Royal Magic by K M Shea

Author:K M Shea [Shea, K M]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-26T16:00:00+00:00

Gwendafyn maneuvered herself so she was at the very back of the sitting room as she waited—with both the Lessa and Calnor Royal Families—to receive Lorius.

“I still don’t understand why we have to do this,” Benjimir grumbled at her side.

“Aunt Lorius is the acting regent for Lessa, now, since I relocated here,” Gwendafyn said carefully.

“So? When you showed up without notice, we didn’t have a grand ceremony for you,” Benjimir scoffed.

“Yes, well…I’m not sure what to say to that,” Gwendafyn said honestly. She glanced from Benjimir to Yvrea, who stood at the very front of the room. “Why are you standing back here?”

“To show solidarity with you?” Benjimir snorted. “You are my wife.”

Gwendafyn tilted her head in surprise at the rarely used title. “Yes…” she said slowly.

“Also, if Father were to try and make me stand in front, I think I’d spit on your aunt,” he said with not an ounce of shame.

Yes, he’s still the shrewd man I married—though in better humor than I ever assumed he could be. “Why would you do that?”

“She kicked up a fuss at our wedding that you were leaving your duties behind, and here she is visiting Haven twice in roughly six months. That is hypocritical to a level I didn’t think elves were capable of,” Benjimir said.

“She’s here to greet Braydynn,” Gwendafyn reminded him.

“Bullocks,” Benjimir pronounced. “She sent word she was coming before he was even born.”

Gwendafyn studied Benjimir’s profile as he haughtily frowned at their families. “Thank you,” she said on an impulse.

“For what?”

“For standing here with me,” she said.

Benjimir shrugged. “I’d rather be standing with you halfway across the palace, but as I’m no longer the Crown Prince, I don’t have as much power to skip social events as I used to.”

Gwendafyn shook her head. “Surely King Petyrr doesn’t care what events you attend and skip?”

“He doesn’t. Mother does,” Benjimir said grimly.

Gwendafyn narrowed her eyes and sought out the Calnor Queen.

She stood at the front of the room—with a bored-looking King Petyrr who was carrying a beagle puppy. (Where did he get the puppy?)

Queen Luciee had arranged her children so they were fanned out behind her, with Vincent and Claire taking up the rear. (She had tried to arrange for Gwendafyn to stand next to her, but Yvrea had innocently taken the spot and had not yet moved.)

That woman. Gwendafyn thought ungraciously. How can she call herself a mother and play favorites with her children based solely on who has more political clout?

“I’m glad we’re allies,” Gwendafyn said abruptly.

Benjimir gave her a look. “I am yours to command, My Lady.”

Gwendafyn rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“But what if I mean it?” Benjimir asked, his expression morphing into the dutiful one he brought out whenever they needed to be particularly convincing in their act.

Sometimes I do wish he weren’t so sneaky. He says hurtful things without meaning to. Gwendafyn held in her grimace of pain and instead made a show of patting his hands and looking around the room. “The show is unnecessary, Benjimir.

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