Borin rises, his gaze on my parah and utters the words spoken at every anointment since the tradition started. “May you rule with a pure heart, a just hand, a wise mind, and be the embodiment of the Statera’s immaculate balance, nephew.”
The rest of the room stands, even my brother, and together they say, “Blessed be, Kyron the prince of Lucent.”
I pull Kyron to his feet to stand beside me. He clasps his hands behind his back and wears the stoic look. It’s the same one that graces his handsomeface whenever he assumes leadership. It’s tough and unwelcoming, and not the best first impression when announced as the future king.
I lift to my toes and whisper in his ear, “It’s all right to smile.”
He spares me a quick glance from the corner of his eyes and one side of his mouth slightly turns up.
I snicker and shake my head. “We’ll keep working on it.”
Everyone settles and breakfast resumes.
I grip Kyron’s hand under the table as Lucent’s leaders bombarded with questions. Most of them know him from his time as our general. They understand that his military expertise is exceptional, but many have never taken the time to talk to him beyond that. I’m not blind to their uncertainty, but at least they are attempting to cure it.
Slowly but surely, the room clears, leaving those who are the closest to us.
Terro knocks back a glass of orange juice and champagne. His braids swing around his face as he slams his glass to the table. “Way to take it all, Ky. You got the girlandboth kingdoms. I’m hoping there are perks for friends of the future king.”
“You mean the entire bottle of champagne you just drank wasn’t a perk?” Greer asks, scooting another full bottle away from him.
“I was thinking about moving card night to somewhere with a little more… pizzazz.”
She scoffs, her green eyes boring into him. “What do you meanpizzazz?Have you seen my office?”
“Yeah, I have, and it looks like a cheap broth?—”
“So, I have a question.” Ansley, who has been uncharacteristically quiet since my speech, jumps in, halting the argument that was sure to follow. “Is there going to be a wedding?”
I open and close my mouth like a fish out of water, but Kyron has no problems answering her, saying, “When things calm down, there will be a wedding.” My head jerks in his direction, and a sly smile pulls on his lips. “Did you not want them to know that was the plan?”
“No. It’s not that. I just thought we would ease into that topic,” I say.
“I don’t think that’s necessary, Elle. Everyone here has been anticipating the moment you would make the announcement,” Leif says with a wink.
The entire table sounds in agreement.
The last thing I want to do is jump from one betrothal to another. It would be disgraceful in most circumstances, but our situation differs from most. He is my parah, the person the Statera deemed to be my perfect match. Decorum be damned, I like the idea of celebrating our love with everyone here.
The doors to the dining room burst open, and a warrior stalks into the room.
“Pardon my interruption, Your Grace,” he says, moving to the head of the table. The warrior bends at the waist and whispers to Kyron.
Kyron’s eyes grow wide as he listens. My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. I consider all the possibilities, each worse than the next—the Allaji are on their way here, another attack on Lucent, more death.
Kyron nods and the warrior exits the room.
“What is it?” I ask, eager to put my fear to rest.
Kyron lifts a cautious gaze to me and quietly says, “It appears my mother was returned unharmed with Zek. They’re waiting for us in the sanctuary.”
Twenty-Four
Kyron and I march to the sanctuary side by side with our family and friends behind us. We don’t exchange words, silently digesting what’s to come. The Allaji have strategically attacked us at every turn. They made their intentions clear at Kyron’s anointment and proved their strength at Basecamp. The shifters attacked Lucent, setting out to kill our king and did just that. I have to wonder what their purpose is in returning Esmeray because my gut tells me this isn’t right.
We make our way through the security tunnel and enter the holy place through the back hall. The rhythmic tap of our footsteps echoes around us as we pass the meditation rooms. This area of the sanctuary was designed for all to come and find a moment of peace. Yet the closer we get to the main room, the more my stomach rolls in protest. Every instinct is screaming at me to grab Kyron’s hand and pull him back the way we came. I push past my unease and step a little closer to my parah, hoping that an ounce of his bravery will rub off on me.
Kyron glances down and reassuringly nods at me. It’s an insignificant gesture, but it fills me with more confidence. If he believes all will end well, then so will I.
