Liselle sat across from her cousin in the summer garden of the Blue Palace, nibbling at little sandwiches and drinking mint tea. "You're looking especially lovely today, Sabina. Betrothal suits you."

The Crown Princess flicked her eyes up at the tension in her tone, but smiled. "It does, doesn't it? I never would have guessed that our dear James would ask for my hand given your... closeness." She took a delicate sip of her tea and arched an eyebrow with a smile. "Though I am ever so glad he did. A marriage to him will secure my crown in ways that my dear brother can never hope to match. In marrying James, I become Queen."

"Oh? I rather thought Viktor would be the one named heir, as he has the support of the military while you do not." She took a bite of a sandwich with braised duck and warm, sharp cheese. "This is delightful, dear Cousin, you should try some."

Sabina's peridot eyes narrowed. "Dairy products do not agree with me, as you know."

Lise shook her head with a sweetly apologetic expression. "Pardon me. I must have forgotten. Such a shame it is, too."

She ignored the insincere apology and leaned forward to prop her elbows on the table, lacing her fingers together to rest her chin on with a saccharine smile. "And my darling Liselle, that's the idea. Your beloved brother is popular among the people even here in the capital. Viktor has the weight of the officers and nobles behind him, Jamie has the people. Jamie has the numbers. When we wed, those numbers shall be as my own."

The Moray girl raised her cup to her lips to keep herself from snapping something impolitic, mentally cursing the lax upbringing that allowed her to voice her frustrations in the sparring ring instead of the parlor. "Ah. I had no idea that my second-favorite cousin would give herself to a man for something so small as numbers. Does he know that you have so little affection for him?"

"Second-favorite?"

"Yvaine."

"Touché." She took a cucumber pesto sandwich from the tray and tilted her head curiously. "My affection for him is immaterial to my goals, however, to say I have little of it would be inaccurate. He is kind and funny with a fantastic ability to relate to people... and his looks certainly don't hurt." Her eyes sparkled wickedly as she continued, "Surely even as his sister you've noticed how very attractive he is. I've always heard that his birth parents had terribly striking features and that he inherited the best of both. It must be quite the struggle for you."

Lise made a show of adjusting the diaphanous lace of her sleeve while she counted her breaths. "I was never able to meet the late Miriam, but I have heard that she was a beauty nearly beyond compare. Jim, at least by the time I knew him, had the look of a man formerly handsome. With 'formerly' being key."

She smirked into her tea and swirled it around in its pretty little cup. "That didn't quite answer my question."

The other girl felt a little muscle in her jaw give a slight twitch and she rubbed at it carefully before speaking. "You never quite asked a question, I'm afraid. If there's anything you wish to know, I would suggest you gather your nerve and ask it directly."

Her eyes narrowed, their sparkling peridot trying to capture the malachite and gold across the table. When they finally did, she made sure to speak with a pointed precision. "Are you in love with James?"

"That's quite a leap from implying that I find him attractive, don't you think?" She flashed a lopsided grin that didn't touch her eyes.

"Do you deny it?"

Liselle sighed and took another sandwich, one with what appeared to be a currant spread. "My feelings for him are immaterial, Your Highness. We both have our duties to your crown to perform."

The princess set her tea down and drew her brows together. "Selly... We used to be such friends. Talk to me. Please. This isn't like you."

Her expression was pained, though whether it was from the plea or what answering it would entail was unclear. Before she had a chance to find out, one of the palace servants approached and bowed deeply.

"My ladies, would either of you care for dessert of some kind? It is such a lovely day and it would be a shame to abandon the gardens so soon." He grinned at them with the kind of brightness that belonged in the wonderful pallette of the garden in bloom.

Sabina sighed, knowing that she would get no more from her cousin. "Is there any of the strawberry cake left from yesterday?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Some was set aside especially for you since you seemed to favor it so. Lady Moray?"

She ran her fingertips around the lip of her cup. "Syllabub? If it's not too much trouble."

He bowed again. "No trouble at all, my Lady."

After he'd gone, she glanced at the woman across from her and tried on a small smile, hoping it fit. "Please, Bina. Just let me try to be angry with you. It's a much easier emotion to manage."

Her expression moved from shock to sympathy in record time and she nodded. "As you wish, churlish slattern."

"Much appreciated, egregious slag." She looked up at her with a wry smile and both fell into riotous laughter, only sobering when the servant returned with a plate of strawberry cake in one hand and a flute of the orange- and mead-infused whipped cream in the other.

He beamed at their mirth and set their respective desserts before them. "I do hope you enjoy, miladies."

The cake was garnished with spiraled strawberries and saturated with rosé while the syllabub was topped by orange and lemon zest with a sprig of mint. Both women glowed at the beauty of their choices before smiling affectionately at each other and digging in.

Rings

Rings

Rings around the city

Rings of gold

Rings of light

Rings so pretty

Rings

Rings

Rings around the city

Rings of cold

Rings of death

Rings of pity

’Round

’Round

’Round and ’round the city

(Not even almost Christmas-y. But if your prompt is going to give me creepy nursery rhymes, you have to know about them too)

Maria waited anxiously for the Captain of the ship *Veritas* to come to Thurin’s Thoth. The man was possessed of a love of reading that rivaled even her father’s and his ship had been unloading since dawn. She worked through one of the recent crates of books that had been delivered to Thurin’s Thoth, shelving one and rechecking the time before getting another. *Today,* she thought to herself, *today I’ll ask him.*

Magnus gave a faint smile as he watched his daughter. “You looking at the clock won’t make them finish any faster.”

Setting aside a book that she thought might interest Captain Holy, she asked, “Do you think he already has plans for tomorrow night?”

He sighed uncomfortably at the question, knowing how likely it was that the boy had already been invited elsewhere, but was saved from answering by his wife breezing into the room.

“He’s very popular, darling, but he *has* only been back since last night. So I believe your chances to be fairly decent.” Shishelly perched on her husband’s desk, completely dishelveling his papers. “You’ll never know until you ask.”

“She shouldn’t be asking him to begin with,” Magnus grumbled.

She lightly swatted his shoulder. “Maggie! You grumpy old bear, she is twenty years old and perfectly able to choose with whom she would like to spend the holiday. If she wants to pass time with a merchant Captain-.”

″*Pirate* Captain.”

“Not that it stops you from taking his gold or his goods,” Maria sassed.

″- that’s *her* business.” She sniffed derisively and looked down at him. “And the young man has been quite good for *your* business, has he not?”

“Have I come at a bad time?” A new voice sounded from the entrance, soft and rich with a slight seaworn huskiness, and the very subject of their conversation stood framed in the doorway.

“Captain Holy!” Laughing, the woman hopped down from the desk. “We were just talking about you!”

“Mother!” Maria blushed again and busied herself with sorting a box of maps. “Good afternoon, Captain.”

The corner of his mouth crooked up into a smile. “Good afternoon, Miss Thurin.” He turned his attention to the couple and openly grinned. “Shishelly, Magnus. How are my favorite shop owners? Wealthy beyond reason and celebrating with a morning spat?”

The woman embraced him affectionately and the man clapped his arm in a vigorous handshake. “We’re well, dear. Did you bring anything to sell? Or just visiting?” She ran her fingers through his ponytail and worked out a small knot.

“How was your trip, Jimbo?” Magnus pulled his wife away before she could begin mothering the boy in earnest.

He gave a breathy chuckle and rubbed his neck, something that Maria suspected was a nervous tic. “Not the kind of success I’d hoped for, but better and worse in its own way. We gained nothing that would interest your shop. However! In case I don’t get to see you tomorrow...” He rummaged through his bag and pulled out two boxes, squinting at them to make sure they went to the proper recipients. “Solsallan presents.”

Magnus grinned as he opened the box and saw a bottle nestled on a bed of moss.

“Spiced ale made by the owner of The Creaking Jaw in Scyllan Bay. It’s perfect for this cold weather.”

Shishelly’s parcel contained a puzzle box with an assortment of coins. “Oh, Jimmydear! This is lovely!”

He blushed when she hugged him and cleared his throat. “You mentioned once that you wanted to start a coin collection. I tried to find a few different ones, but we only spent time in Decatur...”

“It’s perfect just the way it is.” She glanced to where Maria was shyly shelving books. “Come, Magnus. I need you to help me find the perfect place for it!”

His face twisted in confusion. “Why do you need-?”

“I just *do!*” she groaned, tugging on his hand.

Jimmy watched them go and shook his head at her vast lack of subtlety. Once they were gone, his eyes went to where Maria stood on her toes, haloed in sunlight. He wandered among the books, drifting aimlessly toward her until he stopped at her side and looked intently over the shelf in front of him. “You’ve been quiet today.”

“Have I?” Bright pink crept across her cheeks. “I must have just been distracted. We still have so many new things to register and put away.”

“Ah.” He sounded disappointed. “Well I should be going. We still have a few things to get done before tomorrow.” He began to reach into the inner pocket of his jacket.

*Tomorrow!* “Wait!” She grabbed his sleeve. “About tomorrow.” *Come on, Maria! He’s right here. Just say it!* “After the sun goes down, there are going to be fireworks to celebrate Solsallan. I was wondering if you would like to watch them? Together. With me. It’s the longest night of the year, you know, the Winter Solstice. So the fireworks are supposed to bring light into the long, dark night. I know it sounds silly, but it should be fun. If you like fireworks.” *Great. Now you’re babbling.*

He shifted awkwardly. “I’m sorry. But I can’t.”

She pasted a brittle smile on her face like a mask. “I understand. If you’re too busy or there’s someone else or you just don’t want-.”

“No! It’s not that.” He held up his hands to stop her from going on another ramble. “Rebecca and Tsuria have already invited me to dinner at the palace tomorrow night. One doesn’t turn down a personal invitation by the queens.” Her crestfallen look ate through him and he continued. “They did say that I am welcome to bring a guest. If you would maybe like to join me?”

She gasped. “At the palace? I’ve never even met them before! What do I wear?”

He laughed, finally taking his empty hand out of the pocket. “Anything you’d like. Ancestors know they will be.” The clock in the tower tolled the hour and he frowned. “I really *must* go though. We do still have some unloading to finish before nightfall. Which... It gets dark around, what, seventeen-hundred? So I can be here at about fifteen-hundred to escort you, if you wish. That will give us two hours to mingle, sample the hors d’ourves, and get a feel for the atmosphere before the fireworks and feast.” His eyes clouded with visions of the life he’d left behind. “I hope there’s dancing...” He returned his attention to her. “Do you know how to dance?”

Internally, she loosed a girlish squeak of excitement, but outwardly remained calm. “A little. Mother taught me, but I’ve never been to any proper dance.”

He looked at her kindly and gently stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “As long as you know the basics, you’ll be fine.” With a soft smile, he brought her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “Until tomorrow then.”

He was gone and down the street by the time she could breathe again and she cradled her hand to her chest with a giddy squeal. *He kissed me!*

~~~~

Jimmy approached Thurin’s Thoth wearing a black linen tunic with poet sleeves and silver toggles, a sage and silver samite jerkin, soft and supple tan leather breeches, black leather boots, and a fur-lined tan gabardine coat that matched the breeches. His hair was pulled into a neat queue and tied by a sage ribbon criss-crossed with a leather cord. With a smile, he sniffed at the agalloch oud oil that he’d dabbed onto the collar of his shirt. On his way, he’d slipped a silver to a lady selling flowers for a small bouquet of pink stargazer lilies, lilies of the valley, snowdrops, and forget-me-nots. The woman had given him an extra snowdrop for his breast pocket with a wink.

He nearly dropped the bouquet when Maria descended the stairs.

She wore black, beaded slippers that sparkled enticingly in the light as they peeked out from under her dress. The gown itself was an understated work of art. Silver-shot lilac tilsent flowed in smooth, clean lines until she took a step, then the skirt of the gown divided into so many long, flowing strips and showed the ruched black linen shift beneath. He noticed the distinct pattern of corset boning beneath the bodice of the dress, just enough to enhance her figure and give her some support for the long night ahead. It had bishop sleeves that left her shoulders bare, belled along her arm, and came to cuffs at her wrists. Her neck was adorned only by a ribbon that matched the gown and her doll-like golden ringlets were braided into a knotwork bun at the crown of her head, pinned with tiny crystals.

But it was her eyes that captivated him the most. Like staring into the indigo abyss of the night sky.

*She really is a woman then. Not just the girl I met so many years ago. How did I not notice before now? Or is it that I didn’t want to?* He swallowed hard and stepped forward to give her the flowers.

Holding them close, she breathed in their fragrance with a happy sigh. “Thank you so much, Captain. They’re lovely.”

“Not even half so lovely as you.” His voice was gentle as he pulled a snowdrop to match his own from the arrangement and tucked it into her hair, awestruck by the woman who stood in place of the girl he’d expected to see. “Your beauty elevates such paltry trinkets to the stars, but they are still mundane in comparison.”

She hid her blush among the petals and turned to find a vase to put them in, only to be stopped by her parents.

“I’ll take those. They’ll be in your room when you get back.” Shishelly beamed while Magnus teared up. “Have fun, you two.”

He offered his arm to her and she took it with a nervous smile. They strolled in companionable silence, looking around at the other people who bustled to and fro about their lives. Closer to the castle, there was a different kind of urgency to the energy as people set up food and souvenir stands and prepared for the celebration. Occasionally, someone would greet one or the other of them, bowing to or saluting Jimmy and nodding to Maria.

When they reached the palace, marveled up at the elegantly imposing sandstone building. It had great pillars and sweeping arches, shining picture windows, and was accented with intimidating grotesques and gargoyles. The whole thing had an inviting, warm glow in the orange of the setting sun. The doors swung open for them and they entered into a veritable kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, jewel tone gowns swirling to a melodic cacophony of music. At the center was a striking woman with mahogany skin and a clingy gown of golden silk leading her ink-haired wife in a waltz.

“Shall we join them?” He held his hands up in a basic waltz frame and Maria stepped into his arms.

They danced until the sky darkened and the announcement was made for the show to begin. When they stepped out onto the great balcony off of the banquet hall, he pulled her under his coat to share heat as the boats in the cove shot their fireworks into the night sky to push back the darkness, spreading bursts of color across the sky.

“Maria. Reach into that pocket there, would you?” He nodded at where his coat was around her.

She did so and pulled out a small paper-wrapped package. At his nod, she opened it to find a gold chain so thin it was nearly invisible suspending a solitary blue stone nearly the exact color of her eyes.

“Kyanite. I saw it and thought of you.” He kissed her temple and held her tightly against his side as the sky lit like multicolored day. “Happy Solsallan.”

Jimmy looked at her up there on the stage, his Captain, his Queen, and felt his heart swell. They’d had a rough start, but in a very real way she had become his greatest mentor. Though Edward had set him on his path, Vinesse had shaped it. She had carved a bloody canyon through his life and aspirations, but she had walked that trail beside him.

She was exquisite, standing beside her wife and before her people, positively dripping in gold, wrapped in all her strength. Her hair had been combed with gold-flaked oil, twisted into intricate, gleaming coils and the delicate coronet that rested upon them shone with polished gold and sapphires. She had traded her worn leather eyepatch for a new one, dark brown with filigree inlays. Her good eye, fever bright with barely-restrained excitement, burned over the crowd like a flame. Golden and blue paints traced dizzying designs of knotwork and swirls over her chocolate skin anywhere that it could be seen. Her gown was layered golden silk, each slashed to reveal the ones below and flow around her body until finally revealing the single layer of cerulean beneath it all and with open sleeves that draped loosely down before coming to tight cuffs at her wrists. Feet bare but for the thin gold chains that decorated them, she stood as tall and regal as any born Queen. Everything in her carriage declared her royalty.

When her eye met his, she favored him with a small smile. It was only the barest curve at the corner of her painted mouth, but it was a high honor that warmed his very soul. He pressed his fist to his heart and bowed to her as he would have to Gideon himself.

With her hand down by her side, she quickly crossed and uncrossed her fingers, signaling that she wanted to speak to him after all the pageantry was finished.

He inclined his chin in acknowledgement of their sign and she returned to surveying the crowd at large. His eyes shifted to Tsuria and he saw her smiling.

Tsuria Fer-Geuse, *Queen* Tsuria Fer-Geuse, though she was still adjusting to the title, smiled down on Captain Jimmy Holy. Of all her lovely wife’s wealth, that man was their greatest prize. The trio had walked a long and arduous road, but now they were at the summit.

Rebecca and Holy had stacked the bodies of their enemies into a stairway to reach new heights while Tsuria laid a solid foundation for their efforts to rise from. She knew that she and her wife could never have a natural child, but in him they had found a son and partner.

They knew who he was, who he really was, but the pair had agreed to continue pretending. With his secret exposed, he would have no more reason to stay, and while Bec liked to lie to herself that she only wanted him around for his usefulness and loyalty, Tsuria knew better. They would miss the boy, though he was a mere boy no more.

Bec shifted beside her and she smelled the lilac perfume floating from her skin. She smiled, feeling a blush creep across her cheeks. It had been nearly twenty years and she still couldn’t believe that the other woman hadn’t had a favorite color or scent until she mentioned her love of lilacs. Then the flood began. The Captain’s wardrobe slowly gained lilac items, beginning with scarves and spreading as far as full gowns. Every letter Tsuria received from her beloved was either scented with lilac perfume, accented with floral drawings, or contained pressed flowers. Her love was a soft, sentimental sort once you got under all the blood.

Only she could see the sweat on her Rebecca’s temple. Only she could feel the nervous trembling of her hand. For all her strength, she was nothing more than a woman suddenly granted unaccustomed power and thrust in front of a burgeoning nation of thieves, cutthroats, and, perhaps wort of all, merchants. For all her weakness, she had faced odds and foes that could have crushed even the strongest of men beneath their heels... and survived. Flourished. She and she alone was the architect of her fate.

Giving her hand a quick squeeze, Rebecca stepped forward to address her new people, their new people, and Tsuria was somehow reminded of when they met.

She’d been cowering, naked and chained, in her master’s quarters. The fighting above had grown unbearable with all the screams of the dying and she’d wondered how many of her fellow slaves had been fed to the relentless machine of the pirates. She’d wondered if she would be next. If her master would return. If she would have a new master. If he would be as cruel. If maybe it wouldn’t be better to die...

Then the looting began. The cracks of splintering doors, the cheers of the attackers.

The door to her prison had given way and in its frame stood a man who could have easily broken her master. Fear had flooded her heart as she curled in on herself beneath his gaze. Then he’d looked over his shoulder and called for his captain.

If this was the dog, what kind of creature was monster enough to hold his leash?

She’d let out a thin, reedy wail of terror as the giant stepped back to allow his leader passage... and there she stood. A slip of a girl who couldn’t have been out of her teenage years, with piercing golden eyes and covered head to toe in blood like some savage thing. That hard gaze had softened when it fell on the nude girl in chains.

“Out, Gunnar.” Two words. Two words said so very softly, but with such conviction. Those two words had changed her entire world. The bear of a man had nodded and left, pulling the remnants of the door closed behind him. The girl had approached slowly and knelt before her. “I mean you no harm. Your suffering ends today.”

Hope. Dangerous, glorious, painful hope had burst in her chest like an entire Spring condensed into mere seconds. She had screamed with the euphoria of it all, a raw sound of agony and wonder, and the dark girl had smiled.

“My name is Rebecca Vinesse, Captain of the *Valeria.* Come with me and claim your freedom. You are a slave no more.”

She’d broken the chains with her sword and offered Tsuria her own tattered, bloodstained coat. She’d offered Tsuria the world.

And they’d taken it.

Inch by inch. Day by day. Coin by coin. Body by body. They had cut and climbed their way to the top and now stood on equal ground with the kings and queens who had abandoned them as their lessers.

The crowd roared in thunderous applause and she snapped to the present to see her wife, her love, standing statuesque in the sunlight and shining with the favor of the gods. If every step of her life had been what led Tsuria to this exact moment, it had all been worth it. And when Rebecca turned to her with an outreached hand, she did not hesitate to take it and step into her spotlight. For whatever road this woman walked, she would gladly walk as well.