Adam's chair scraped violently as he surged to his feet, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"Enough!" he snarled, voice like a thunderclap. "You sit in cushioned chairs while others bleed and dare to question whether or not we're dealing with the situation? Do not mistake our caution for weakness. Do not mistake my Queen's compassion for inaction. If you doubt her...if you doubt us...say it to my face and let's see how long your courage lasts!"
Half the table flinched. The other half went rigid with offended dignity.
"Better reign the attack dog back in," Maeve warned. "He looks like he's one insult away from using a lord as a javelin."
"Adam," Ann murmured as she placed her fingers lightly on his forearm.
He was trembling with fury, his fingertips biting into the table until it threatened to splinter. Her touch tugged him back a fraction. With a guttural sound, he dropped into his chair again, the growl still low in his chest.
"Ah, so this is the famed temper of our Alpha," Maeve purred, "I wonder if we'll get to see it in all its glory?"
"Now isn't the time Maeve…"
The meeting lurched forward slowly filled with more reports, more numbers, more data. Adam listened intently as a captain outlined current patrol routes; a steward droned on about the supply routes that had to be diverted because of raider activity. Every sentence carried the echo of the survivors' voices and Adam's temper.
Lord Veynar cleared his throat.
"If Ely's remaining forces are moving with such… well planned initiative, is it really prudent to keep our strongest assets here?" He offered as his eyes slid to Adam. "Perhaps the Alpha's time would be better spent..."
"Say it," Adam snapped. "Finish the thought."
Veynar's jaw clenched as he fought a smirk,
"On campaign, rather than shadowing court."
Ann smiled back Lord Veynar without any trace of warmth.
"The Alpha's time is spent where I, the Queen, ask him to spend it. At present, that includes managing the border and guard detail and matters in this chamber. If you wish to advise specifically on military deployment, then submit it in writing. Otherwise, refrain from implying we do not know how to allocate our own resources."
"There she is." Maeve hummed happily.
Lady Isolde leaned in, her politeness worn over a thinly veiled attempt at undermining Ann's authority.
"No one questions your… allocation, Your Majesty. We simply note that the people need visible strength. Some might argue..."
"Some might argue we show it by not abandoning our wounded and frightened and relegating tales of their survival to the gossip columns," Ann said, still smiling and matching her false politeness perfectly, "Do you want soldiers at the gates or food in your stores? Because we are providing both."
Isolde's lips thinned behind her gloves.
The old survivor shifted, pain etched across his face.
"We didn't come for your speeches," he said, not unkindly. "We came for your protection.."
"You'll have it," Ann said, softer. "Guaranteed by decree before the sun sets."
"Make sure it does," Maeve urged. "Don't let their whispers outrun your pen."
By the time the chamber finally emptied, Ann's temples throbbed and a slow ache dragged low across her back where the pups had settled unhelpfully against her spine. She stayed seated a moment after the last lord bowed himself out, fingers pressing into her brow, listening to the echo of it all.
Weakness.
Inaction.
Pregnant and distracted.
"What a charming little chorus of sycophants," Maeve muttered. "The loudest of them all is the one who kept staring at your stomach like it might hatch a prophecy."
Ann let out a sound that was halfway to a laugh.
"Please stop Maeve, I feel guilty laughing at a time like this..."
"I will, if you will," Maeve said, gentler. "You can't ignore the way they talk. If doubt spreads too far, it won't just be Ely's madness that we're fighting."
Ann's gaze drifted to where Adam stood, his broad shoulders squared and framed by the edges of the windows as he stared out over the Palace grounds like he could hold the whole kingdom together by will alone.
He'd snapped twice during the meeting...once publicly, once under his breath...and every time she'd pulled him back by a thread. He hated the whispers. He hated the way their eyes slid to her belly and then away, like they were plotting the early demise of everything that he held dear in the world.
"You felt it too," Maeve said. "The way his temper's fusing with his fear."
"I know." Ann rubbed a hand over her abdomen, the pups responding with a flurry of flutters that were almost a reprimand. "I'm trying to hold him steady. Hold all of this steady."
"Then give them something to shut up about," Maeve said briskly. "Announce the refugee decree before lunch. Put soldiers on those village roads today, not tomorrow. And have Coral draft a statement about the survivors you sheltered. It's not empty PR...our people need to hear it. They need to hear you."
Ann drew a slow breath.
"You're bossy today…and impatient."
"When the fuck am I not?" Maeve snorted in reply.
The door to a side antechamber clicked and the woman who had entered with the child earlier stood there, hesitantly as she stared at Ann with wide, red-rimmed eyes.
"Your Majesty," she stammered in a voice barely above a whisper, "the guards told me to wait here. I just...thank you."
Ann pushed to her feet, ignoring the twinge in her back, and crossed the few steps between them.
"No thanks are necessary, really. If a Queen can't take care of her people, then what kind of leader am I. Don't worry, we'll see to everything."
The woman nodded gratefully as her tears welled up again.
"May the goddess bless you."
As the door closed, Adam finally broke the silence without turning.
"They don't deserve you, you know?"
"They deserve more than speeches," Ann said as she moved to stand beside him, shoulder to shoulder, looking out over the rooftops.
"They look at you and see softness, but they look at me and see the reputation that I have for violence, and somehow they think those are separate strengths that won't hesitate to stand up for the other when needed." He huffed a humorless breath. "I nearly ripped that lord's throat out."
"I noticed," Ann said dryly. "Next time, warn me so I can have Coral bring towels."
A reluctant smile pulled at his mouth, then faded. "I'm trying. I am. But if one more of them implies you're unfit because you're carrying our children..."
"Then you'll try to remember that I don't need you to win every fight for me," she said, resting her palm over his. "I need you to help me outlast them...and perhaps stop fussing over me so publicly."
"Short translation? Breathe, big bad Alpha." Maeve snorted fondly.
He was quiet for a few seconds before glancing at her.
"Do you think we can hold all of this together while raising a family?" he asked finally.
"Yes, I think so," she smiled as she squeezed his hand and turned from the window, "I'm going to sign the refugee decree now and send runners to the border villages with writs for patrol coverage. Have the barracks shift their schedules so that they're ready in the next hour or two, but no later than that. I'll make sure that Coral lets the kitchens know we're feeding more mouths tonight."