Large-scale celebration within the palace had, for the most part, never been any of Finneas’s concern. A banquet for Altrusia’s arrival would be prepared by guest attendants and proper party planners. Anything for the family was attended to by their personal servants and professionals. Maron had, despite his status, mostly avoided having massive parties thrown in his honor in the past few years.

The ball was not something Finneas had any of the wherewithal to plan. When faced with questions about which colors the prince preferred, he could manage it, and the guest list was certainly something he could attend to. However, asking him which courses should be served in what amounts had made him feel almost useless. Preparing a list of songs and interviewing the musicians was more than he really had time for in a day.

When Meredith stepped into his office with a large folder, Maron trailing quietly behind, he was grateful for her expertise. While the queen certainly had other duties to attend to, she had taken to event planning during her own wedding and continued to put things together after. The offering of her assistance made it a bit easier for Finneas to breathe.

She sat, placing the folder on the desk and offering a smile. “Alright, my dear. It’s time. I’ve compiled a list of guests that we cannot turn down, as well as a few groups of acceptable musicians. I know you’re concerned about including citizens in the event, so I’ve ensured that catering, music, and flowers are being provided by small businesses from across the kingdom. What I need from you is a few final decisions about decor, setlists, and the number of citizens we want to allow inside the event.” She spoke quickly, and Finneas did his best to keep track of her words. “You’re overwhelmed.”

Finneas nodded. “I’ll confess this is not my strong suit.” He sighed, taking the folder in his hands. “Your Highness, much of this is up to you. It’s your party, after all.”

“If it were up to me, we wouldn’t be hosting one,” he said, shaking his head. “The sooner it’s done, the better. If we can make it through the day without any casualties, I would consider it a success. We need to use it to garner support from the council and the people so that I’ll have them on my side when the time comes for my ascension. I believe that comes down to our behavior at the event more than the type of flowers we decorate with.”

Meredith laughed. “Always so serious.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing small circles over his back. “You remind me of when I was preparing for my wedding day. So worried about what the people thought that I hardly had fun with it.”

“I can’t remember much about it, but the wedding itself was beautiful,” Maron said. He had been young when Meredith married his father, only three.

“Thank you. I thought I was going to die during it.” She smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “I was a commoner, remember. I grew up next to Henderson. I wasn’t supposed to be Queen of Leeden. I was just a caterer.” Her hand left Maron’s shoulder, moving to the folder in front of Finneas. “You’re up against much less pressure than I was. It’s easier to make the public and the council love a perfect heir than it is to make them tolerate a glorified barmaid.” Finneas frowned at that, but she just laughed, shaking her head.

There was a kernel of truth to it, though. As much as Finneas would never deign to refer to her as such, it had been difficult to win the people over, and far harder to deal with the council. To be born in Henderson was already a sin in the eyes of most nobility– even the aristocrats there seemed to renounce it more often than they embraced it. It wasn’t as if being from a poor and rebellious border town was going to be seen as favorable by those in power. The people were easier to sway, but the council had been a nightmare toward Meredith in the first years of her presence.

Even if there were whispers among the people about Maron and even if his choice to keep Finneas close enough to him to remove his cuffs was controversial, his birth had been a blessing, the first heir of the kingdom, a gift after his mother had been unable to conceive for so long and his father’s family had consistently struggled to have children. And after the first Queen’s death while pregnant, it had been a miracle.

Queen Lenore had been so loved, by both the people and His Majesty. It was difficult to picture Maron struggling for support. That he had grown into someone so level headed and calm, similar to his mother, had always been praised.

Maron scanned over the papers before them, standing to move behind the desk, joining Finneas. He left his crutches at the chair, instead leaning on his arms, placing his weight upon the desk. “Either of the setlists are fine with me. For decor, we may as well remain traditional. Green and gold for Leeden, calla lilies, and anything else may be up to the planner’s discretion. I trust you to know this better than we do. As for citizens, let in the first hundred and then go from there depending on the Guard’s opinion.” He sighed. “Am I allowed to leave early?”

“Under no circumstances, my dear.” She folded her hands in her lap. “It’s your celebration. If I was forced to attend my own wedding, you’ll need to survive this.”

Maron hummed. “I suppose I cannot argue with that.” He rested his head in his hand. “Did you manage to have any fun at your wedding?”

“Mm, the little boy who waddled in carrying the rings was very cute. Fell all over, threw the rings across the room, and then spent ten minutes trying to crawl around the room and find them.”

Maron’s face was red. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, looking away.

“It was a relief, honestly. After being that stressed and preparing for every little thing to go wrong, having something we couldn’t predict just shatter the tension was a breath of fresh air.” She smiled. “It was good, though. I complain, but it was a fun night. If anything, though, it does make me hope that if and when you or Nadia marry, it will be because you’re in love.”

It was not exactly a secret that Meredith’s marriage had been partially for optics. In a time when arguments had broken out among the people that the king had little interest in their affairs, he had married a beautiful but titleless commoner. She was from a good enough family– they had owned inns and restaurants for generations and become decently respected members of the community surrounding Henderson– but it wasn’t as though she was nobility or even close to it. Even with his own family’s status now revoked, Finneas managed to hold more status than she had before the wedding.

“I will do my best,” Maron said. His eyes dragged over the papers before them and then trailed toward Finneas.

Finneas wasn’t sure why the weight of that gaze hit him so hard in the moment. It had always been said that Maron’s quick glances and long stares were intense, that they were intimidating. Perhaps it was because they had become so close so young, but he had never found much truth in that. Now, though, there was a heat in his eyes that seemed impossible to ignore. He didn’t say anything, just shuffling the papers into neater piles.

Meredith stood. “Mm, there’s no need to concern yourself with it now. You don’t have to think about weddings. Just one celebration, and then, I’ll make a promise to you. You don’t need to deal with your own coronation.”

Maron sighed. “Thank you. For now, both of those things are quite far off.”

“Unless, of course, you follow your father’s hopes and marry Lord Altrusia,” she said. Her smile was weaker now, almost pained as she said it. “I don’t mean to pry, and your feelings and ascension plans are yours to keep private, but…”

Maron shook his head. “No. He’s not an option.” His voice was certain and firm. Even with the strange exchange yesterday, it was unwavering. It wasn’t that Finneas had expected him to change his mind, but he found himself more relieved than he expected to be.

“I believe your father would have you take the throne quickly if you did,” she said. “He quite likes him. And as much as I believe in you as a ruler, I do think he would cause you trouble.”

Maron raised a brow. “Has father said anything to you about it?”

She nodded. “He thinks Damon would keep you moving toward his own vision as a leader.” The smile was gone entirely now, replaced with the faintest frown. She glanced toward Finneas. It was unpleasant, knowing exactly why it was him that she turned toward. “I don’t think things will get worse under your father’s rule, but I cannot foresee them getting better.” Her eyes darted around the room, swallowing. Her voice grew lower. “I have concerns for everyone’s safety in the long term. Particularly if Nadia is ever found out.”

Finneas sighed, letting his eyes fall shut. There were layers to the options at hand. If Maron were to marry someone his father approved of, if he were to take the throne and become king, he would be able to protect Nadia. There was no action that could be taken against her at that point– the only person with true legal authority over her was the king himself. But, in marrying, depending upon the arrangement made, he would likely be granting equal power to his partner. And, God forbid, if anything happened to him, his partner would inherit the throne. If that was Altrusia, it spelled trouble. However, waiting until his father became too old to rule was as much of a risk. Especially for Nadia. And, if Finneas was honest, himself.

It was a decision no one else was qualified to make. Only Maron.

“We’ll do everything in our power to keep Nadia from harm,” Finneas said. “I’ll continue to work with her as best as I can.”

Meredith nodded. “Thank you, boys. I can’t tell you how much it means to me for you to take care of her.”

Maron closed the folder before him. “Of course. No one should live in fear like that.” He glanced toward Finneas, and once again, he swore he could feel that weight again. He didn’t like the way everyone’s eyes seemed to drift toward him when they spoke like this. He just looked back down at his papers, not saying a word. “I hate to cut our meeting short, but if it’s possible, it would be best for me to continue in my room.”

Finneas didn’t need elaboration. He rose, tucking the folder beneath his arm. “Of course, Your Highness. Your Majesty, thank you for your help. I will go through the rest of the selections and have them prepared by tomorrow morning.” He opened the door, waiting for the others to pass before locking it behind him.

The walk to Maron’s room was short, but from the corner of his eye, Finneas could see the man unsteady on his crutches. He held the doors, following him to his room. As Maron settled into his bed, Finneas took a seat at the desk, pulling open the folder in front of him. There was plenty more to go over, all of it minute and tedious. Most of it he wouldn’t need Maron’s direct input on, but it would be better to stay close to him while he worked in case his opinion was needed.

Finneas glanced over his shoulder, frowning when he saw Maron laying on his side, a small stuffed fox clutched to his chest. He didn’t usually reach for that comfort. Finneas rose, moving toward him, and placed a gentle hand on Maron’s arm.

The way Maron flinched at his touch as new. “I– Sorry, I didn’t expect you,” he said.

“No, my apologies, Your Highness. Are you alright? I can find some painkillers.”

Maron shook his head. “No. They make me too groggy and we have too much to do.” He sighed. Finneas nodded. As much as he wanted to give the man instant relief, he wouldn’t press the issue.  “Let’s just finish this as quickly as we can so we can both sleep.”

Finneas nodded, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair from the man’s eyes and rested his hand there for just a moment. Maron didn’t flinch, and for that Finneas was grateful. He didn’t pull away.