"It's a vow of loyalty," he explains. "Everyone knows that if it ever comes down to it, you're the priority. Your life comes before theirs."
I feel the blood drain from my face as I squeeze his hand. I think my brain is only now truly grasping what I've gotten myself into.
Vasili appears before us too and, after congratulating Damien, turns to me. He kisses my hand, recites the same vow as the others, then adds, "Since we all protect your back, I hope you'll at least protect his."
"Vasili." Damien's voice rumbles like a threatening growl, but his right-hand man simply nods curtly and retreats.
"He's a good friend," I tell Damien, my voice perfectly neutral.
"Yes, but he doesn't need to speak to you like that."
I don't respond though I feel a wave of guilt prick at me from Vasili's words. These people have sworn their lives to protect me, and I'm only here for my own interests. Because I'm not naive. I understand Damien needs this image of a settled man for the Council's vote, but I'm the one gaining the most from this arrangement.
When we step into the ballroom, my gaze is captured by tables elegantly arranged along the edges of the room, decorated in shades of white and green, adorned with Franklin tea flowers.
A band plays discreetly in one corner, and I have to admit everything looks impeccable.
On each table gleams an arrangement with candles and gold ribbons, the tablecloths are pristine white, and every server is dressed flawlessly.
Cold marble makes contact with my heels and I feel a surge of power when all eyes turn toward us.
Damien takes my waist and guides me to the center of the ballroom. Suddenly, the opening notes of "Issues" by Julia Michaels fill the room.
"This is the song you chose for us?" I ask with laughter in my voice.
Only he could choose our first dance to be a song literally called "Issues." Though, looking back, it's a fitting choice considering we both have closets full of skeletons.
A genuine smile lights up his entire face.
"It's perfect for us. Because I know I have a lot of flaws, Roxanne, but if anyone can handle them, it's you," he whispers.
My heart lurches when I see all that vulnerability in his gaze.
"But my biggest issue is how much I need you," he murmurs, and his words raise goosebumps on my skin.
Because that's all I've ever been. A problem. No one has ever needed me. No one bothered to fight, to understand, to listen. Not until the man in front of me, who has something in his eyes I can't even define. Affection? Fascination?
So, before I can second-guess myself, I rise up and kiss him lightly on the cheek. He turns his head subtly so our lips are only millimeters apart.
"I knew you couldn't resist kissing me," he says, but my gaze is fixed on his dimples.
I know he's trying to make a joke so I won't retreat again, so I whisper something that makes his entire body go rigid.
"As insufferable as you are, and I'm sure this marriage will eat years off my life, you're the only one I would've agreed to this insanity with."
I refuse to look at him, but I feel his intense gaze on my skin, radiating heat.
Other couples join us on the dance floor. Roman with Luna, Maksim with Julia, and several of Damien's associates accompanied by their wives.
Everyone wears custom-tailored suits and jewelry I'm certain would make even a royal family feel inadequate, but perhaps most importantly, they all carry a cautious aura.
After the song ends, Damien leaves a kiss on my cheek and heads toward a gentleman at the opposite end of the ballroom.
I'm immediately swarmed by a group of ladies who, after the requisite congratulations, begin talking about their own events and how eager they are to invite me to their dinners.
Yeah, they can wait forever.
"Sorry, but I need to steal the bride for a few moments." Luna's voice cuts through, and I've never breathed easier.
