Page 89 of His Disaster
The past four weeks had been the most emotional, and the happiest, of her life. Her unhappy marriage was behind her. Tian was dead. And in his place was a man who loved her with an openness and courage that allowed her to face her fears and love him back with the same determination.
Reaching out with her left hand, she entwined her fingers through Malik’s, drawing him to her side.
A slow smile stretched across his face. “They love you, My Lady.”
“They love you, too, it seems,” she teased back, squeezing his hand.
Indeed, the crowd was going wild at the sight of them standing upon the balcony together. News of Jenna’s lover had rippled over Staturine II within days of her arrival at Castle Valnor.
She’d been worried about a backlash, that the Mir-Brennan governors, who held stewardship over the various planets and stations in this territory, and the members of the wealthy elite, would step forward and declare her relationship with Malik scandalous. But none had. Sure, there had been whispers, yet no one had been bold enough to criticize her publicly.
Eventually, the cheering died away, an expectant hush settling over the square. The biting wind buffeted the balcony; they were entering the northern continent’s long winter. Many of the upturned faces were flushed with cold and excitement, and everyone was bundled up warmly.
“My people,” Jenna called out, her voice carrying across the crowd. “Thank you for welcoming me as your clan-lady. I will do my best to serve you, as my brother did before me, with integrity and strength.”
Cheering erupted once more, and Jenna waited until it settled down before she continued.
“We are weathering dark times. My brother is dead, Idral is currently under Mir-Ferrin rule, and our relations with that clan have gone back to the days of old. We are enemies once again.”
Curses rang out, the mood of the crowd shifting in an instant. The Mir-Ferrins were hated here.
“We can’t abandon the people of Idral … both our colonists and those who welcomed the Mir-Brennans among them,” Jenna continued, her voice cutting through the rumbling. “And we won’t.” She inhaled sharply then. “But we must look ahead. I’m currently seeking to rebuild trust with the Mir-Leliths.” She didn’t mention that their relationship with that clan had been poisoned by Mir-Ferrin lies. She didn’t want a riot.
More cheering and applause erupted, and Jenna waited once again. She’d prepared this speech carefully. Her words walked a fine line between diplomacy and warmongering. Her people were understandably hungry for vengeance, as was she, but she didn’t want to stir them up.
She wanted them to see beyond revenge; she wanted to work toward stability.
“We are currently rebuilding our space fleet … so we can regain what has been lost.” She paused a moment and then raised her right hand, palm outward, as she’d seen both her father and brother do countless times when addressing the masses. “The Mir-Brennans will rise again. Glory is the reward of valor!”
“Glory is the reward of valor!”
The chanting began then, and Jenna squeezed Malik’s hand once more.
She wondered what he thought of all of this; he was a Mir-Draven, after all. However, when she glanced his way, Malik’s gaze gleamed and his jaw tightened. Catching her eye, he squeezed her hand in return.
“Your cause is my cause, Jen,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “I, too, want to return to Idral one day.” He paused then, smiling. “Good speech, by the way.”
Her mouth curved. He knew that she’d been nervous about today, about how the masses would respond to her—to them.
But she needn’t have worried.
The past weeks had shown her that many of the things she feared weren’t worth her worry.
Loving Malik hadn’t weakened her. Instead, she’d never felt stronger.
Her people weren’t sitting in judgment of her. Instead, they looked to her for leadership.
Malik was right—she’d taken to this role naturally. Marrying Tian had eroded her self-confidence, had embittered her, yet he hadn’t been her destiny—this was, and she’d embrace it.
Moving closer to Malik, she let him place his arm around her shoulders in a protective gesture that would be seen by all.
The chanting dissolved into cheering. Moments later, the clear call of trumpets rang out, and streamers erupted from cannons lining the square, spirals of color decorating the pale, wintry sky.
Laughter and gasps of awe joined the roar of the crowd.
Looking on, Jenna leaned in further to Malik. “This feels right,” she murmured to him, her arm winding around his waist.
Malik’s arm tightened around her shoulders, and she felt him plant a kiss upon the crown of her head. “That’s because it is,” he murmured.
