Chapter 64: A Queen’s Kind of Trouble

Naya arrived at her morning audience expecting routine requests, only to find two representatives already arguing before she’d even taken her seat. The dispute concerned the upcoming Moon Court festivities, specifically the capital’s traditional ceremonial run through the outer grounds. Several visiting packs wanted the route changed to accommodate their delegations, while local organizers insisted the route belonged to the capital’s oldest pack tradition.

What sounded trivial at first took on weight once Naya learned that changing the route would exclude several local families who’d participated in the run for generations.

Ronan was called away to handle a border report before the meeting properly began. “The council’s already spent two meetings arguing about this,” he said, pulling on his coat.

“Two meetings?”

“Three, if you count the one where they argued about who was responsible for the first two.”

Naya laughed despite herself.

He kissed her cheek on his way out. “Try not to declare war before lunch.”

“No promises.”

She asked Lyra to join the meeting with the organizers, knowing she understood how neighboring packs approached ceremonial customs better than anyone else available. Lyra agreed readily, though she warned Naya beforehand that some visiting Alphas treated tradition as little more than a contest over status.

Sure enough, one representative suggested almost immediately that the local families should simply accept the new route, given that visiting Alphas carried greater political importance.

Lyra challenged the assumption instantly. “A visiting delegation leaves after the celebration ends. The local families are the ones who maintain these grounds and preserve the ceremony year after year.”

Naya appreciated the honesty without adopting it wholesale. Instead, she turned to the local organizers and asked which parts of the route were truly essential to the tradition, then asked the visiting packs what they actually needed from the arrangement. The conversation shifted, slowly, from pride into something more practical.

Lyra caught her eye across the table, clearly impressed.

Naya was beginning to understand that being Queen didn’t always mean speaking the loudest in the room. Sometimes it simply meant asking the question everyone else had been too proud to ask.

Later, she walked the ceremonial grounds herself with Lyra and Serena, following the route through a wooded stretch where young wolves traditionally began the run beside their families before joining the larger procession. Serena explained the formal history while an elderly organizer, her hands weathered from years of preparing the grounds, described how entire families built their year around this single event.

Naya noticed something the council’s endless meetings had apparently missed. The proposed route change would make participation considerably harder for the youngest and oldest members of the pack, the very people the tradition was meant to include.

Rather than reject the visitors’ request outright, she studied the terrain and asked a simple question. Did the visiting delegations need a more prominent starting position, or did they simply need better access to witness the ceremony properly?

The answer, once asked plainly, turned out to be the latter.

“This is what happens when powerful people argue before asking what they actually need,” Lyra remarked.

“You sound remarkably experienced,” Naya said.

“I have a father who attends council meetings.”

They exchanged a knowing look.

Naya proposed keeping the traditional route intact while creating a separate ceremonial entrance for the visiting delegations, giving them the recognition they wanted without displacing a single local family. She suggested staggering the procession as well, so the older participants and youngest wolves weren’t forced into the fastest stretch alongside everyone else.

One Alpha’s representative objected that the arrangement gave the local families too much influence over the proceedings.

Naya answered calmly, without raising her voice or invoking Ronan’s authority to silence him. “The celebration existed before your delegation arrived, and it will continue after you leave.” She asked whether he had a specific concern the arrangement failed to address.

He had none.

The representatives agreed shortly after, and Lyra offered Naya a small, approving smile once the meeting finally ended.

“You’re getting good at making people realize they’ve been arguing about nonsense.”

“I’d rather they realize it before the next three meetings,” Naya said.

Ronan returned from his border meeting later that afternoon expecting another unresolved complaint waiting for him. Instead, Darius informed him the dispute had already been settled, and the organizers were busy preparing the revised schedule.

“Did she need my intervention?” Ronan asked.

“No,” Darius said.

Something close to pride settled over Ronan’s expression as he made his way toward Naya, finding her reviewing the final arrangements with Serena. He waited until the room cleared before approaching her.

“I hear you saved the council another meeting,” he said.

“Three, apparently.”

“You’ve done the kingdom a service.”

“Are you impressed?” Naya asked.

“Very.”

She’d expected praise for solving the problem. The warmth in his voice was something else entirely. He told her he liked watching her take a problem apart until she found the piece everyone else had overlooked.

“I was nervous about making the wrong decision,” she admitted.

“Courage isn’t the absence of uncertainty,” Ronan said. “It’s making a thoughtful decision despite it.”

He kissed her, lingering long enough that the paperwork on the table between them became entirely forgettable for a few moments.

Lyra found her in the gardens later that day, asking whether the Queen would care to escape her responsibilities for a short walk.

“You’re determined to corrupt the monarchy,” Naya said.

They walked through the grounds together, conversation drifting easily between the celebration and their families. Lyra admitted she’d genuinely enjoyed helping, though she made it just as clear she expected no political favors in return. Naya appreciated that more than Lyra probably realized. So many people approached her only because she was Ronan’s wife, or because they wanted something from the crown. Lyra had become something entirely different, someone Naya could disagree with, laugh with, simply spend time beside without calculating consequences.

“Are you attending the ceremonial run?” Lyra asked.

“I am.”

“Good. I need another chance to beat you at something.”

“You cheated last time.”

“I adapted to the terrain.”

“You went around a rock.”

“A very strategic rock.”

That evening, Naya sat down to review the next day’s schedule when Ronan appeared and closed the folder before she could open it.

“You said we were protecting one evening a week,” she said, surprised.

“It’s not our evening yet.”

“Then consider this practice.”

He persuaded her to leave the paperwork until morning and led her instead to the palace balcony, where they shared a quiet drink and watched the grounds below being prepared for the celebration. Naya rested against him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, the night settling comfortably around them.

“I like being Queen more,” she said, “when I can solve a problem without having to prove myself to everyone in the room.”

“You don’t have to prove yourself to me either,” Ronan said.

She looked up at him. “I’m beginning to believe you.”

“Good. I’d hate to repeat myself.”

She kissed him before he could say anything further, and the quiet of the evening wrapped around them both, nothing waiting on the other side of it but tomorrow’s celebration.