“The Emerald Palace will host the royal envoy for your ceremony.” The Queen of Sumbria looked down at her nose at Bastian, which was quite the feat, considering he was standing and she was seated on a long chaise made of woven straw fitted with plush purple cushions. “And of course, we’ll be sending a few maids to help the countess in her new home. No one knows a Sumbrian bride like a Sumbrian maid. Priscilla, Lucee and Tinitee here will return with you. Now—”

  “I apologize, Your Majesty,” Bastian bowed to the queen and nodded at the three maids lined up to the left of the queen’s seat, pretending to be sorrier than he was for interrupting the monarch. “But it appears there’s been a misunderstanding.”

  “Oh?” The queen’s voice could cut through ice, and her smile sent shivers down the back of his neck.

  Peregrine, who had otherwise stood stiffly beside him and remained that way after their initial greetings to the queen, broke her perfect posture to stare at him intently.

  “The contract states that half of my staff must be Sumbrian.” Bastian stated. “But I only have one hire, and Peregrine has one maid. Anymore and that would be a breach of contract. Perhaps they could accompany the envoy to the embassy? I’m sure–”

  “No.” Queen Terran Glade tapped one long gold painted nail on her knee, “You will need to hire more staff. A noble of Sumbria cannot live in squalor– not if she is representing Us in another kingdom.”

  She was using the royal Us; King Jarred was nowhere to be found.

  “Country.” Bastian replied habitually, “Or Nation. A ‘kingdom’ implies that we have a king, or queen, and Their Royal Highness is neither. And unfortunately, Your Majesty, I cannot hire more staff at this time. It says in section seven, paragraph thirteen, under the part where she ‘marry a royal branch family member’ that [Countess Peregrine Fern will be afforded all the grace and care of a royal family member, with rights and privileges afforded to any sovereign noble of Peldeep, and receive due treatment to one of her class and station.]”

  “I’ve read the contract.” Queen Terran said between clenched teeth, still holding her knife-thin smile. “Your point?”

  “The royal family of Peldeep reserves the right to private domain, granting each a house kept safe and secure from the public.” Bastian thought this was a good time to bow and show deference to the ruler. Maybe it would lighten the blow. “As Countess Peregrine is my contract wife, she will be protected and held to the same laws. Her family may enter, or anyone she holds in complete trust– but all others will set off the royal mages' enchantments on the property and summon the full royal guard.”

  “Really?” Peregrine asked, one of her delicate pink eyebrows raising ever so slightly.

  “I have experienced it before.” Bastian recalled the time . “The maids could stay at the Sumbrian embassy and help you when you are in public, but they won’t be able to work in the manor– even your Miss Lishinia might not make it through the gate unless you trust her completely, which will cause all manner of international problems and probably result in my having to fire Mr Sakiyama to fulfill the contract of equal employment.”

  “This is unexpected.” The queen’s smile finally broke and deep frown lines appeared on her face, betraying her disgust.

  “And speaking of the contract,” Bastian glanced down at Peregrine, who’d resumed her placidly polite court smile, and back up at the fuming royal. “You’ve seen the addition penned by Crown Prince Deryl?”

  “I have.” Queen Terran started tapping her finger again. Bastian wondered if she was sending a signal to someone through tap code, or just funnelling her irritation into her pointer finger. “Our precious son hasn’t returned home yet, but the Grand Pontiff registered the magical contract with the Continental Council and brought Us a copy.”

  “Wonderful, then this will make things much easier.” Bastian clapped his hands together, “If you could summon the countess, we would be most appreciative.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  The queen stilled, her eyes flitting to an equally frozen Peregrine. “What business do you have with my clothier, Knight Commander?”

  “Peldeep tradition was written into the contract.” Bastian stated. “That means I need to have a meal with Peregrine’s parents, usually dinner but we could do brunch.”

  The queen narrowed her eyes at Bastian as if he were the most annoying creature under the sun and wondered if she could throw him out a window. Or have him thrown out a window; Queen Terran didn’t look like the kind to do her own throwing.

  “Is that what that meant?” The queen asked through gritted teeth.

  “I explained it to Crown Prince Deryl and he wrote in the paragraph himself.” Bastian tilted his head to the side, “If now is a bad time, then we will wait to have dinner tonight–”

  “No,” Queen Terran stood. She was statuesque, for an elf, and came up to his nose. “No, that will not do.”

  With a wave of her hand Pricilla immediately dipped into a short curtsy and left the room, presumably to fetch Bastian’s soon-to-be mother-in-law.

  “My clothier is very busy at this time, but I’m sure we can spare her for an hour.” Queen Terran schooled her features once more and attempted a smile. It was anything but reassuring.

  “Would three still suffice?” Bastian raised an eyebrow, “The Fern’s live close but I fear not that close.”

  “You will meet here, in the royal dining hall.” Queen Terran said, “it would be Our pleasure to host your traditions in Our grove.”

  Bastian lifted a finger, about to point out that he was here specifically for a home visit to meet Peregrine’s family, but Peregrine reached up and caught his finger, drawing it back down. The elf curtsied to her queen and said, “Of course, Your Majesty. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  The queen nodded, “Good, I would hate for there to be any more misunderstandings.”

  The way she said it sounded very threatening, which wasn’t surprising.

  “You may have the hour,” Queen Terran repeated, “And then you may leave. I will expect the first shipment by week’s end. Our chosen ambassador has finished his business in Drendil and will be leaving for Peldeep shortly - do be there to greet him properly.”

  “We will show him every hospitality.” Bastian said, resisting a smile. He couldn’t imagine a Sumbrian noble enjoying much of Peldeep’s free and fanciful hospitality. Or his Baldorin neighbor who lived in the suite across the hall from him in the ambassadorial suites... the dwarf was prone to loud drinking contests and blowing things up.

  “Good day, Knight Commander.” The queen accepted his words at face value, and then swept out of the room, her servants trailing in her wake. Bastian and Peregrine genuflected appropriately, his a short bow to a foreign royal, hers a full floor sweeping curtsy.

  When they were alone, Peregrine squeezed the hand she was still holding. “Thank you.”

  “You're welcome.” Bastian wondered if there was something he was missing, but didn’t think this was the place to bring it up. Instead he asked. “Anything you need before we speak to your parents?”

  Peregrine drew herself up and straightened her shoulders. “Strength?”

  “You have that aplenty.” Bastian pointed out, quietly, since they could both hear the sound of soft footfalls in the hallway. Sure enough, Priscilla had returned.

  The maid led them through a series of canopy bridges through the Maple Grove until they came to an open door leading into a dining area pocket space, higher in the foliage. The bright room had doors on either end and delicately crafted tall peaked windows overlooking a panoramic view of the tops of the trees. From this high up, the drooping clusters of spring maple blossoms were clear under the blue sky.

  The maid closed the door behind us.

  Count Valin was on the other side of the room already - he’d paused in the middle of pacing when they walked in. A spread of nuts and berries, cheese and bread, and a variety of butter, jams and spreads were laid out on a table that stood between Bastian and the count.

  “Peregrine, love,” He asked stiffly, walking forward and placing his hands on the table for support. “Why are we in Her Majesty’s private dining quarters?”

  “That would be my fault,” Bastian started, about to explain the situation when the door at the end of the room opened and Peregrine’s mother entered under escort.

  “You have one hour, Your Excellency,” An older maid told the countess, “And then we need to move to the hunting lodge for the official Golden Goose chasing luncheon.”

  With that, the escort closed the doors, leaving Bastian and the Fern family alone in the hall.