Page 55 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
Aunt Aylie and Uncle Neel stewed.
Trying to wrap my brain around all I’d learned in the past fifteen minutes, I scratched my dampened head. “I’m sorry. I really don’t see why it’s so damn important that I get pregnant right now.”
“Ladies don’t say damn,” my aunt snapped at me.
I bit back a scream.
Briar exhaled. “There’s tension at court about being ruled by a female—as it hasn’t happened before. We thought we’d alleviate the peoples’ concerns if you were pregnant—or if you had embraced motherhood already.”
I stared at him, still lost.
“Because that would assure them you intend to be a traditional queen.”
“What’s a traditional queen?”
“A traditional queen is her king’s companion and lover.” His voice was smooth, gentle. “She supports him, raises his children, oversees the running of the palace, and acts as a diplomat in many ways at court. She’s a beacon of decorum, charm, and beauty for the people.”
Has anyone here actually met me?I’m a beacon of none of those things.
“But she doesn’t actually rule?” I clarified, getting to the heart of the matter. “That would be the king? That would be you?”
Briar shifted, clearing his throat. “Well, yes, Amy. That’s what that means.”
Super sensitive to even kindly judgment, I withdrew from him. “Do yinz think I’d make a bad ruler or something?”
My aunt and uncle stammered in response.
“Of course not, Amy.” Briar regained my hand. “That’s not what we think. It’s just—well, you said it yourself—you don’t know how to be a queen.”
That was very true.
“We knew the transition would be difficult for you, but your father insisted you inherit the throne. So, we thought my being the sovereign would be a satisfactory solution for all. I’ve been groomed for this, you see. First with my father, who’s the reeve of Lithalaly, the Summer Court, and then with your father, after our betrothal. I’ve no great desire for power, of course, and if you feel prepared to rule—”
Was this all for real? How could I answer that question? I hadn’t even had time to weigh my options.
“You’d be taking on the troubles of an entire world, niece,” Uncle Neel warned me. “And the various courts—they’re more like this realm’s continents, not its countries.”
I gulped at the thought of such oppressive responsibility.
“And I hate to say it, but your burden as a sovereign would be much heavier than the one your father carried. Because you’re a female. Just like this world, ours is male dominated. You’d be ridiculed as weak, ineffectual, hysterical, dimwitted—” Uncle Neel trailed off. “Need I go on?”
Aunt Aylie softened toward me, knowing I feared public scorn. “As I’ve always said, Amy—females and politics shouldn’t mix.”
That unsettled me more than anything. Aunt Aylie had to be wrong. Just so I could sleep at night.
Daddy clearly hadn’t agreed with her, otherwise he wouldn’t have handed me his crown. However, to imagine ruling an entire world of people whose interests and issues I had no notion of—I couldn’t even grasp the onus of that.
Plus, there was the whole matter of the life I’d always wanted—to be a career girl at a major publishing house. My education, my friends, and my career—I was pretty sure all that was over with if I took up ruling a fairy realm.
Would I stand a chance of staying my course if Briar took the throne for me? As a secondary figure at the Spring Court, there’d be no good reason I couldn’t remain in the only world I knew to achieve my ultimate dreams. Even if Briar and I did get married—as everyone assumed we would—things could still work in my favor. We’d just see each other on weekends or something, and I could live my normal human life.
Except, you were meant for much greater things than that, Daddy’s voice chimed in my mind.
“Oh, I can’t.” Indecisiveness wasn’t in my nature, but this pickle had thrown me for a loop. My heart didn’t know what it wanted to do. “Yesterday, I was just a college student who needed a summer job. Now—this choice—Ican’t.”
Briar set a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, that’s okay, Amy. It’s settled then.”
“What—but I—you don’t—that’s not—” I couldn’t form the proper words to explain the misunderstanding. I hadn’t abdicated. I just hadn’t made up my mind.
