Weddings are inherently complicated, the bigger the more complicated, but Nyssa had to admit Triana had a gift. The Crown Hall, her dais and throne room, was waiting for her and she felt very at peace to be home.

Triana had gone to great lengths to decorate the Crown Hall with spring flowers and many natural elements she thought would give honour to the Bough traditions. Garlands and trellises full of flowers in bloom and boughs of magnolia and fruit trees decorated the walls, doorways, arches. The smell was sweet and light, and the sun was low enough the stained-glass windows were contributing their own rainbow of colours on the walls and floor.

As was tradition, Nyssa was presented as the sovereign ‘returned.’ She was announced at the grand entrance and walked elegantly from the back to the front, escorted by her brother. She wore her heavy state crown, made especially for state and formal occasions held only at home, and was robed in burgundy velvet and white glistening fur for the time being. Her long sword hung at her side, her new bracers glinting through the slits in her robed sleeves. Nyssa concentrated on balancing the heavy crown without showing it.

Patrick walked her at a calm and stately pace, Jara fully dressed in steel and burgundy cloak and carrying her pennant behind her. Courtiers bowed low as she passed them. When they made it to the dais, Patrick helped her up the step, but didn’t ascend with her. He turned and waited for her to address the room from his one step below.

Nyssa remembered feeling awkward the first few times she’d done this ceremony without her father. The funeral really wasn’t that long ago, but something had changed. She felt it. The room had turned to look at her then, and the silence had made her pulse quicken.

But this time, taking a deep breath, she felt she was herself returned. This time she was a different woman. Previously, she had stood there a newly orphaned girl, young, inexperienced, being handed a ridiculously heavy crown. Back then, fulfilling her father’s wish had emboldened her; she would succeed even it killed her. This time, however, she felt the weight in a different light. She was the sovereign now and she was a wife. She was a leader but she was also one of them, and she felt the support having grown around her. She belonged there.

“People of Orak’Thune, give praise for the return of our queen and overlord!” said Patrick loudly from the dais and his voice boomed in the hall, shattering the silence.

“All Hail, Her Majesty, Queen Nyssa! All Hail, Orak’Thune!” said the crowd thunderously in immediate, reverent reply.

“Queen Nyssa bids welcome to our brethren from the west, the Great Wood. She bids welcome His Grace, Hedir, Duke of Bough,” Patrick said then, and the crowd began to buzz.

Hedir, dressed finely in varying layers of green with gold embroidery on his sleeves and along his short cloak hem, walked lightly up the middle of the hall, the court bowing as he passed them, though not as low as they had for Nyssa, which was custom. When he arrived to stand before Patrick, he stopped lightly and waited. Patrick stepped aside and indicated Hedir should rise to the first step and stand beside him. He took his place, bowed in turn to Patrick and faced the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Orak’Thune, I am honoured by your welcome, and bid you kind greetings from my King Baro and Queen Keerie, who send you blessings for your continued prosperity and long life,” he began.

The court were all watching him with interest now and bowed their heads in acknowledgement of his forwarded greetings. Likely, Nyssa thought, he would be the first Bough some of these Orak would have ever seen.

“I wish to convey to you my humble thanks for your warm welcome of myself and my ambassador. We are awed by your great city and inspired by its warm people and hospitality,” he said and covered his heart with his left hand. He bowed slightly and the crowd murmured with appreciation again. Caston smiled broadly and acknowledged the people who stood around him in the front row. Hedir straightened and continued.

“On this day, I wish also to declare my intention, that I, Hedir, Duke of Bough, request the honour of your queen’s hand in marriage; that I will live by her side as her companion and protector until my last breath.”

While he was saying this, Hedir had turned to face Patrick directly, and half-bowed, awaiting the reply.

The courtiers began to buzz with excitement. Nyssa watched them closely and silently. Her court was made up of the usual wealthier representatives of regions in her country, the only remnant of a true traditional kingdom where courtiers were there by privilege and birthright and though these were meant to represent honourably their regions, Nyssa knew they often only ever served to entertain themselves and sometimes that meant behaving badly at visiting dignitaries expense. It was rare but it happened.

She would not tolerate this today, and most certainly not if it was aimed at Hedir, who with his white-blonde hair, fine features, tall lean stature and soft voice, stood out from every Orak in the room like a dove in a crowd of ravens. She eyed them all carefully, but so far, the crowd only seemed pleased.

Patrick looked at him and smiled in encouragement.

“What say ye, my Queen? Have you your answer?” Patrick asked formally and she caught his smirk.

“I do,” she said loudly and the room ceased all noise. “I accept Duke Hedir as my husband, and I offer him my companionship until my last breath,” she said clearly.

Patrick turned back to face the room smartly, almost ignoring Hedir, who still stood half-bowed.

“Her Majesty, Queen Nyssa, Overload of Orak’Thune, accepts the offer of marriage,” he said very loudly.

The ceremonial guards standing to the side of the room and at attention behind her throne now banged their chest plates in salute. The resounding crash resulted in an emphasis in the announcement that silenced the chattering courtiers and officers.

Two of these guards, dressed in white doublets and long bright red helmet plumage that fell long past their shoulders came forth and she smiled it was Chen and Dorn. They moved behind her and Jara stepped back to allow them to lift her robes from her shoulders. The court began to buzz again, this time with undeniable excitement.

She was incredibly beautiful in a very form-fitting floor-length white silk and velvet gown that exhibited burgundy and gold accents interlaced along the skirt and long sleeves in a familiar vine pattern. Her bracers were ever present, though now newly polished, as was the night sapphire given to her by Keerie, brilliant and deep against her white gown. Hedir held Summer East for the moment. Around her neck, she wore her mother’s leaf ruby, a wedding present from her father on their own wedding day.

Nyssa held out her hand to Hedir, who took it and moved up to stand on the dais beside her. They faced each other, hand in hand. Still standing on the lower level, he accepted a book handed to him, which was marked to the page he required:

“People of Orak’Thune, heed the words of the Code of the Law:” he began loudly and in a tone that meant they should be silent. “By order of the Law, the queen has been proposed and announces her acceptance to that proposal within thirty days. Before all witnesses on this day, the proposal is now declared legal and binding. The result of the acceptance is therefore marriage; the queen accepts this man to be her husband, and he accepts the queen to be his wife, agreeing to protect her, and honour her. I, Royal High Regent of Orak’Thune, and magistrate of these proceedings do recognize the declaration as binding and lawful from this day forth!”

The room was silent for one split second, and then exploded in resounding applause and cheers of congratulations. Nyssa leaned over and kissed Hedir lightly but slowly, and he gently pushed Summer East back on her finger. She turned to face her subjects, noticed Hedir swallow with trepidation, but Patrick turned back to them, clapping and winked.

“Well done,” she thought she heard him say. And well done indeed.

---

Three days later, Nyssa stood at the conclusion of Hedir’s coronation. He turned to extend his hand to guide her down and she felt Jara’s presence at her shoulder while they left the Crown Hall. She felt reassuringly whole and prepared for maybe the first time since leaving the academy. When the doors closed in the green room, the private antechamber she used to prepare, she let out a huge breath of air, breaking the silence. Hedir turned to her in surprise.

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“Please help me with this,” she begged quietly. Sass, her maid, who had been awaiting her return, came quickly over. She had a large box in her hands and stood to the side so Patrick could stand in front of her.

He lifted the crown from her head and put it in the glass-topped box. Then he closed it and Nyssa locked it with a key from around her waist. Sass returned the whole thing to a large vestibule and placed the box inside. Again, Nyssa went over and locked the vestibule. She sat down heavily in a large and plush chair beside it.

Hedir stood still in the middle of the room. She thought he seemed lost. Nyssa held her hands to him, which he came over and took. Looking him in the eyes, she did see it. A bit confused, a bit overwhelmed, maybe.

“You did well,” she said to him quietly.

He smiled lightly but bent to kneel beside her chair. Nyssa lifted a hand to move a strand of his hair back.

“Tomorrow, at council you can introduce Caston officially,” Patrick interrupted. He was across the room in front of another vestibule, removing his heavier outer robes. “He will be able to sit for you on many of the council meetings, which will free up some of your time again,” he offered with a light smile. Hedir, who had turned to look at him as he spoke, nodded, lightly.

“I think he’ll like that,” Nyssa said, remembering Caston’s enthusiasm on the road.

“He’ll need to be coached to refrain from sharing his opinions,” replied Hedir, though it sounded stern, and Nyssa looked back at him in surprise.

“He’ll be fine. You’ll see,” she tried to say encouragingly and rubbed her fingers over the backs of his hands. Hedir’s expression turned pained. She held her tongue. He was clearly unhappy about something.

“Yes, he will,” he said, but it was abrupt. Nyssa’s eyes flicked to Patrick, who was still watching while he undressed. They met and exchanged a concerned expression. Patrick motioned to Sass to leave, and followed her seconds later, gently closing the door with a barely audible ‘click.’

Nyssa noticed Hedir didn’t move when it was clear they were alone. She let go of his hands and moved to face him more directly but spread out her skirts and refolded her hands in her lap, preparing to wait.

“My love, I am sure you are overwhelmed with everything that has been presented to you this past week,” she began gently and tried to sound encouraging. Hedir breathed and his shoulders gave a slight shudder. He was staring straight ahead. “I just want you to know, neither I nor Patrick expect anything of you, until you feel ready.”

She tried to put her love for him at this moment in her words. She wanted him to know she was aware of the weight of all the commitments he undertook. In truth, she was terrified he was regretting it.

“I am not regretting anything,” he began. Nyssa’s mouth twitched at the corner as the same thought hadn’t yet left her own mind. “I am…,” and he stalled. He took another deep breath and looked at his hands. “Overwhelmed,” he said quietly. He rose and went to the enormous stained-glass window.

Nyssa frowned, watched him a moment, but rose and went to take his shoulders and rub them, squeezing his upper arms a bit. She leaned into him, moving to place her face lightly against the back.

“Lean on me, Hedir,” she whispered to him, “always when you feel this way. Know that I understand, and that I am here for you. All my power, all my soul, I will always be here for you.”

She felt him move to turn around and she looked up at him, her concern impossible to hide. He was looking at her, but the doubt was heartbreakingly close.

“What if I fail you?” he said. She sighed.

“It is not important 'if,’” she said to him. “All that matters is that we try. Together, we will never be disappointed in each other,” she said.

She hoped he understood what she meant. She never wanted him to feel beneath her. She wanted him as a partner.

“Your titles and roles, Hedir, are so other people understand where you fit on a line,” she said candidly, lightly touching his cheek. “But what matters, the only thing, is that you and I are bound. Bound by that one thing, that one question that we both answered at the pond; “I love you,” she said softly and put her head on his shoulder again. She closed her eyes and listened to the moment, empty except for just themselves.

She felt him inhale deeply and his arms wrap around her to pull her close. He kissed her forehead. “It is more than I ever expected for myself, it’s true. But to love you, Nyssa, I have no regrets.”

---

It seemed like a lifetime ago that Nyssa had first married Hedir in his wood. She marvelled at the ease with which her husband adjusted to his new life, but missed him because the life of a queen was never quiet and her court kept finding new and interesting things for a consort to do. She missed their conversations in front of the fire or walking slow in the deep Wood, low and quiet and between only them. It was a rare occasion now and three months since their quiet nuptials seemed like an eternity.

Now, if Nyssa found herself alone, she sought company with her sister-in-law, especially since her baby niece, Glenna, had arrived into the world. It was a busy apartment with two children now and Nyssa understood none of the chaos that had descended, but Triana welcomed her and put her to work. Hayden was her new best friend and she’d missed her sister while she had been away.

“Are you well, Nyssa?” Triana asked. Her sister-in-law rocked gently in the wide rocking chair with her infant daughter feeding at her breast.

Nyssa lay half on her hip, one arm straight to hold her upper half so she could move the wooden horses she and Hayden were playing with. The nursery was cozy warm, deeply carpeted with a small hearth that emitted the perfect amount of heat onto the floor.

“I am. Why do you ask?” she replied calmly and bounced a horse toward her nephew, who mimicked her move, making her smile.

“Hedir seems happy,” Triana went on. Nyssa nodded to agree.

Hayden gave up on the game. He gathered the five carved horses into his arms and inched his way into her lap, forcing Nyssa to sit upright and take him more comfortably.

“He’s tired,” Triana noted. Nyssa pulled her nephew close and rocked him a little. She noticed he clutched his little herd of beasts and calmed, his head resting heavily against her chest. “He is smitten with you,” her sister-in-law added.

“I am smitten with him,” Nyssa replied warmly, stroking the baby’s brow and watching his eyes close as he drifted.

“Will you take the time, my queen?” Triana asked very quietly. Nyssa looked up at her. Her sister was ever the petite, fine-featured beauty she remembered marrying her brother two years earlier. She had chestnut hair she wore up off her neck in ringlets and pretty brown eyes that shone with her gentleness. She knew she loved her brother to distraction and he her. Their little family, growing all around them, completed them and gave her brother a pride and glow she never could have imagined for him. He was an amazing father; he showered his wife and children with unabashed love, something their own father had vehemently closed off from them. She was proud of him.

“I don’t think so, Triana,” Nyssa replied, a small shake to her head. She kept her eyes on the now sleeping baby in her arms.

“Oh, Nyssa,” Triana chided her gently. “You can if you want to. You’re not a woman I know to refuse what she feels is right.”

“Hmmm,” Nyssa murmured because words weren’t forming. A long silence stretched. Triana’s rocking chair made a light tick with every track back and forth.

“Hedir explained it is rare for his kind,” Nyssa replied finally. “Which is appropriate, as I am no maternal figure.”

“Posh, Nyssa,” Triana retorted though she kept her voice low not to disturb her sleeping children.

Her daughter had finished her meal and Triana rocked her close and warmly now as she napped. Nyssa could only smile. She hoped it would hide her regret and trepidation of the subject matter.

Of course, she’d thought of it. Holding Hayden close as she was at this moment, the smell of him, his warmth and the utter trust he had in her to care for him, to keep him safe, was a pull she hadn’t been prepared for. But reality was a cruel master. On the surface, Nyssa was a woman of responsibility, of duty and her role. On the inside, Nyssa feared the role of motherhood more than any other.

“Your mother would have cared for you and your brother, well beyond today,” Triana said to her, guessing her reason for the pause. “Patrick told me of her and I remember her a little bit from when I was a girl. She was so beautiful, Nyssa, and she loved you both. Anyone could see.”

Nyssa nodded to agree.

It wasn’t her own mother that caused her concern, but maybe lack of. The risk to motherhood certainly made Nyssa tremble once to remember. Kara, Royal Mother to Nyssa and Patrick, had died in childbirth when Nyssa was only six. Nyssa had seen the graphic scene of her deathbed. It wasn’t very long afterward that her father had commanded her to begin training with a secluded war master at the age of eight, and that, it seemed, had sealed any and all ideas Nyssa ever had of what a woman’s body was capable. She’d had no close female friends in all her life, until Triana even. She knew nothing of the process, except the technical. It worked, it happened, it seemed frightening and dangerous. She was in awe of Triana and any mother for their courage now, but it was from that time onward, she’d grown up with one focus; to be the warrior her father envisioned and the queen the country one day expected. She had courage but of a whole different nature.

Even love had mocked her once, until Hedir. It was perhaps a blessing now that Bough were less fertile. She could love and it wouldn’t cost them everything.

“It’s fine, Triana,” Nyssa replied finally, moving to sit back against the toy chest to be more comfortable. Hayden neither woke nor stirred in her shuffling of him. “There are some pretty specific conditions a Bough and his mate adhere to if a child is expected. I cannot commit to those terms at this time, not to mention quite a few people here would expect me to stand down from the field if my condition were to change. I am not ready to. I just got back and I have much to do,” she added amenably, purposefully omitting anything to do with her flat-out fear of ever finding herself in that predicament.

She looked back and smiled at the scene of her mothering sister-in-law, her baby in her arms. It was a soft sight, a warm and loving moment. It was nice, she admitted, and then imagined if Triana wore plate armour and swords clasped with heavy leather straps, while metal plated gauntlets tapped the infant’s bum instead. As she suspected, the image was not so welcoming.

“I am a queen and a knight, Sister,” she reminded her then, “and it’s what you need me to be.”

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