Chapter Text
Yusuf sighed as the boat sailed into the Genoa port. His mother, standing beside him, rested her hand on his back. "I know, my son," she said. "If there was another way, I would take it. But after the destruction of our fleet, we had to sue for peace."
"I know, mother, and I always knew that I would marry for the good of Tunisia," Yusuf said obediently. Then he shrugged. "You know that I had hoped for a male Alpha, however."
"I did." At least his mother didn't try to tell him that it would all be well. He knew that marrying a woman Alpha could still result in children and that there were those who believed all Omegas would be satisfied with that. But Yusuf had his own opinions and desires, and when he had dreamed of his wedding night, it was of a male body pressed against his.
He waved his hand in a dismissive motion, trying to drive his thoughts away. "Remind me what my bride's name is again?"
"Veneranda," his mother said, rolling her eyes. "You really must remember it before you are introduced to her tomorrow."
"I know, I know," Yusuf said, laughing a little, bitterly. "I know."
His mother didn't give him meaningless platitudes. She just wrapped her arm around his shoulders and squeezed him tight. "I wish your father was here to see you," she said. "I know that your sister is a magnificent ruler, but I can't help but think of the things he would have taught her."
Unspoken was the some people's opinions that if his mother hadn't been acting as regent that they would have prevailed against Genoa. Even knowing that this was not the way most of the people of his homeland felt did not make him feel any better about the fact that with him married so far away that he was not going to be able to help her.
The sailors tied off the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock, and they watched as the representatives of the Genoan rulers approached and boarded. Yusuf took a deep breath, let it out, and then went to meet them. He would bring honor to Tunisia. It was what he'd been raised for, regardless of his feelings about the situation.
A handful of hours and a splitting headache later, he no longer thought so.
His mother had not once raised her voice, an achievement that Yusuf thought should be celebrated with song. "So let me get this straight. The princess Veneranda, who was betrothed to my Yusuf, decided that she was not going to do her duty, and instead fled, leaving a letter saying that she was marrying a man of her own choosing."
The expression on the King's face did make up for it, somewhat. He looked a lot like he'd been sucking on a lemon. "Yes, Queen Regent Basmah. That is exactly what has happened. We have been unable to locate my daughter, and even if we did, I am certain that whatever marriage she has made has been consummated. We will be unable to annul it."
"And your people will not accept a treaty without a marriage," she said, rubbing her temples as if her head hurt.
"Correct," and now the King looked as if he had smelled something very unpleasant. At the same time that he was still sucking on a lemon.
"And now your inability to control your household has become Tunisia's problem." The look on her face did not bode well for anyone who was in the path of her anger. Yusuf wanted to take a step away, but that would have reflected poorly on his upbringing, so he held fast. At least her fury was not being directed at him.
"We do have another option," the King's Seneschal, a tall, imposing woman, said, stepping forward. "There is Prince Nicolò."
The King met her eyes, and it was fascinating. Clearly, there was a battle of wills happening right in front of their eyes. "Andromache," the King growled. "You know that that was not his mother's wish."
As entertaining as this was, Yusuf was glad when his mother stepped forward. "I suggest that you and yours get this sorted. In the meantime, we have been at sea for ten days. Is there somewhere we can go to refresh ourselves and get some rest that isn't on a boat?"
He noticed that the Seneschal looked a bit satisfied. "Of course, Queen Regent." She lifted her hand and another woman stepped forward, this one shorter, of Eastern descent. "The Chatelaine Quynh will take you to your rooms. Someone will bring you dinner there, and we will meet you for breakfast, hopefully with a solution."
"That is acceptable," his mother said, bowing her head, and their party followed the Chatelaine out of the audience chamber. He stayed close behind his mother, alert to anything that was said or done around them. Given how important this marriage was being treated, he suspected that there were those who objected to the treaty. He was not going to wait and let someone try to take matters into their own hands.
"Forgive us for not having a solution ready before you got here," the Chatelaine said. "The princess's note was found yesterday and the guard was dispatched in the hopes of finding her before anything... irreversible had occurred. No one realized that your ship was going to dock today - we thought we had more time."
"I understand completely," his mother said. She smiled quickly. "It's not that we're not sympathetic to the princess's desire to live life on her own terms, you understand. But when one is royal, your life is not your own."
Quynh just smiled and nodded. The suite she showed them to was more than acceptable, with separate rooms for Yusuf and his mother. She told them that lodging for the rest of their party would be placed on the floor below, and left, closing the door behind her.
His mother sank into the chair with a sigh, and Yusuf lowered himself to sit at her feet with a matching one. "While I wasn't happy about this marriage," he said, "I hope you know that running away never occurred to me."
"That's because you're a wonderful son," she said, tugging lightly at his hair. He leaned his head back to rest it against her knee and just focused on his breathing. He was sure that the Genoan king would come up with some sort of solution. It remained to be seen whether it was a solution he could live with.