pitch does. It makes him feel - wanted. Adored. Special. Maybe even special enough to be a consort.
He sucks in a shuddering breath. Oh. Oh.
"You mean it," he says, dimly, and Pitch touches his chin, tilting his head up to meet his eyes.
"With everything I am, I mean it."
Jack's heart leaps, buoyed by reckless joy that obliterates his doubt. He launches himself at Pitch and kisses him, throwing everything into it. He remembers the kisses on his balcony; in his garden; the many kisses in their bed, in the royal residences, in Santoff Claussen. Wonderful kisses, whether sweet or simmering, but none of them have anything on this.
When Jack finally pulls away, he's awkwardly sitting in Pitch's lap, one of Pitch's hands on his lower back to steady him. They smile at one another and the dawn seems to have a new brightness to it, the fusty council room a new charm.
"My consort," Pitch murmurs, tasting the word and holding Jack's gaze captive.
"My king," Jack says, smiling, and Pitch pulls him in for another searing kiss that leaves Jack breathless and shivering.
"When we get back tonight I am going to ravish you, Jack." A pause; a hungry smile. "If you want me to, of course."
"Oh, I want it," Jack says, and settles more comfortably in Pitch's lap. He rests his hands on Pitch's chest, feeling it rise and fall, feeling the warmth of his breath on his lips. Jack smiles and leans in, pressing his lips to Pitch's. Something he intended to be slow and teasing becomes hot and desperate as Pitch takes control of it. Jack shivers and leans in closer, his hands sliding up to wrap around Pitch's neck. The heat of the kiss lights a fire in both of them, and as much as Jack would like to continue, he's uncomfortably aware that the councillors are just outside.
"When we get back from Dun Doras," he promises in a whisper. "Then you can tie me up. Put me where you want me. Where I want to be. Ravish me, like you said."
"You have my promise, Jack," Pitch says in a rich, deep voice threaded through with want. One last darting kiss, and then Jack stands, rearranging his clothes to hide the beginnings of an erection. Once he's taken his seat, Pitch calls out for the councillors to return.
"I have discussed the matter with Jack, and I think it's an excellent idea. We should start making arrangements immediately."
There's surprisingly little objection. All the councillors seem to be in agreement. They agree to wait to hear from the Empress before announcing the betrothal, so that they have a better idea of where they stand, and they agree to wait until Alden is present before anything is finalised. Jack wonders if there's any chance that the meeting with the Selenans will go so smoothly.
The rest of the meeting wraps up quickly; an agreement over what will be offered to the Selenans immediately; what will be looked at in the future. The whole time Pitch keeps hold of Jack's hand, and a smile never leaves Jack's face.
Aleksis's cozy living room seems like a strange place for Jack to fight his brother.
Yet here they are, sparks crackling over Jack's skin and North towering over him, glaring over the top of his head at Pitch. With his brother in another fussy Lunanovan concoction of layered lace and glittering damask, the whole situation seems outlandish, like a badly-costumed play. But the anger in the room is very real, like a choking smoke poisoning the air.
"He is not marrying you," North thunders, his hands curled tightly into fists.
"You think you have a say in the matter?" Pitch asks with deadly softness as shadows dance threateningly on the walls.
"This is my decision, North," Jack says, trying to hold onto his wriggling temper.
"You are forcing him into it," North says to Pitch as though Jack isn't even there, and Jack leaps into the air so that they are of a height and then leans in until their faces are only a foot apart. Jack gives North the most ferocious glare he can muster and makes the temperature of the room plummet. Let North try and ignore that.
"No-one is forcing me into anything," he says, each word clipped. "For once in my life perhaps someone in my family could pay attention to me."
North shakes his head. "You're being coerced, Jack-"
Jack's temper spikes - how dare North take something that fills Jack with such joy and try to twist it - but before he can act, Pitch steps forward, almost as close as Jack is and even angrier.
"How dare you! Insult me if you like but do not treat Jack like he's a child. After all that he's done your people, after everything he's given up, the least you can do is listen to him-"
Jack jerks back as a wall of shadow slams up between them, and looks to Pitch - but Pitch is looking at Onyx, who has risen from her chair. She is pale and exhausted, and she looks like she is at the end of her patience.
"Stop it," she says, her hands in fists by her sides. "What good is this doing anyone? I am too tired and too heartsore to deal with this posturing. Prince North, you need to have more faith in your brother. He might be young, but he is wise beyond his years. I haven't been involved with this betrothal, but I saw him make the decision to stay as Pitch's courtesan. He asked questions, he thought everything through. No-one coerced him; the decision was his alone. I am confident that the same is true now."
"I agree," Alden says. "He is a clever young man and if this betrothal was his idea, it's a smart choice. It will please the Selenans, and it will show all of Umbra how much value the king puts on your people. It's very well done."
"Not to mention that I want this," Jack says, still riding the wind to stay at North's height. "You forced me to come here, to give up my freedom and my happiness. Instead I've found both of those things, more than I ever had in Lunanoff. Will you truly try and deny me that?"
North's jaw tightens, but he shakes his head, once.
"Now please sit," Onyx says, gesturing at the chairs. "And let's discuss what we're going to tell the Selenans."
The discussion is somewhat strained, and North doesn't say a word. He just sits there radiating anger, and Jack is very tempted to throw a snowball at him.
The others talk until Aleksis declares that it is time to leave.
"I think the Selenans will be well pleased," Alden says as he gathers up his notes.
"I hope so," Onyx says wearily.
Aleksis pulls open the curtains and the dim early morning light trickles in. It's still snowing lightly, as it was outside the palace. It softens everything, and it eases Jack's heart. Let North grumble. He has no say in Jack's life, not anymore.
The others pull on cloaks but Jack declines when Aleksis offers to lend him one.
Aleksis and Alden step outside, talking of adjustments to the travel circle. The open door lets in a delightfully frosty breeze, but before Jack can follow them out North touches his shoulder.
Jack jerks away and glares up at him. Regret lights North's eyes and he bows his head before stepping back, giving Jack space.
"Please. Can I speak to you? Alone?"
"What do you want?"
"I-" North glances up at Pitch and the regret shifts to anger. "Something I would not say in the presence of others."
"Whatever you have to say, just say it." He hopes that North will give up; he's had enough of this for one day.
"Besides," Pitch says from Jack's side, where he stands with Onyx. "There's no possible way that I'm going to leave Jack alone with you."
North rounds on him with sparking eyes and bared teeth. These two seem incapable of civil discussion, Jack thinks and rolls his eyes.
"So you trust me to help make treaties, but you don't trust me to spend time with my little brother?"
"Considering the way that you've treated your brother, no, I don't." They glare at one another with the heat of such intense dislike that Jack's almost afraid the air is going to combust.
"Just say it, North."
"I wanted to ask you about this betrothal," North says, looking down at Jack. "As I was trying to say before - I want to be sure that this is truly your desire. That you are not being forced into this."
"Not this time," Jack says tightly. "How many times must you be told? It was my idea that initiated the betrothal. I want this. I want Pitch. I want peace between Umbra and all those of Selenan ancestry - Lunanovans and Umbrans and everyone else, too. Ben should be proud," Jack says with a brittle smile. "He's taught me so well about the value of political matches."
"But if it's just a political match-"
"Of course it's not. I love Pitch. I love his daughter. They're my family, and they care more for me than you ever did. Is there anything else, North? Because I really have no desire to bandy words about all day. We have a meeting to get to."
North's lips thin. "Perhaps we can talk again once we're settled in our new home. Everyone will have many questions for you."
"I'm sure I'll have plenty of questions for them, too," Jack says and follows Aleksis out onto the street.
The snow has eased, and small flakes flurry in the dim morning light. Jack pauses to take deep, calming breaths.
"I'm happy for you," Aleksis says and Jack opens his eyes. He's leaning against the wall, hands hidden beneath his cloak. The fur collar of Aleksis's cloak is dark, and contrasts pleasantly against his pale skin. Once more the wish that he looked more like Aleksis rises in Jack, a little tickle of jealousy. A small smile is on Aleksis's lips, and though there is sadness in his eyes the smile seems real enough.
"You were with Pitch once," Jack says.
"More than once. But it was not like with the two of you. I can see Pitch's desire for you, the way his heart answers yours. And I am happy for you both."
Not that Jack knows him well, but he thinks that Aleksis is sincere in his well wishes. Jack nods his thanks.
He doesn't want to know, not really, but the he can't help himself. "Did you never think you might wear a consort's crown yourself?"
Aleksis grins. "I'd be lying if I said no. When I was younger, before I had experience the tribulations of leadership. That experience put me off the idea. No, the Selenans of Dun Doras are enough of a handful for me. You are very welcome to the vast responsibilities of a consort."
The others step outside. Pitch and North are still giving each other baleful looks, but Onyx's diplomacy seems to have stopped - or at least delayed - all out violence.
Together they set off towards the hall. Purposefully Jack takes Pitch's hand, and his lips twitch into a smile when North scowls.
The streets have been cleared, the snow pushed against the walls of the houses, as high as the windows and sometimes higher. Jack reaches up to the clouds with his magic and instantly knows that the snow will fall all day, though lightly.
Early as it is, there are few people on the streets, though a few glance curiously out of windows. The only noise comes from a man whose cart has a squeaky wheel, and the caw of a crow in the bare trees. It's peaceful.
Inside the hall is a different matter. The instant they step into the entry, there is a rumble of chaos from inside the hall. Two of Aleksis's mages are standing just inside the door to greet them.
"They are all here," one of them says. "They've been here ten minutes or so and instantly started to disagree."
"Of course they did," Aleksis sighs.
He strides into the hall and yells out for quiet as he introduces them, and the noise is reduced to mumbling. Even so, Jack hears moon god again and bites down on a sigh.
From their high seats, Jack looks out on their audience. The seating arrangements have changed. Samson is surrounded by men like himself: serious, angry, ever-present frowns. The woman who talked about the moon god is seated amongst people who have a crescent moon set prominently on their clothes or jewellery, and well-dressed, wealthy looking types are near Obol. They've found their people, divided into factions. Whether that is a good thing or not, Jack isn't sure.
Pitch looks out at the gathered people. "As promised, I have discussed things with my councillors, and have things to offer you. Firstly, Onyx will take her father's place as warden a temporary measure, until a successor can be appointed-"
"Why her?" Asks an old woman, sitting near Samson and mirroring his folded arms. "Just because she's his daughter?"
"Because she is my personal advisor, and I trust her more than any other. I know she will do a good job."
"You thought her father would do a good job," someone mutters.
"She was supposed to listen to us and bring you our complaints, but that never happened."
"I came to Norkyle every month, and returned south with long lists that I gave to Pitch and his councillors," says Onyx in a too-even voice. "But I was there to listen to everyone from the north – I couldn't see everyone who wanted to be seen. Besides – Lord Tarr held court most days. You could always have taken your complaints to him."
"Not if they were about him. You should have helped us, but you did nothing!"
"Now, that's not true," says one of Obol's lackies. " Lady Onyx helped me with the land quarrel I had with my neighbour. Everything was sorted, just as it should have been."
"She helped us get money to fix the windows in our temple."
"Well I didn't even get seen!"
"Oh, well I did, for all the good that did me. Nothing has changed, not one thing!"
"I am the king's personal advisor," Onyx says. "I can't make him change his mind and I can't make his decisions for him."
"No, but you can be there," Samson says, not bothering to stand. Everyone turns to look at him. "You say you came north every month, yet how long has it been since you came to hear our complaints?"
There's a rare moment of silence as they wait on her answer. She's in front of Jack and he can't see her face, but her head bows. "Three months. My father kept ignoring my requests for a meeting, and then with the first attempted kidnapping of Jack, I was so busy-"
"Too busy to attend to your people? You are the Lady of the North! You have responsibilities - to us, not to these southerners!"
"I do - but I have responsibilities to the king as well." Her voice is tight, and when she pauses, Jack hears her take in a deep, slow breath. "But you are right. I have been neglecting my duties. While I am acting as warden, I will hold court and listen. Anything I can resolve, I will; anything else, I will make sure reaches the king. You have my word."
The Selenans glance at each other. "We'll see," someone says, and that seems to be the prevailing mood.
Yarrow stands and comes up to the dais, giving a smart bow. "If I may, your highness - if Lady Onyx is only a temporary warden, who will take Lord Tarr's place?"
"I don't yet know," Pitch says. "I will begin to look for a new one immediately. If any of your own are interested in the position, you are welcome to make yourself known to me. In any case, I will make sure that whoever they are, they are aware of your needs and that they have a Selenan amongst their councillors. Again, if you know of any who might enjoy such a position, they are very welcome to make themselves known."
Yarrow pauses, and Jack is half expecting him to apply immediately, but instead he nods. "We will discuss it when we arrive back in Norkyle. I'm sure there are many of us who would be valuable councillors to the new warden."
"Then let us talk about what my councillors and I have agreed; then we can talk about matters for the future. Now: the taxes. I have looked at our records, and I have looked at the papers that Yarrow gave to me yesterday. There are inconsistencies. Until this can be fully investigated, I am ordering that the taxes return to what they were a year ago." There is a rumble of approval around the room; lower taxes are something everyone can agree on. "Now, yesterday I mentioned that you could come before me and speak your needs directly. We have discussed this, and this will happen every two months. Remember, though, that you are always welcome to come to court in Iscadin, as is every Umbran. As Onyx said, you can bring your concerns to her as well."
There are more dissenting voices, others that agree, and Pitch lets the noise settle before he continues. "Now. One of the points that you made yesterday came up again and again: Jack as a courtesan."
The ever-present grumbling reaches a crescendo.
"Yes – about how you only wanted him because he looks like the moon god!" Samson again - the man seems to have an opinion on everything. "A slap in the face to our culture and our beliefs."
"I assure you that was never my intention, not for a moment."
"Do you deny that one of the reasons you took Jack as your courtesan is his looks?
"I can't deny that; it's true. I was given a portrait by Benard, and I saw that he was beautiful."
"So you admit that the only reason you wanted him was because of his god-touched looks? That you just wished to make a mockery of that which we Selenans hold most dear?"
A slight pause; Jack hears Pitch exhale slowly. "Of course not. Jack was offered to me; I saw the portrait and found him attractive. Considering it was a Lunanovan who offered me the treaty, I thought - perhaps mistakenly - that it was acceptable. Securing peace was my only intention."
There's another ripple of noise in the room, but before it can crest, Pitch speaks again.
"But I have an announcement to make regarding Jack." Pitch reaches over to take Jack's hand, and looking at him as if awaiting permission. Jack gives it with a nod, feeling nervousness collide with excitement. Will this be as well received as they hope, or will their reaction be more like North's? "We have discussed it, he and I. What we mean to each other is undeniable, and that will not change, no matter what labels we give each other. And yet, he is my courtesan because of an agreement with Benard of Lunanoff, an agreement that I think we can all agree is void. So Jack is no longer my courtesan-" A roar of chatter that doesn't stop when Pitch holds his hand up for silence. Pitch doesn't bother to shout to make himself heard; instead he sits in silence, watching them. Various words come to Jack out of the chaos - disgrace and casting him aside - but eventually it is Aleksis who bellows for silence, striding forward to glare at all of them.
"Whatever your grievances, this is your king! The least you can do is listen to him when he talks!"
The shouting dies down to occasional angry burbles, and Pitch waits still until he gets silence. "I said before that I would not have taken Jack as my consort because I believed that Queen Karine was still alive. Her death has recently been confirmed, and though I grieve, that doesn't mean that I love Jack any less. And so together, listening to your concerns and our own hearts, we have decided to marry and unite our peoples."
Another roar of noise. Aleksis's shoulders are square and he moves slightly to stand before the dais, to protect them from any attack. But none is forthcoming. In fact, most of the reaction seems to be positive. There are smiles, even claps of delight. The woman who works in the temple is talking excitedly to her fellows, and she's sitting close enough that Jack can hear her talking of a prophecy. Wonderful, he thinks. As if being 'god-touched' wasn't enough. Obol seems to be talking about supplying the wedding, and Jack feels his lips tilt in a half-smile.
With the room in a much-improved mood, Pitch turns the talk to other matters: those requests that can be met, those that are in progress. Those that are to be denied are followed with suggestions of how a similar outcome could be achieved. Once more Jack sees Pitch-the-diplomat, and just as with the Fintan ambassador things start to go his way.
They start to discuss the Lunanovan exodus, and various of the Selenans offer their assistance. Money, tents, healers; in return, North promises that they will bring what he can down from Lunanoff. Art, carvings, clothes; all things that are part of their shared Selenan culture.
"And the books, of course," North says. "Again, much of our library was destroyed but we will be happy to bring back what we have - if in turn we can examine your libraries."
Pitch gazes at North. "And what would you be looking for?"
"Anything that addresses cleansing magic. The more knowledge we have, the more likely it is we will be successful."
"You are welcome to look, though is nothing in those books that hasn't already been tried."
"By your people, perhaps," North says, and earns a death-glare from Pitch. "Or perhaps there will be something in them that, combined with our own knowledge, could be the key to cleansing the tainted lands."
"That is noble of you, Prince North," Yarrow says. "I am sure that all of us here are happy to offer our own knowledge and libraries, however big or small they might be."
Approval passes over the crowd like a wave.
"Whether or not we ourselves would wish to move to Selena, we would be happy to assist our fellows in anyway we can," Obol says. "And I believe we traders would have much to offer you."
"If you wish to trade, I'm sure we Lunanovans will be happy to do so," North says. "We don't have much thanks to Ben's traitorous followers destroying much before they left. But whatever we have left in gold and gems, we will gladly trade for food and warm clothes."
Obol glances at his fellows and then nods. "I am sure we will be able to help. Why, I have recently acquired an excellent supply on snow furs, something invaluable for those such as yourselves unaccustomed to the cold."
They start to talk of prices, haggling right there in the middle of the meeting. Jack frowns, but Samson's reaction is more visceral. He's been quiet since the announcement of the betrothal, but now he gets to his feet and storms to the front of the room, setting himself between Yarrow and Aleksis.
"You talk about trade as though that will solve all of our problems," he cries, but the good humour in the room dulls the impact of his anger.
"It can solve a great deal of problems," Obol says with a chuckle. "I trust a man a great deal more when I have some of his gold in my pocket."
His fellows nod and grin at each other; some of the others nod too.
"I want more than gold in order to trust someone." Samson glances up at Pitch before turning to the rest of the room. "And I don't want promises either - what good are words to me? I want action. I want my people safe! When people come to hear of Tarr and this Benard, they are going to think that all Selenans are traitors and madmen!"
"And when people see that I am betrothed to a Selenan; that I have made an agreement with Selenans to cleanse Umbran lands - they will see that Benard and Tarr are the exception rather than the rule," says Pitch. "They will see, as I do, that Selenans are and always have been trustworthy, hardworking people."
There are a few cheers then, followed by a few more. Even Samson's shoulders soften a little.
Still, he shakes his head; it's like his contradictory nature won't let him rest even when he has the response he wants. "They're nice words, and maybe some will even pay mind to them and change their minds about us. But what about those who treat us as they always have - try to swindle us, refuse to deal with us?"
"Some things we already have laws against, and you should bring such matters to your councillors," Pitch starts, but Samson's words trample over his.
"And some are not, but we are still being treated unfairly! We are being treated as if we are lesser than you highborns."
So he continues, and the good mood in the room starts to flicker. In moments, Jack is sure, the argument will start up again, the same as before. They don't have time for this.
Jack stands, but few people even look at him. Thinking of Pitch's methods to command attention with his magic, Jack reaches out and freezes the moisture in the air near the ceiling. Snowflakes fall slowly down to the floor, the tables. It takes a few seconds before the northerners notice that it's snowing in the room. There are a few confused expressions before someone says ice mage! and then all eyes turn to Jack.
Now that everyone is looking at him, sudden nervousness presses onto Jack. He licks his lips and forces himself to speak with anxiety lapping at him like little flames. "While we're discussing this Ben is out there, scheming. I know that your needs here and now are important, but we can't ignore him. He might be far away in Vonnya now, but make no mistake, he has not forgotten you. He was going to use me against you! He was going to use magic to force me to trick you-" He voice breaks; he swallows and takes a deep breath before continuing, clenching his shaking hands. "He was going to force me to tell you that I was on his side. That you should be too. He hoped that because I'm a Lunanovan prince, because I look like the moon god, that you would follow me. You accuse Pitch of wanting me because I look like the moon god? Pitch worships me, not as a god but as a man. If you want someone to hate, hate Ben. Pitch isn't the enemy. Onyx isn't either. Ben is. You say that Ben is going to make people think you're untrustworthy? Prove them wrong by defeating him! Show them what it is to be Selenan!"
Silence descents as Jack runs out of words. Without having realised it, he has a hand clutched to his chest, over the scar-sigils, but it looks like it is a gesture of his sincerity. Perhaps it is, at that.
There are more cheers, from more people, and Jack stares out at them, half-astonished that he has a managed to rouse such a fire in them, that so many people are paying attention to his words.
He realises that Samson is staring up at him. Jack looks right back, uncowed. Big and intimidating as Samson is, Jack has faced Ben and Riann; Samson doesn't scare him.
"And what will you do to show the masses what it is to be Selenan, Prince Jackson?"
"I will fight," Jack says, and ignores the way Pitch grips the arms of his chair so tightly that the wood creaks. "I will help the Lunanovans settle into their new home. I will listen to, and speak for, the Selenans as I promised I would. But I'll listen to everyone else, too. Anyone who is having difficulty being heard - I know what that's like. I'll help them-"
A sudden rush of cold air makes all of them glance at the doors. A young woman with brown skin and black hair has stepped into the hall, snowflakes a contrast against her hair and dark cloak. She glances at those gathered and then licks her lips nervously.
"Danne," Aleksis says, going to her. "We are in a meeting-"
"I know, but this is urgent," she says, and then goes up to the dais where she bows deeply to Pitch. "Your highness, I've received a message from the farspeakers of the north. Lord Tarr is in their custody."
The rooms breaks into an uproar, and Aleksis's demands for quiet do little good. Only when the room grows dark, shadows creeping over the windows and snuffing out candles, does the noise flicker into silence.
"Thank you," Pitch says, and allows the thin daylight back into the room. "Danne, speak. Captain Flint is good, but how has he found Tarr so quickly?"
"That's just it, your highness – he hasn't. Lord Tarr has turned himself in."
A/N: So sorry for the delay! I've been on vacation. I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for the favs and follows, and most of all for the lovely comments you've left. Thank you for reading, it makes me so happy to know that people enjoy what I've written. Don't forget to follow my tumblr for inspiration and fanart and Q and A's, and all sorts of other fun stuff - you can find the details on my profile :)