Saving the Immortal

Chapter Thirty-Five: Recognition

The throne room held the entire royal family once more, gathered in a formality I had not expected given the early hour — Caspian, Fennick, and Marrow standing near their father, their wives assembled to one side, all of them turning to watch as Ruselon and I entered together.

I walked in with my head held high, whatever nerves lingered from the summons carefully disguised behind the same composure I had learned, over a lifetime of court appearances, to wear regardless of what uncertainty churned beneath it.

The king rose from his throne as we approached, and to my genuine astonishment, began to applaud.

"Princess Ivy," he said, his voice carrying across the chamber with a warmth I had not once heard from him before, "I owe you a debt I did not expect to find myself owing."

I glanced at Ruselon, uncertain, and found him watching his father with equal confusion.

"The tariff dispute with the southern provinces," the king continued, "has plagued this council for nearly a full season now. I attempted three separate resolutions myself before departing for war, each of them rejected by the merchants as insufficient. And in my absence, my own daughter-in-law resolved it within a single afternoon."

The room fell into a particular hush.

"The tiered arrangement you proposed," the king said, addressing me directly now, "has already secured agreement from every merchant house involved. Word arrived only this morning confirming the shipments will proceed exactly as you arranged them. You have done what I, and my entire council, failed to accomplish for months."

I felt heat rise to my cheeks, though this time it carried pride rather than embarrassment.

"I am pleased it proved useful, Your Majesty," I said carefully.

"Useful," the king repeated, something almost amused in his tone now. "You are considerably too modest, Princess. I confess I did not expect such sharp economic understanding from a bride secured for soldiers and grain. I find myself reconsidering a great many assumptions I have carried about you since your arrival."

I glanced sideways at Ruselon.

He was staring at me with an expression I had rarely seen from him — genuine, unguarded shock, his dark eyes wide with something that looked almost like disbelief, as though he was only now discovering an entirely new dimension to the woman he had married.

"You did this," he said quietly, more to me than to the room at large. "While I was away. You resolved a matter that has troubled my father's entire council for a full season."

"I simply paid attention, as I told the others," I said, though I could not entirely suppress the small smile tugging at my mouth.

The king dismissed the gathering shortly after, satisfied with having properly acknowledged what he clearly considered a debt owed, and the other wives filed out with expressions ranging from grudging respect to poorly concealed envy. Delia, in particular, would not meet my eyes as she passed, and I found myself, rather uncharitably, enjoying that small victory nearly as much as the king's praise itself.

Ruselon walked me to the corridor beyond the throne room, though duty clearly still awaited him within — some further council matter, judging by the way his father lingered, watching us both with an expression considerably softer than I had witnessed from him before.

"I must return," Ruselon said, "my father wishes to discuss the war's aftermath further. But Ivy—" He paused, still shaking his head slightly, that same shocked wonder lingering in his expression. "I am still trying to properly understand how you managed this. Economic strategy, tariff negotiations — where did such knowledge come from?"

"I told your father the truth of it," I said. "I paid attention, as a girl, when no one thought it mattered whether I did or not."

"I am astonished by you," he admitted quietly. "More with each passing day, I think. I married a woman I believed I understood the shape of, and I find instead I have only just begun to discover how much more there is to know."

"I shall see you later," I said, reaching up to touch his cheek gently. "Whenever your father releases you properly."

"I look forward to it," he said, catching my hand and pressing a kiss to my palm before releasing me. "Though I confess, I intend to spend the remainder of this council meeting rather distracted, turning over precisely how remarkable my wife has proven herself to be."

I laughed softly, warmth spreading through my chest at the genuine admiration in his voice.

"Go," I said. "Your father waits."

He lingered a moment longer, watching me with that same wondering expression, before finally turning back toward the throne room, and I made my way back toward our quarters with a lightness in my step I had not felt in longer than I could properly remember — the particular, quiet triumph of finally being seen, by husband and king alike, as considerably more than the ordinary bride this court had once assumed me to be.