Rowen wondered if perhaps they had gone too far.

  Surely not. They could definitely push just a little bit further. “I heard that Lucial wants children.”

  Prince Basil ignored his royal parent and continued to stare at the stars overhead. It was a clear night, and the sky was scattered with clusters of untold celestial lights.

  Their son was moping again. Something must be done. Rowen curled a smile and picked an apple blossom from a nearby tree.

  “If it’s about your responsibilities, Sakura could –”

  “Lucial will return after the Festival.” Basil said, quiet but firm, his eyes still locked on the sky overhead. “He will stay until the Continental Council, and then charter a ship home. It’s better that way.”

  Rowen walked over to their son and tucked the flower in his long black hair. “If that is your wish.”

  “It is.” Basil stated, but there was a hollow resolve beneath his words.

  The two stayed like that for some time, and Rowen wondered how a child of theirs had become so serious.

  Basil was their third son, and had grown up surrounded by playful foxes. He alone seemed to care more than the others. He was attached to things that Rowen would never pretend to understand.

  “You could go with him?”

  Basil stood, dragging the apple blossom down and crushing it in his hand. “You won't get rid of me that easily.”

  He stormed off, Rowen’s eyes following after. Another misunderstanding, but what more could Rowen say that had not already been said between them? Basil would hear what he wanted to hear.

  Rowen sighed, telling his newly arrived visitor. “That boy is going to be the death of me.”

  “As long as he doesn’t use Molten Ash Vane,” A black cat with black bat wings materialized out of the darkness, his green eyes reflecting light. Slake rubbed up against Rowen’s legs.

  “I think he’s more likely to turn the court against me and claim the throne with insurrection.” Rowen commented, seeing it now - Basil leading an exhausted crowd of ministers who’d found some ancient article they could use to dethrone Rowen, all so Basil could take the crown for himself.

  Their son was brilliant like that.

  “An excellent choice,” Slake nodded, approving. He gave a little butt wiggle and then leapt onto Rowen’s lap. “As long as your other children don’t oppose?”

  “Them?” Rowen laughed loudly into the quiet garden. They lifted one hand to scratch behind Slake’s ear. “Eric is gone. Malakai has gone out to find himself. Penelope is happily married to that bear, and Saki is… well, she loves Basil.”

  “Then maybe you should retire?” Slake asked, happily clawing Rowen’s lap in a rhythmic kneed. “I think Her Grace was considering the same, actually.”

  “So she’s said.” Rowen smiled. Grand Duchess Calisto of North Sumbria wasn’t going to be able to retire until one of her children figured things out. Julia was getting married, so mayhaps she’d settle down – but Rowen doubted that. The girl was marrying a necromancer from Nilheim, and still travelling across Valaria tackling quests and dungeons with no signs of slowing down. Julian… Well, Lysander’s boy was still hiding away in the Northern Ice Fields, trying to live up to his father’s legacy. Either way, it was time to turn the conversation to why Slake was back so soon. “What other interesting things have you heard on your travels?”

  Slake’s tail flicked once, “It is as I thought. One of my own took over the Assassin’s Guild in Servalt.”

  “Oh?” Rowen leaned back and listened.

  “She gave me a list of people working with Duke Lector.” Slake named a co-conspirator of Marquess Chadwick from the Spring Ball. “We haven’t caught the elf himself, yet, but my party members tracked down three of his spies and rushed back to give me this.”

  A scroll appeared on the bench beside Rowen, and the fox unrolled a list of fifty-odd names. While they read, they said, “I was hoping Duke Lector would be within my grasp before the Peldeep Continental Council. It saddens me to think he’ll be brought somewhere else for trial.”

  The top name, in bold and black ink, was Madame Potts. Directly underneath was Rowen’s own name, then a collection of people from all over Valaria; Regent Havork, Grand Duchess Calisto, Countess Julia, a good number of Dark Enchanted Forest folk and the delegation from Sumbria heading for Peldeep now.

  “There was an order to perma-kill anyone in black on the list.” Slake told the fox.

  “Who knows?” Rowen asked.

  “I’m traveling with Commander General Rufus of the Dark Lord’s army. He’ll be arriving in Vitol tomorrow.” Slake said. “He knows about Guild Mistress Lina’s involvement with Duke Lector, but I was only going to share the list after I spoke with you.”

  “Do it.” Rowen ordered, and then added a polite, “Please and thank you.”

  They were the ruler of Peldeep, not a fool. A grimalcat deserved all respect, more so with this particular grimalcat. Slake stretched in an arch and yawned, then jumped off Rowen’s lap. “The delegation from Sumbria is also going to be arriving tomorrow. Good luck with that.”

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  Rowen laughed, “I’ll need it. Not every elf is as delightful as Peregrine Fern.”

  Slake flew off, and Rowen waited until they were sure that the grimalcat was gone before heading in as well. Between Basil’s romance, Bastian’s wedding, and the Apple Blossom Festival, they were scheduled for a week of chaos and excitement.

  Just the way they liked it.

  ...

  Peregrine POV:

  Bastian and I were not awake at some ungodsly hour to make it to the palace today. No, we were currently happily sitting in the gathering room and eating scones like reasonable people with a healthy respect for sleep.

  I was done planning, and I’d even posted a few meaningless tasks in the office marked URGENT just to fool whatever fool was on their way to take over.

  Yes, I was brilliant.

  The Merchant Guild had twelve months of shipment orders signed and registered with the guild. The Adventurer’s Guild had twelve months of guard duty quests posted, the money was all deposited with the guild so that no one would need to contact the office in the interim. And it might have taken a very convincing hour-long argument with the palace accountant, but the naga had finally caved and let me file the tax forms early. They locked the trade office funds allocated to the pre-submitted forms, preventing anyone with unsavory intentions from withdrawing the gold for any other use.

  Like I said, brilliant.

  “We caught another assassin last night,” Kiki said, rubbing her neck as she walked into the gathering room in front of Hiro. “This one from the guild.”

  “I can’t wait until we’re married,” Bastian sighed. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me closer, ignoring a cough from Lish.

  My contract with Peldeep would prevent the guild from taking hits against me once I was wed, but in the meantime…

  “That will only stop the guild assassins.” I pointed out, happily leaning into him. “Any word from the illegal assassin at the palace?”

  Since Rowen’s return, there had been multiple attempts on my life, including an assassin carrying Dandyvine of all things! While not as quick as Molten Ash Vane, Dandyvine was just as vile. The vines sprouted and devoured their target, decomposing anything it ate in a matter of seconds.

  An interesting way to die, but not one allowed by the Continental Council.

  “Nothing so far,” Mr Sakiyama answered. The fae was carrying over a fresh pot of tea and more unigoat butter for the scones.

  “Thank you,” I said, smiling up at Mr Sakiyama and accepting the small bowl of butter.

  “The Continental Council is actively working to find the poison supplier.” Bastian stated. “The next meeting is after our wedding, so we’ll have more information—”

  There was a familiar chime in the room, and everyone stilled.

  I know I know, back so soon? This Madame Potts couldn’t help myself; this is a very busy week, and who would this humble Crystal Caster be if she didn’t give warning?

  There is going to be mayhem at the Emerald Palace, but anyone going to Julia’s Grotto this week for the Peldeep Apple Blossom Festival shouldn’t fear the fireworks. The knight commander’s wedding will have some unexpected magical guests who weren’t invited, and Their Royal Highness Rowen of Peldeep is going to get to show off that they still got it.

  Anyone in the Dungeon Valley Crest will notice an increase in tulip belles on the third floor for the next few days. And the monsters on the second floor will have a +10% drop rate for ravenwing grass circlets. Please remember your Sleep and Paralysis antidotes.

  Tinker Tate has made an appearance in the Dark Enchanted Forest and has some of the rarest and most sought-after materials. If you have the chance to see the tinker, be sure to offer up a song. If he likes it, you might get a discount.

  There’s a pink portal user who’s causing everyone grief these days. You know who you are. I’m here to say that you probably shouldn’t be going up against an enchanted forest that can eat you.

  The Summer Solstice Celebration is only a few weeks away. For anyone who doesn’t know, the festival will end with the wedding between Countess Julia von Slyke from North Sumbria and Necromancer Chloe Watercress from the Dark Enchanted Forest.

  This enchanter has it on the best authority that the newest popular trend in North Sumbria is a fine herringbone weave, tassels, and a boot dagger. If you have a favorite dagger, might I suggest not hiding it in your boot, because that is the first place anyone will look?

  This was Madame Potts with the latest news. I hope everyone is enjoying the fine weather! As a note, starting tonight, it’s going to rain for five solid days, so be prepared. I’m not.

  “We could just get married today.” Bastian was the first to speak, his calm voice not-at-all hiding his worry. “It wouldn’t be the first future I’ve changed after listening to Madame Potts Cast.”

  I considered, “She didn’t sound too worried, just letting us know.”

  “Rowen and fireworks are a worry,” Bastian argued, squeezing me a little tighter.

  “The wedding has to wait until the delegation,” Lish pointed out. She was sitting at the knee high chair and eastern size desk by the window, looking over my correspondence. There was a box of up-to a hundred invitations that had been arriving daily since the day I’d arrived, and we’d finally had the time to reply.

  So far, she read them and wrote out a list of people who’d sent letters, then I chose any I should reply to personally and left her to write a cursory reply to the rest.

  I had about fourteen left to attend to after breakfast, while Lish tackled the full box now. She’d already eaten long before I awoke.

  Bastian sighed. “Then if nothing else, we should go by the Market and pick up extra antidotes and potions.”

  “Aren’t those expensive?” I asked, knowing full well how much it cost.

  “Yes, but I care more about your safety than the coin. The supply problem is a bigger problem," Bastian said, smiling slightly. “But what’s the point of being a royal if I can’t use it to get access to the higher grade potions?”

  Mr Sakiyama’s antennae vibrated, and he glanced out the window to the front gate. “We have guests.”

  “Professional guests?” I asked, wondering if the next batch of assassins were here so soon? I was hoping we would be able to find out more about who’d actually sent them - be it Peldeep’s angry nobles to my own royal’s machinations - but no word yet. Another assassin was another chance to get some answers.

  “It doesn’t seem so.” Mr Sakiyama bowed slightly and went out to check.

  I twisted from my floor chair to see out the window to the front courtyard, and wondered if I should stand to receive whoever was knocking at our gate. Before I made up my mind, Mr Sakiyama was walking back to the house, alone.

  We all waited in anticipation while Mr Sakiyama stepped back into the gathering room, holding a calling card. “You have some very rude visitors, Countess. Should I send them away?”

  “No, I’ll handle it.” My heart sank, already guessing all of the different people it could be. I stood up and brushed the scone crumbs off my blue daydress. “Looks like I’ll be visiting the office today after all.”

  Bastian was close behind me, asking Mr Sakiyama, “Who did Sumbria send?”

  The fae handed us the card and said a name I thought I’d never have to hear again.

  “It is the Lord Oakley, Sir.”