Trinket (Reverse Harem)

Word Games

 My jaw hung loose.

He rested his cheek on his hand, a smile on his face.

Minutes ticked by.

"Did you really just propose to me?" I asked.

"Not officially. I proposed the proposal."

"I am a Foundling. Your Ravens--"

"You have a Hippocamp title and are accepted into the Queen's Court. You say you are nothing, I say you are null. You can be anything and everything to anyone. The Hippocamp are simply the ones who claimed you first, and you accepted what they offered. Tell me how this doesn't solve the problem? Which is quickly becoming a crisis. A quiet crisis."

"And the world rotting out from under us isn't a crisis?"

"You think the gods will be happy if I marry politically, or that my people and allies will be happy if I Turn The Wheel and abdicate my place as Lord of Haven?"

"Go to the Churn and let the gods figure it out then," I said darkly.

"You know that's impossible. Look at the crisis now facing the Hippocamp. Ormiss has a trinket, the Queen is getting old, the Princess is dead, and the Queen's son was not groomed to rule. Ormiss will likely ascend as King, but he's obligated to marry an unknown, while the fate of Balance is skewed. The question is not is this the right thing to do, it is do you think the Queen would accept our union?"

"I think the Queen doesn't like me as much as you think," I said frankly.

"Then it's even more impressive you've wrangled a title from her."

"It's mostly Ormiss' doing."

"And like I said, Ormiss is going to be King. The Queen is a temporary consideration, even if she hasn't realized it yet. Your status among the Hippocamp is well-secured. It is obvious the Lord-Regent values you as highly as his cousin. I know you are annoyed at him, but his behavior with regards to you is only slightly worse than his behavior with regards to his cousin. Hippocamp stallions are absolutely deranged when it comes to defending females in their herd." Soir sighed and cast a glance at his wine like he was annoyed it wasn't already being poured down his gullet.

"The Queen won't take kindly to you suggesting I replace her daughter," I said in a low tone.

"I imagine there was some hope that you were her daughter, glamoured and unable to remember," Soir said seriously. "I admit, I hoped the same thing, although it's obvious now, you're not her."

"Yes on both counts," I said. I was in way over my head. Like drowning in a Hippocamp castle over my head. I was an idiot and I should have just stayed on that leash.

"I am not suggesting she be replaced. She can't be replaced." Soir said it with such sincerity I believed that much at least. "This isn't replacing. This is trying to keep things as they're supposed to be: a Raven marries a Hippocamp. You are, very technically, a Hippocamp. No substitute for the Princess has been suggested, I have asked, and been ignored. Now you arrive. My concern is placating the Queen until Ormiss comes to power. Ormiss, for all that he is a lightening and hooves and fury, is quite reasonable, practical, and pragmatic. I think he is a powerful ally. Even if he's clearly frustrated his own mate is nowhere to be found."

This entire conversation made me feel sick, but Soir wasn't using his songs, and my scars weren't crawling. "You two are in the same boat, then."

It was also impossible: I couldn't marry Soir.

"Which is why one of us getting out at least will slow the sinking," Soir said.

Soir even suggesting it seemed like insanity. "And how do you propose getting your Ravens to accept me? I can't command the respect of my maids, and I don't like the idea of hiding behind your authority the rest of my life."