The days since the coronation had passed in a whirlwind. Ophelia had flitted from one thing to the next, trying to ease the tensions inevitable at such a surprising transition. She was the sugar to help the medicine go down, and it was a role that she played well. The exhaustion of the whole affair was getting to her. Her nerves were frayed, and the potions that she often used to calm them seemed to lack their usual luster.

When Cordelia popped her head around the corner, Ophelia was speaking with some of the staff responsible for her childrens’ care. Things would be different now, and Ophelia wanted to make sure that her children’s studies were still attended to and that—Lorelle specifically—would make the transition into he new life without too much upset. They were just concluding their meeting when Cordelia entered. They passed Cordelia on their way out, dipping their heads to her in respect.

Ophelia turned and offered her a warm, though tired, smile. She didn’t know Akagi’s aunt well, but he spoke very highly of her—enough to elevate her to a position of such importance. So, Ophelia decided it was in her best interests to trust her as well. Cordelia’s sparkling eyes and smile were like the sun emerging on a stormy day.

“Change is always difficult for a time,” Ophelia said diplomatically, the slightest bit of tremble in her voice though she hid it well, “But trust and patience is what will help us weather it—or so I keep reminding myself.”

Cordelia’s presence was like a warm fire on a cold autumna day. Ophelia physically drew closer, scooting forward on the chair she’d taken across from Cordelia so that her fears might be thawed by the woman’s glow. She didn’t realize how much she’d needed the reassurance until now. Ophelia would never get it from Cassian, nor would she demand it of Akagi, so to have it from Cordelia meant more than words could express.

“To Arynn Frey, yes.” Ophelia said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her tone, “It’s not my first home, but a home nonetheless. Lorelle is old enough to go spend one season a year in Nevermere to ensure a well-rounded education. But I will be here. And…” Ophelia smiled, “I’m grateful for your support. Truly.” The princess—no, queen—called to a servant to ask for tea. The servant left, obliging willingly.

“So, where does this rank among the tempestuous seasons of change?” Ophelia said, her slight tease concealing the more serious question beneath, “I never thought I’d see an Arynn Frey on the precipice of war.”

Everything about Cordelia put Ophelia at ease. The new queen wondered if it was natural or by design that this was so. After all, her father, Julian, had conditioned every part of her personality to be what it was. So why should others not manufacture themselves for usefulness the same way? But Ophelia decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. To trust her—for who else could she trust?

“Cassian—I mean, his Majesty—is a good man. Wise beyond his years. He’s always been so. As for Lorendale…” Ophelia frowned a little, considering Cordelia, “May I speak candidly, Cordelia?”

Ophelia faltered for a moment. She knew her brother was guarded, even among his closest advisors. Perhaps in the familiar bounds of Nevermere, she’d have been more skeptical of new faces, but here? Ophelia needed people in Arynn Frey whom she could trust. Cordelia was trusted by her husband, whom she trusted more than most anyone in the world. So, she’d offer Cordelia her candor.

“The Eldouir are a monster of Lorendale’s making,” Ophelia said in her typical gentle, matter-of-fact tone, “Lorendale has relied these many years on Nevermere’s support, and now they will be also protected by Arynn Frey who has suffered for their mistakes. And yet...” She furrowed her brow. “I do not see the queen offering to do the same. To take responsibility for their mistakes and move forward. Yes, she was young when she assumed leadership of her kingdom, but now?"

Every word out of Cordelia’s mouth brought Ophelia comfort. Her own mother had never been capable of nurturing the children that nearly broke her. Feeling the warmth of Cordelia’s hands, she imagined this was what others must feel when their mothers held them to protect them from the storms of the world. Even if she were to taste just a fraction of it.

“What proposal is this?” Ophelia asked, trying to contain her surprise that she’d heard nothing of it. Not from Akagi, not from anyone.