"I can see it, Captain! Stormwatch dead ahead!"
"Good eye, Nolan!"
Nolan, ex guard and current privateer, beamed with pride. Captain Redmarrow, although a bit overwhelming at first, was a good man at his core. A heart of gold with some rough edges, with a soft spot for lost young men, had taken the once guard under his wing.
It had been just over a year since Nolan had left the Kingdom with the Captain and his crew. After the events of the failed marriage ceremony, Count Cinbran had taken the pirates on to work for him instead. A bit more noble than piracy proper, and rather lucrative, Redmarrow was happy to take him up on the offer.
Count Cinbran was himself along for the ride today. It was sunny and warm as they pulled into the port, a perfect day for the occasion. Gulls called happily as men and boys helped the privateers unload onto carriages bound for the castle. The Kingdom was alight with life and love. Children chased each other through the streets, underfoot, but only mildly scolded. Everyone was eager for the celebration to begin.
"Nolan!" A familiar voice called out over the noise of the bustling port. It belonged to The Phantom, or Captain Varena as she was now known. King Finbar had recently elevated her to the position of Captain of the Guard.
On horseback beside her was the Court Jester, who just so happened to be her husband Sir Reynard. He had hung up the Echo name when he had given up banditry. Although he had not joined the Royal Guard after being knighted, he did rather like the title of Sir. Finbar, a man of good humor, had offered Reynard an archaic job for Stormwatch, and found that he was uniquely skilled.
He entertained the King and the people alike, kept up morale, said the things that everyone was thinking but that one one would vocalize. A few interpersonal court issues had been cleared up thanks to his comedic poking at them. Stormwatch still even hosted parties, but not nearly as decadent and frequent as they had under Nicobar, and far more open to all.
He did not have to dress like a fool either, though he did enjoy his outfits on the more outlandish and colorful side these days. Patchwork clothing had become rather popular of late.
The pair escorted them to the castle, where their party was greeted by the Royal Chef, Sir Gristle. He too had stepped away from the Guard, but he could not stop feeding people. When King Finbar tried a meal prepared by Gristle, he offered him the position a position as chef. He agreed on the condition that he could feed the whole kingdom at least once per year. It was not long before he found himself in charge of all the kitchens.
Today, he had outdone himself. A celebration like this didn't happen every day!
The Good King, ruler of Stormwatch Kingdom, waited rather impatiently. The wedding was due to commence any time now. Having no children of his own, married only to his kingdom, it was a significant honor to walk Princess Adora down the aisle. He had been trusted to give her away, and that was not something he took lightly.
He peered around the door, and into the chapel. It had needed significant repair after the failed wedding his younger brother had tried to arrange. The ceiling had been built back taller, to feature even more stained glass windows, a favorite of the King. Colored light poured in through holy scenes, casting splotches of color on the guests.
The building was full to bursting, with even more waiting outside. Nearly all of Stormwatch had arrived for the wedding.
'Not all of Stormwatch,' thought the King, only a touch bittersweet.
Far away from the kingdom, in a quaint monastery in the mountains, his brother Nicobar, the once Prince of Stormwatch now spent his days. In the letters Finbar received, much to his surprise, his brother seemed to be taking to life as a monk exceptionally well.
It had been a difficult start, but something had changed in Nicobar, and changed for the better. His leaving had, however, introduced a bit of an issue regarding succession.
Adora was an excellent choice for queen, Finbar had decided, and the Prince of the People would be a splendid the King.
In her room, Princess Adora was being tended to and fawned over. This time she didn't feel like a doll, but like a true bride. Lady Hersillia patted her weepy eyes with a floating handkerchief, taking care to avoid her makeup. The Lady had been rather emotional of late, but Adora thought that had more to do with the round belly Hersillia was hiding under her voluminous dress.
"Please?" Adora begged.
"Your Majesty," said Lady Hersillia, charmed. "You know that I cannot allow you to go."
"Oh please, Hersillia! Just for ten minutes, then I'll be right back. Give me a pocket spell, come get me after ten minutes, but please please please let me go."
Hersillia thought of her own wedding. A quiet, beach-side affair at sunset.
Adora had been the picture of an ideal bride and future queen, patient and calm. She had asked for little, and given much in return already. Who would it harm?
"Ten minutes, and one minute more!" Said Hersillia with a smile, and slipped the princess a few pocket spells. Adora thanked her profusely as she embraced her beloved mentor and matron.
Meanwhile, Grimholt was also being tended to. His suit was been dressed in was the fanciest clothing he had ever worn. It had been custom tailored for him, using squares and scraps of fabric that had been lovingly donated by everyone.
"Don't you think you've spent enough time looking at yourself in the mirror?" Asked Calden, just Calden, as he levitated the very mirror before Grimholt. He was concentrating very hard to levitate it, but still found time to slip in a jab.
"Looks like your time at the mage college is paying off. You're getting quite good with magic," said Grimholt with a smirk. "Too bad you can't use it to make yourself less ugly."
"Oh stuff it."
"Come now. Didn't your good lady wife say to watch your temper?"
"You're lucky that it's your wedding day or I wouldn't be playing nice." Both men were smiling.
There was a small knock at the window, followed by another, then another. Curious, Calden
threw open the window and was greeted to a small rock hitting him in the forehead. Looking down he was surprised to see Princess Adora looking up at him.
"Oh sorry, Calden! Are you alright?"
"Adora?" Cried Grimholt in surprise. He ran to the window shoved Calden aside to see his bride-to-be smiling up at him. "What are you doing? Is everything all right?"
"Yes, everything is alright, darling, but come down here. I have something I need to show you. I've only got ten minutes so, hurry down!" She looked like the most beautiful lily in her dress.
"Isn't it bad luck for me to be seeing you right now?"
"How could it be any worse than what we've been through already?"
"She makes a fair point," Sylven muttered to Calden. "Right, I'm going to pop away with the missus for a bit. Be back soon, Cal."
"You'd better be!" Calden called behind him as Sylven flew down the stairs, and out to her. "Or my missus will have both of our behinds."
"Hello, love," said Sylven tenderly when he made it to the her, kissing her cheek. She snatched him by the hand and began to tug him toward the maze. Glancing down to her hand in his, he could not help but smile again at the sight of their rings.
How was this his real life?
"Quickly, darling! We'll take one of our shortcuts."
They ran through the secret pathways, zigging and zagging, and laughing all the while. Good King Finbar had seen to it that the gardens and the hedge maze were restored to their previous luster, and the spring weather was showing the fruits of that labor.
"Where are you taking me?" He asked.
"We are almost there. Patience is a virtue."
"So is honesty, my love." That earned him a rough yank through the final bush, and into the center of the maze.
It was a circle, with tall hedge all around. A secret spot that his father had lovingly crafted, just for them to meet. To his surprise there was now a tall, stone statue right in the middle. It depicted a humble man in overalls, bushy mustache, wistful yet mischievous smile, holding a rose.
"Father," he said, breath catching in his throat. Tears prickled hotly in his eyes. "That is my father."
Adora squeezed his hand. "This is my wedding gift to you, Sylven. It won't be staying hidden in the maze. I had this commissioned, and it shall be displayed in pride of place in the royal gardens in a grand ceremony later today. Please act surprised, because Finbar is very proud of his plan to surprise you. I just thought he," she indicated the statue, and pressed a kiss to Sylven's hand, "looked rather fitting here. I thought you might like a private moment the first time you saw him."
She released his hand.
He took a tentative step toward the statue. Tears slipped down his cheeks and splashed onto his very proper suit.
As always, Adora had known exactly what he wanted. Knew that this would be his reaction and that he would be mortified to weep in public, no matter how good the intentions of the King were. The statue of his father was tall but not enormous, and he felt like a small child once again at his father's side.
He reached the statue, and read the inscription upon the shining bronze plaque. "André Rosette. Royal Gardener. Devoted Father. Dearly Beloved."
The statue face of André smiled tenderly, a precious moment of paternal serenity captured forevermore. Sylven wept now, big boyish tears.
"Thank you," he finally managed. His lips tasted of salt, and he rubbed the tears away with his palm. "Thank you so much, Adora. I love you."
She crossed to him, taking his arm gently and kissing his cheek. "I love you too, Sylven."
Fin