No longer am I a woman who cowers in fear or in despair. As Selene had once told me, those parts of my life are woven into me like the threads of a tapestry. Up close, the history of it all is tangled and ravaging—hard to let go of. But maybe that is the point. I am not meant to let those things go as if the hurts haven’t happened to me at all. I can choose to use them as a point of comparison, a way for me to see just how far I’ve come. How far I’ve grown and evolved andbloomed. When I step back and look at my life as a whole, at the tapestry that makes up who Rhea Maxwell is, I find that I quite like what I see now. Someone who is strong and determined and unafraid to love. Someone who is far from perfect but who is no longer letting life pass her by. I see someone I am proud to be.
So turning to Nox, his hand tightly holding mine, I reach up onto my toes and plant a kiss on his cheek before facing forward, my lips curving into a triumphant smile.
“Congratulations!” Elora shouts as she pulls me into a hug. I had heard the word over and over again as I passed the partygoers on my way to her.
When the herald announced our arrival, when he shouted our titles “His Highness, Prince Nox Daxel, and his betrothed, Lady Rhea Selene,” the gardens had erupted into nothing short of pandemonium. There were cheers and clapping, and though it all became a discordant ringing in my ear, I had looked around to find mostly happy smiles. Only when my gaze met a few of the council members’ did I remember that there would be an important few who werenotthrilled. They were apparently so distraught over the news that they called an emergency council meeting, pulling Nox and Sadryn back into the palace.
“Thank you, Elora. I’m sorry that we didn’t have the chance to tell you before everyone else found out.”
Elora snorts and waves her hand in front of her face. “As long as I get to be included when it’s time for you to start planning, then all is forgiven,” she jokes with a wink. Linking my arm with hers, she guides me around the ball where we have polite conversation with some of the patrons before we end up next to the refreshments table.
“This is not as daunting as I thought it might be,” I tell her, taking a bite of a small leaf-shaped cookie, the flavors of apple and cinnamon dancing along my tongue.
“Good. The engagement announcement certainly became an invitation to start a conversation with you.” Her eyes sparkle under the light of the spelled flames as she takes a sip of her drink. She wasn’t wrong. I lost count of how many people cooed or gasped at the sight of my ring. I didn’t mind it, however, feeling just as excited to show it off as they were to glimpse it. We finish our fare, and Elora begins to lead us to the dance floor.
“There are some gentlemen over there eyeing us as if they are in need of dance partners.” Tugging on my hand, she dragsme through the crowd, the strangers’ eyes meeting mine and offering warm smiles and dips of their chins. And then her words register, and I stumble over myself as I try to slow down her pace.
“I don’t know if I should dance with anyone else?”
“What? Why?” she shouts over her shoulder. “Don’t tell me the prince is so possessive over you that he won’t let you dance with another man!” Her eyes narrow as she looks around, presumably for Nox.
“No! It’s not that. I don’t know what the protocol is. Am Iallowedto?”
Elora stops a few feet short of the men whose eyes have grown wider and turns to face me. “Rhea, you are going to bequeenof the Mage Kingdom. More importantly, onlyyoudecide what you want to do. No one else. If you want to dance, dance. If you don’t, don’t. No one makes those decisions butyou. And if Nox doesn’t agree… Well, prince or not, he’ll get a piece of my mind.” I huff out a laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Elora reaches over and straightens my diadem before placing her hands on my shoulders. “Do you want to dance?”
“I do.”
“Then let’s dance.” We step in front of two men, both bowing before us and holding out their arms to lead us to the dance floor. The man I’m paired up with smiles warmly before placing a hand gently at my side, his touch like a ghost’s with how it almost hovers over me. His other hand clasps mine, eyes bouncing between my face and the sparkling crown that sits on my head. I hadn’t thought it possible, but he might be even more nervous than I am.
“I have to warn you. I’m not very good at this dance. I only learned it this week,” I confess.
That does earn me a chuckle, his stiff posture loosening slightly. “That’s alright. I always seem to forget the steps when it’s time for me to move.”
I laugh as the music from the band crescendos, the sound somehow floating in the air all around us. Whether it’s magic or just a testament to the band’s talent, the beat is easy to hear as we waltz across the makeshift dance floor set in the center of the garden. I learn that the man’s name is Ian and that he is a carpenter that lives in a small town on the outskirts of Galdr.
“I’m sad to say I haven’t explored much outside of the capital. I will have to remedy that.” While Galdr is beautiful and has everything one might need within a few short miles, there is still so much I haven’t seen. But time… I have so much of it now. At least until we ascend the throne. Swallowing, I force that thought away to deal with tomorrow and finish the waltz with Ian, who bows again once it’s over. Then a familiar face takes his place.
“May I have this dance?” Evren, the man who works at the tavern, asks as he extends a hand out to me. I nod, and we move into the same waltz as before.
“Are you having a good time?” I ask him, his curly blond hair bouncing with each step.
“I am. Congratulations on the engagement.” Our conversation turns into small talk, his eyes darting behind me for most of it. I follow to see what is snagging his attention and am surprised to find Elora dancing with Daje. She laughs at something he says before he twirls her. Looking back at Evren, my curious gaze catches his, and he clears his throat, twirling me as well.
“You should ask her to dance next,” I say, watching as his eyes move to Elora again.
A blush stains his fair skin as he lifts a shoulder. “We’ll see.”
We chat more about his work at the tavern, how his dream is to one day open his own, before the song ends and I all but push him towards Elora. Smiling, I watch as he extends his hand out to her after she and Daje part, a curl falling over his forehead that she reaches to brush out of the way with easy familiarity.
Walking to the edge of the dance floor, I search the crowd for a head of wavy black hair. I can feel him here, my magic like a magnet sensing its match somewhere within the revelry—those invisible strings pulling taut. As minutes pass and my search proves fruitless, I take a step towards the palace in hopes that perhaps Nox is with his parents near their dais, but I am halted when a man steps in front of me.
“Would you like to dance?” He extends a broad hand out towards me, his shaved dark blond hair glistening when the orbs of the spelled flames floating on a magical wind pass above us. They set the features of his face aglow, and I have to pinch my lips together to stop a gasp of surprise from escaping.Arin. My throat constricts as I cast my gaze out towards the palace again in search of Nox.
“I was actually—”
“Just one dance, My Lady,” he insists.
I stare at his proffered hand, my own growing clammy with unease. When Arin lifts a brow in question, I tentatively place my hand in his and let him guide me to the middle of the dance floor. A cold shiver breaks out over my skin when his fingers touch my side though he’s not doing anything different than any other dancer before him.
