She’s nervous, he thinks.
As Oak leads her ashore, toward the onlookers, he hears whispers.
Witch Queen. Hag Queen.
Still, he is their prince. Their whispers fade as the crowd dutifully parts around him. Tiernan and Hyacinthe both follow, one on each side.
When Oak comes to his sister, he bows. Wren, seeming unsure of the etiquette, bobs in a shallow curtsy.
Despite how much magic it must have taken to destroy that monster in the sea, despite how sick she was after, she appears remarkably composed.
“Welcome home, Prince Oak,” Jude says formally, and then her mouth twists into a wry smile. “And congratulations on the completion of your epic quest. Remind me to knight you when I get the chance.”
Oak grins and bites his tongue. He is certain she will have much more to say to him later when they are alone.
“And you, Queen Suren of the former Court of Teeth,” says Cardan in his silky voice. “You’ve changed quite a bit, but then you would have, I suppose. Felicitations on the murder of your mother.”
Wren’s body stiffens with surprise.
Oak desperately wants to stop Cardan from talking, but short of kicking him or throwing something at his head, he has no idea how.
“The Ice Needle Citadel is full of old nightmares,” Wren says after a beat of silence. “I look forward to making new ones.”
Cardan gives her a half smile of appreciation for that line. “We shall dine together at dusk tomorrow to celebrate your arrival. And betrothal, if the frantic messages we received from Grima Mog were accurate.”
Oak’s mind spins, trying to figure out if he should object to any part of this. “We are, indeed, betrothed,” he confirms.
Jude looks over at him, studying his face. Then she turns to Wren. “So you’re to be my new sister.”
Wren flinches, as though her words are the opening move of some kind of cruel game. Oak wants to put his hand out, to touch her arm, to reassure her, except he knows better than to make Wren look as though she needs reassurance.
Besides, he’s not entirely sure what his sister did intend with those words.
A moment later, the black vulture lands on the dirt beside them and transforms into Bogdana, dark feathers becoming her dress and hair.
All around, there is the rattle of swords coming free of sheaths.
“What an appropriate greeting, Your Majesties,” says the storm hag. She does not bow. Nor does she curtsy. She doesn’t even incline her head.
“Bogdana,” Jude says, and there is something that is possibly admiration in her voice. “Your reputation precedes you.”
“How pleasing,” says the storm hag. “Especially since I saved your ship from certain destruction.”
Jude looks toward the Ghost—then checks herself and turns to Randalin instead.
“It is even so, Your Majesty,” the councilor affirms. “The Undersea launched an attack on us.”
A ripple of surprise goes through the crowd.
Cardan raises his brows, looking skeptical. “The Undersea?”
“One of the contenders for Queen Nicasia’s hand,” Randalin clarifies.
The High King turns to Oak with an amused smirk. “Perhaps they were worried you might throw your hat into that ring.”
“They wanted to send a message,” Randalin goes on, as though arguing the case, “that the land ought to keep to itself and let the Undersea work out its ruler business on its own. If we act otherwise, we will have made a powerful new enemy.”
“Their dim view of treaties gives me a dim view of them,” says Cardan. “We will give Nicasia aid, as she once aided us, and as we swore to do.”
It was the Undersea who’d rallied to Jude’s side when Cardan had been enchanted into a serpent, while Madoc and his allies conspired to take crown and throne, and while Wren hid in Oak’s room.
“We are grateful to you for your help,” Jude tells Bogdana.
“I saved the ship, but Wren saved those on board,” the storm hag says, curling her long fingers possessively on the girl’s shoulder.
Wren tenses at the touch or the praise.
“And saved our father as well,” Oak affirms, because he has to make his sister understand that Wren isn’t their enemy. “I couldn’t have gotten to Madoc without her, nor gotten him out—but I’m sure he told you as much.”
“He told me many things,” says Jude.
“I hope we will see him at the wedding,” says Bogdana.
Jude raises her eyebrows and glances in the High King’s direction. It’s obvious they thought Oak being betrothed was a long way from an exchange of vows. “There are several celebrations that ought to precede—”