The coronation of Evandella Wranbanise took place on a fall afternoon three months after the death of King Gisemere. Del spent the entire event tugging at her uncomfortable dress and being prodded about like a choice lamb by high counselor Ambris Tellier. Thankfully, the event was more for show than anything official, so it didn’t last long.

The high council agreed to instate her as queen the very day her predecessor died in an ‘unfortunate jousting accident’. Although they had nearly reconsidered when she told them she intended to fill the vacant council seat with Maugrian Bikan. But in the end, they relented, mostly because they had no other choices left.

She’d made her way through the maze of dignitaries, emissaries, assemblies, and other people she didn’t care to know, and finally escaped to her own room. Rooms was a more appropriate term. Her quarters in Wranbanise Castle were bigger than the last inn she’d stayed in.

“You know, dear,” Shorgus said from a chair in her sitting room, where he lounged with a glass of wine. “If you don’t stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles.”

“I already have wrinkles,” she said.

“You’ll get more wrinkles.”

Sara, her personal maid, giggled from another room. Despite being against the idea of having someone help her dress and draw her bath, Del had come to like the girl. She was surprisingly adept at navigating court intrigue. There was very little Sara didn’t know about the politics of Kingsland, an area where Del herself was terribly lacking.

“I can hear you, Sara,” she said. “You will get wrinkles someday too.”

“He’ll be back soon, Del.”

“Of course,” she said, but continued to watch the door. “Where is Albaran, by the way?”

“Training the guard. Where else? You gave him the job, after all. And now he’s gone all day trying to teach mutts to be mountain lions,” he sighed dramatically. “But he does come home all sweaty and frustrated, so, you know, there are bonuses.” Sara giggled again from the other room.

There was a knock at the door, and a guard in red and white livery showed Ambris in. He bowed deeply to the room and left.

“Aren’t they supposed to ask first if I want you to come in?” Del asked.

“Probably,” the older woman said, shrugging. “But everyone knows you want to see me. I need to speak with you in private.”

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Del grinned. She learned quickly that Ambris wanted everything to be ‘in private’, no matter how unimportant.

“I’m so sorry, lady counselor,” Del said in mock distress. “I am in the middle of a meeting with my magical advisor. If I had known you were coming, I would have been sure to set aside the time.”

Ambris rolled her eyes. “Sara,” she yelled. “I hear you smirking back there. Bring me a tea please, dear.” She turned back to Del. “Your magical advisor needs to get his feet off the furniture.” Shorgus huffed, but sat up.

Despite their almost constant squabbling, Ambris was quickly becoming one of Del’s most trusted advisors. She was smart, honest, and willing to get her hands dirty. And most importantly, she treated Del’s companions with respect. Or as much respect as she gave everyone else, at least.

Sara entered from a side door with a full tea set and placed it on the table before bowing herself to the other side of the room. Ambris watched her go.

“I would like very much to know how you gained the loyalty of my maid so quickly,” she said as she poured herself a cup of tea. “You know she is supposed to be spying on you?”

“Of course,” Del said. “She told me on the second day.”

“Humph.”

Shorgus watched them intently over his wine glass.

“So, I’m assuming you are here for more than tea and advice on how to keep your spies?”

“Certainly,” Ambris said. She sat down her teacup and pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket. “I have some delicate policy issues I want to discuss with you.”

“I just finished my coronation. I’m hot and tired. This can surely wait a day.”

To Del’s surprise, the other woman stood up.

“Oh, I suppose it can. I’ll just take this letter back downstairs,” she waved the paper in her hand. “You wouldn’t want to be bothered with such things while you are hot and tired.”

“What letter?” Del narrowed her eyes.

“Just a missive from Kimes…” she began.

“Ambris!” Del stood up. “Give me that.”

“Discuss my issues and it’s all yours.”

“I could probably have you arrested for intercepting royal letters.”

“Probably,” the woman mused.

“Give it to me and then I’ll discuss your issues.”

The counselor considered the Queen for a long moment and nodded, handing over the letter. Del sat back in the chair and read the letter twice, then passed it to Shorgus. Sara stood behind his chair and read over his shoulder.

“Well,” Ambris said. “Have there been issues?”

“No,” Del smiled. “He says he has done what I asked and is on his way back to the capital with our new horse master apprentice.”

“Thank the Gods,” the counselor said, sitting back. “You are cranky when Maug is out and about.”

“Your majesty?” Sara said, her nose wrinkled in confusion. “Why does it say your new horse master is ‘mad about there being no dragons in Bellon’?”

Del just laughed and turned back to Ambris.

“Alright, counselor. Fair is fair. What is this important business I need to attend to?”

“Well, your majesty,” she said. “It is time to find you a husband.”