The carriage released them outside the city itself, in front of a wooden palisade wall of sorts—the space between the palings was filled with mortared stone up to chest height, and woven wattling above that. In front of a gate waited a woman, neatly dressed and wearing an apron that showed a blue swan prominently. She opened the gate and ushered them through.

On the other side was a garden out of a fantasy, bright with flowers and fountains and fanciful statues.

There was one woman there alone... although she hardly seemed to be a woman rather than a girl, probably younger than any of them. Her richly golden-yellow dress showed considerable embroidery, and the chemise beneath had been dyed a soft pale blue; her nearly-white hair was in elaborate braids, pinned with gold. She had a basket hooked over one arm and was using a pair of shears to neatly harvest flowers of several varieties and colours.

“Come in,” she greeted them. “Herlinde will be here in a moment. Make yourselves comfortable. I’m Radegunde.”

Rad... the queen?

“Your Majesty,” Teoda stammered. “We’re sorry, we...”

“Sorry for what? Please, don’t fuss. Sometimes it’s pleasant to just be Radegunde, not the queen, and this garden is my sanctuary for that purpose. I know you’re the group from Rosebridge. I’m sorry about how abruptly the arrangements were made. Believe me, it’s gentler than Cuthred’s methods, and he was running out of patience. And if it allows me to prove to my new husband that I am useful for more than simply bearing heirs, then we all win, no?” That smile was charming and friendly, inviting them to relax and share in the conspiracy to go behind the King’s back to find a better solution.

“We... wish our respective parents had sorted it out when they were first told to,” Ferrand said. “It would have been easier all around.”

“Sometimes there’s just no arguing with parents,” Radegunde said. She set her shears in her basket and the whole thing on a stone pedestal, then seated herself on a bench.

Charming and friendly... but she was still the authority behind the ruling that had turned their lives upside-down.

They did obey the command-disguised-as-invitation to sit down on the stone benches and soft short grass, but it was with some wariness still, despite Radegunde’s cheerfulness.

She studied them all briefly, then smiled at Aelfeva. “Ah, you’re the one Herlinde changed. Is your sister not coming out of the cloister?”

“No, ma’am,” Aelfeva said, distinctly uncomfortable discussing this with a stranger. “I told her to stay and learn.”

“You like being a woman better, then? I think I should have been born a man. I’m sure I could have convinced the council in my homeland that I would make a better heir than my brother. But only a man can be king and anyone with any magic about them is disqualified. I’ll just have to make the best of being Queen of Eadwald instead. Which one are you marrying?”

Josceran raised a hand. “That would be me, ma’am.”

“You aren’t going to be unpleasant about it, are you? Seidkona transformations are complete.”

“No. I’m more interested in my best friend and I... making the best of it.”

“Oh, good.” Radegunde looked up. “Ah, there you are, Herlinde.”

“Apologies, my queen,” Herlinde said, striding across the garden to join them. “One of your other gifts needed attention.” She stopped and planted the base of her staff on the ground, feet shoulder-width apart. “Now. You lot wished to talk to me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Josceran said. “Two things happened in very quick succession. We... well, the girls... spoke to Leofeva, in Fritha’s cloister.”

Herlinde nodded. “I verified that she was there and then wasted no further time on it. Either you could persuade her to change her mind or not, and either way, there was nothing for me to do.”

“I told her to stay there,” Aelfeva said quietly. “It matters a lot to her, more than anything, and she’d be unhappy with anything else.”

Another nod. “And for you to choose that path instead of trying to persuade her was also a possibility. That’s an acceptable option. What was the other thing?”

“Leofeva,” Ilduara said, “went to the archivist in Fritha’s temple to ask about something we’d heard from the Rosebridge midwife, who is also Fritha’s. The archivist knew what she was referring to immediately. There has been, in Eadwald, for at least eighty years, a set of laws that are not well known but they’re still valid. They allow two women or two men to make vows to each other that are equivalent in virtually all ways to marriage. They’re binding and involve the same obligations and property laws and so on. It was meant, during a time of great disruption, to allow households of two women and their children to support themselves without needing to rely on charity, and it was so successful it expanded.”

Radegunde actually clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, what wonderful laws! Allow people the tools they need to care for themselves and each other! I must look into that in more detail!”

“And this is relevant how?” Herlinde asked.

Ferrand took a deep breath. “If you’d be amenable to it... I would really rather marry Guillen than Ilduara. We’ve been... we’ve been together for a while now.”

Herlinde considered that, lips pursed, then glanced at Radegunde, and shrugged. “If we can verify these laws, then I can see no reason to object. The goal is not to make you miserable or be inflexible. The goal is simply to find a solution to a nagging perpetual annoyance that the king has not decided is quite important enough to send someone to fix—yet.”

Ilduara fumbled in her purse for the scrap of parchment Leofeva had given her. Radegunde took it and glanced at it. “Leofeva says these are the dates of the original law and the amendments. The archivist also told her that any temple in the city has sanctified these sorts of unions before and would be able to confirm it, but it started with Hrethe’s.”

“We’ll look into this,” Radegunde said. “But it’s unlikely we’ll have the information until tomorrow.”

“We’re not going anywhere, ma’am,” Guillen said, with a ghost of a smile. “Whether Ferrand marries me or my sister, we’ll be here.”

“And you?” Herlinde said to Aelfeva. “Are you hoping, if we do verify this, to have a second male pair?”

Aelfeva looked down. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I might just... I don’t... I’m sorry, I don’t know.”

Possibly Herlinde’s expression and tone weren’t entirely unsympathetic. “I cannot break a change recognized by any goddess, let alone Aelautha herself, and there are many reasons why, if I break this one in time for you to marry Josceran day after tomorrow, it cannot and will not be repeated. Whichever you are in Aelautha’s temple, you will be for life. You can tell me tomorrow whether you want me to break it—after we verify these laws. I am not allowing any loopholes. This nonsense with the bridge has gone on for an absurdly long time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ferrand said. “In some ways we’re actually grateful.”

“How so?” Radegunde asked curiously. “I’m familiar with arranged royal marriages, of course—I was married to Cuthred by proxy and met him for the first time already his wife. I’m interested to know how this is good for you.”

“In our case, ma’am,” Teoda said shyly, “Richold and I wanted to marry but Rich’s father was reluctant—he thought loving each other was a poor reason to want to marry, one that couldn’t last.”

“Our father sent my brother to a relative’s farm as a punishment,” Ferrand said, “and was in no mind to let either of us marry. He had to call Josceran home and allow us both to marry. And we didn’t even know that there was a way Guillen and I could get married. We thought the best we might be able to do is not marry—or marry someone willing to look the other way.”

“Please don’t ask Aelf,” Richold said. “She’s really confused right now. We’re trying to help but there’s not much we can do. But I wouldn’t bet anything that mattered to me on whether I’m going to have a brother or a second sister in two days’ time. Possibly even that is going to turn out positive in the end.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Radegunde said. “It’s so much better when everyone is happy. We’ll look into these laws—I may do it myself, I’d really like to see these! Tomorrow...”

“Tomorrow,” Herlinde said, “I’ll drop by in person, so you can give me that answer. Unless we discover a problem and this will not be a viable alternative, in which case I may simply send a messenger. I do have a great deal to do.”

Radegunde nodded. “I hope Aelautha blesses all your marriages and it all works out well for you. The carriage is waiting for you, to take you back to Redsmith Street. Be well.” She got up and retrieved her basket.

Herlinde gestured towards the gate they’d come in, which was clear enough as a command, before she followed her queen.

“We tried,” Guillen said softly, as the carriage driver clucked to the horses and they started moving again. “Now we wait.”

“And we think,”’ Aelfeva sighed.

Josceran wrapped an arm around her in a half-hug. “I know. I wish we could help.”

Actually, that was sort of comfortable and reassuring at once. She let herself lean against him, and his arm around her steadied her in place, back to the townhouses.