Chapter 2
The marriage of King Charles of Westchester to Prince Erik of Genosha had changed every possible political landscape, ending generations of war and turning two nations that had hated each other for decades into family. Whether they liked it or not.
Adjustments had to be made by all, and at every turn, competing and often contradictory traditions and values tripped up even the most genuine efforts at peace and friendliness—even, or perhaps especially, in the royal household itself.
Naming customs, for instance.
In Genosha, the longstanding tradition was to name children—especially the first child—after a maternal grandparent of the bearing parent. In this case, that would be Queen Edie's mother, Anya.
In Westchester, on the other hand, it was customary to name the heir to the throne after the previous serving monarch of that sex—in this case, alpha female. That would be Charles's great-aunt, Queen Lorna.
"Did Charles ever even meet his great-aunt Lorna?" Edie asked frostily, standing outside the bedchamber with everyone else who had been neatly ejected from the room. Charles, Erik, and the new baby were the only ones inside it now, and the corridor was filled with milling bodyguards, physicians, prayer-singers, and royal messengers, who bounced on their toes in confused impatience, ready to be off with their news as soon as it was given.
"No," said Lady Raven, the King's childhood Companion and now close advisor. Her tone was every bit as cool as the Genoshan queen's. "She died before he was born. But he has always particularly admired her legacy of fairness and compassion."
Edie laughed, a surprised and appalled sort of sound. "It might surprise you to know she is regarded rather differently in Genosha."
"Are we not to let bygones be bygones?" Raven arched a brow. "Is that not the point of this marriage, this child, in the first place?"
Edie's expression was stony. "Erik was very close to his Grandmother Anya. He's spoken many times of wanting to name a child for her—"
"An omega child, surely, Anya works much better on—"
"—ever since she was killed in the Amberley Massacre."
Raven went still. So did most everyone else in the corridor.
After a moment Raven began swearing under breath, rubbing at her brow as if her head ached. "Trust your people to call it a massacre. Queen Lorna did nothing wrong—even if the commander's actions had been improper, which they were not, they were his own and not—"
"Is not a ruler responsible for the actions of those in his or her command?"
"But surely you see that it would be impossible for Charles to name his child after someone killed in the Amberley… incident! What a peculiar political statement that would be!"
"But he could name her for her great-grandmother's murderer?"
"Peace," Charles said, and they both jumped, turning toward the door neither of them had noticed opening. Charles looked tired and disheveled, but he was smiling. "Are the messengers still here? Ah, good. Ready yourselves for the announcement."
The door opened wider, and Erik stepped up to Charles's side, clean and dressed now, and holding the baby princess swaddled in yards of white lace. He leaned into the arm Charles slipped around his waist, looking utterly satisfied with what his long and painful efforts had produced.
"My beloved husband and I are pleased to announce the birth of an heir to the Westchester crown, an alpha daughter," Charles said, and Raven couldn't help marveling at how naturally noble and grand he seemed, even now, with neither robes nor crown—when two years ago he had curled up shaking on the floor and told her he had no idea how to be a king.
"Our child will grow up in a time of peace and plenty, a glorious new era for us all," Charles continued. "She could never have existed in the old world of violence and hate; only in the coming together of our two kingdoms, our two families, could we have created something entirely new and precious. The name we bestow upon her reflects her position as a symbol and source of this new world. I present to you," he pulled white lace away from her tiny sleeping face, his expression softening, "your Crown Princess, Hope Frances Maximiliana Lehnsherr Xavier."
Cheers erupted through the corridors, now crowded with servants and courtiers and everyone who could elbow their way into the press.
Princess Hope. Someday, Queen Hope. Raven and Edie looked at each other consideringly, then nodded—and turned their attention back to the newest, tiny member of their family.