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“Katsa, if you were queen—” Bitterblue began.
“Perish the thought!” Katsa exclaimed, flinging herself backwards to flop onto Bitterblue's bed. Then she raised her head again to look at Bitterblue. “Wait, sorry. I think that was probably rude.”
“It was rude,” Hava agreed. “As you well know. But that's what we keep you around for.” Hava was seated in front of the mirror in Bitterblue's bedchamber, and Bitterblue stood behind her, braiding her sister's hair.
“No,” Katsa retorted, from her place sprawled on the bed, “what you keep me around for is—”
Bitterblue pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, yes, but can I ask my question now?”
Katsa jumped to her feet again, never one to stay still for more than a moment. “Yes, sorry, go ahead.” She darted over to squeeze Bitterblue's shoulder and grinned at her in the mirror.
“If you were queen—” Bitterblue attempted once more. Katsa gave a theatrical shudder; Hava snorted. “Yes, we all know it would be a terrible idea. That's not my question. But if you were the sovereign of Monsea, by choice or no, would you be concerned about Amado, a minor lord near the northern border, harboring a sudden interest in visiting Bitterblue City?”
Katsa's silliness was gone at once, her entire body now stock still and focused. “You're worried about Amado?”
“No!” Bitterblue cried. “That's why I'm asking you!”
Katsa dropped to the bed again, but now it was to sit in her member-of-a-war-council posture, with her elbows propped on her knees, her torso leaning forward, and her gaze intent. “Tell me everything you know. Has he been requesting to visit here?”
Bitterblue sighed and turned from the mirror, where she'd just finished with Hava's hair, tying off the braid with a thin bit of pale blue ribbon. “No, that's what's odd. He hasn't communicated directly with me at all, yet I keep hearing secondhand that he's been asking about the court and when we might next have a banquet or a gala that's likely to include invitations to the outlying lords, or if there are no other large events planned until this year's winter gala.”
Katsa scowled. “He probably wants to marry you.”
Now it was Bitterblue who shuddered. “Perish the thought!” she said, in a passable imitation of Katsa's strident tone, and Hava laughed.
“Do you want me to visit his lands and investigate?” Katsa asked. “I've got Council business in the opposite direction from there, but it's nothing that can't wait a couple of days.”
“Do you want me to investigate, seeing as I'm your spy and beholden only to you, not to the Council?” Hava countered.
Bitterblue rolled her eyes. “Stop it, you two. No one needs to investigate. It was an idle thought and I'm sorry I asked.”
“But really, if you need me to—” Katsa began.
“It's all right, really,” Bitterblue assured her. “I'm just trying to keep my ears open. I spent enough time not knowing what was going on in my own kingdom and I'm determined not to end up in that situation again.” Katsa looked unconvinced so she added, “If I hear anything that concerns me, I'll let you know.”
“Promise,” Katsa said, looking at Bitterblue seriously.
“I promise,” Bitterblue assured her.
* * *
Bitterblue hadn't created a winter gala only as a way to gain insight about the various lords of Monsea, by inviting all of them to her court once a year, but she also hadn't exactly not done that. The winter gala was a festive event, a lot of fun, good for everybody's morale during the coldest and darkest time of the year, and it was also a chance to mingle with the many lords of small holdings scattered throughout the mountainous reaches of Monsea.
Depending on their own busy schedules of responsibilities elsewhere, Bitterblue tried to have as many of her friends as possible with her during the winter gala. This was both because she wanted to give them a chance to enjoy themselves—Katsa, for example, had been darting back and forth across the Seven Kingdoms all throughout the autumn and Bitterblue truly didn't know how she hadn't yet collapsed in a heap—and also because she valued her friends' perspectives on the dynamics amongst the guests who attended the gala.
Bitterblue had long since recognized that ruling a kingdom was never truly a job that could be carried out solo. She relied on the wisdom and insight of a great number of people who were dear to her.
Helda would attend the gala, of course, with her sharp eyes trained on every guest in turn. Po had promised Bitterblue he would attend, if he could get away in time from some obligations in Lienid. Giddon, as always, would be there, steady and capable and ever available for Bitterblue to rely on. Hava of course, although she preferred to lurk at the edges, observing people rather than interacting with the guests directly. Katsa, too, with her capability of engineering a spectacular distraction or conducting a stealth mission, depending on what any given day required. Teddy, Tilda, and Bren. Death, Madlen. Numerous others whom Bitterblue cared for and trusted.
Pausing for a moment on her way along an upstairs corridor, Bitterblue pressed her face against a cold windowpane to gaze out over the quiet beauty of the city under snow, the graceful arch of Winged Bridge and the ever-changing reflections of Winter Bridge. She thought ahead to the coming gala and found that she could hardly wait.
* * *
Po arrived at the latest possible moment, barely an hour before the gala's official start, after a wintry trek up the road from Monport. Katsa shrieked and ran to him the moment she spotted him dismounting his horse in the main courtyard, and all at once the whole world seemed made of happy chaos.
Watching the two of them wrestle and shout their joy at seeing one another no longer made Bitterblue wistful, the way it once had done. Katsa and Po both loved Bitterblue; she knew that down to her bones. Their love for Bitterblue didn't have to be equally loud to be just as real.
And if Bitterblue sometimes wished that she might one day have someone in her life who would save their most powerful joy for her, the way Katsa and Po did for one another, well, she liked to think there would be time enough in her life for that.
Giddon appeared at Bitterblue's elbow. “My apologies for taking you away from the entertainment,” he commented drily, “but Helda has been asking approximately every minute and a half where her lady queen is. I've been dispatched to find you.”
“Oh!” Bitterblue exclaimed. “Of course. I'm sorry to have made Helda worry. And, for that matter, to have made you come look for me.”
“Never a hardship, Lady Queen,” Giddon said, regarding her gravely. “Shall we?”
He offered his elbow and Bitterblue linked her arm through his, allowing herself to be drawn back into the final preparations for her own gala.
At the threshold of the ballroom, Bitterblue paused for a moment to take it all in once more. Tiny lights were strung all across the high walls and glittering chandeliers hung from the ceiling. On the dais at the far end of the room, a collection of court musicians were setting up their instruments. Several of the kitchen staff were putting final touches on a long, elegant table laden with a delicious array of pastries and winter fruits. Rows upon rows of champagne flutes stood ready, sparkling in the light, awaiting the guests who were soon to arrive. Bitterblue crossed the room to Hilda and let herself be swept back into last-minute adjustments and plans.
Po came to find her soon after that and engulfed her in a hug, his strong arms enveloping her completely. “Beetle,” he said. “You see? I made it to your gala just as promised.”
“You did!” Bitterblue exclaimed, giddy to have her cousin by her side. “Sometimes I think you spoil me too much, Po. But I suppose I'm selfish, because I don't want you to stop.”
Po laughed and released her after giving her one last squeeze. “You wield your power as the baby of the family expertly and play us all shamelessly. I've learned to live with my lot.” Bitterblue blushed and Po must have sensed her emotion because he said more seriously, “Cousin, you know I wouldn't travel across the world to see you if I didn't want to.”
Bitterblue squeezed his arm. “I appreciate you, Po. Now, go have fun.”
Guests began to arrive soon after that. Bitterblue mingled, welcomed guests, made small talk, and kept her eyes and ears open for any odd interactions that might be worth knowing about. Later in the evening, casting her eyes over the crowd, Bitterblue spotted Amado, the northern lord whose reported questions about events in Bitterblue City had caused her to prick up her ears some months before. Bitterblue glanced at Hava, who was hovering near her side, and raised her eyebrows. Hava nodded and slipped away into the crowd.
Half an hour later, after an intense bout of conversation with several lords of small holdings who all seemed to want her to resolve their minor interpersonal disputes, Bitterblue sipped from her champagne flute and allowed herself a small break, before she would have to plunge back into the fray of small talk. Hava slid up beside Bitterblue, looking very pleased with herself.
“Go on,” Bitterblue said, with a fond smile at her little sister's eagerness. “Tell me what you've learned.”
“I've overheard a few conversations with and about Lord Amado and I've learned quite a bit,” Hava said, the corners of her mouth tipping up. “It's true that Amado had been asking when there would be another gathering here, or if he would have to wait until now, until the winter gala. And there was indeed someone he was hoping to encounter here in Bitterblue City.”
Hava's grin had widened to fairly a smirk. “Yes,” Bitterblue said. “Go on, Hava.”
“But it wasn't anyone in Bitterblue City he was hoping to see. The person he wanted see, a younger son of another lord, lives in the south, nearly to Monport, so our Amado hasn't been able to think of any way to contrive an encounter with this young lordling other than at a gathering large enough that it would bring together people from all over Monsea, such as our winter gala. There's a romantic interest involved,” Hava concluded.
“I knew it!” Katsa had somehow materialized at Bitterblue's shoulder. “Didn't I say it had to do with marriage and romance and such things?”
“You thought he wanted to marry me,” Bitterblue protested.
Katsa waved a hand. “Well, I was right that it had to do with that sort of thing, in some way. It always seems to be about marrying someone,” Katsa added with a frown. “And really, if Lord Amado wanted to marry someone, he should have wanted to marry you.”
“I'm confused,” Hava put in. “I thought you detested the idea of marriage. Why would you want some lord you don't even know to marry Bitterblue?”
Katsa shook her head. “I don't want him to marry Bitterblue. But I think he should want to marry Bitterblue. Surely anyone would recognize that Bitterblue is the best person they could possibly meet. And thus if they wanted to marry anyone, they should want to marry Bitterblue.”
Bitterblue stared at Katsa. Hava let out a laugh of delighted surprise.
“Katsa, you're really weird,” Hava muttered. But despite her grumbling tone, the words sounded surprisingly fond.
“Katsa,” Bitterblue said. “That's such a strange way of saying something really lovely. But it is lovely. Thank you. I think you're the best possible person, too.”
Katsa threw her hands in the air. “All right, now we're all three of us just being silly.” But she grinned as she said it. “Bitterblue, can I hug you or will I mess up your nice gown and whatever other fancy things are draped about your person right now?”
“You might mess up my gown and I don't care,” Bitterblue said stoutly. She flung her arms around Katsa and squeezed, feeling the steady beat of Katsa's heart. Katsa squeezed back, her arms powerful, her cheek warm against Bitterblue's temple. Being hugged by Katsa was one of the Bitterblue's favorite feelings in the world.
“Let's go enjoy the dancing,” Katsa suggested, once she'd let Bitterblue go. “Surely you've done enough intelligence gathering for tonight, Bitterblue. Come on and enjoy yourself for a while.”
“Yes, come on, Bitterblue,” Hava agreed.
Bitterblue stared back and forth between both of them. “You both hate dancing.”
“We don't have to dance,” Hava pointed out. “We can watch the other people dancing and make fun of them.”
“I'm the queen!” Bitterblue protested. “I can't make fun of people! These are all my guests, people I invited here. My whole job is to be gracious to them.”
“Well,” Hava conceded, “then I suppose we can make fun of them and you can just listen.”
“No making fun of anyone,” Bitterblue repeated, trying to sound stern despite the laughter that threatened to bubble out of her. “We're all going to be nice today, Hava, all right?”
Katsa snorted, but her smile at both of them was fond. “Ready?”
And Bitterblue allowed them to pull her further into the ballroom, these two chosen sisters of hers, until she lost herself in the noise and joy of the crowd.