“A great night, Girion, my boy!” Reynard whispered, patting his hand with too much familiarity.
“It is, indeed. A wonderful night,” Girion said, looking past the cunning man and into the hall beyond the ballroom. There was only one guest left— Jocasta, stunning in silver and blue.
“It will be better still, Your Majesty, when I give my gift. A little token of magic,” Lady Renata announced in a voice that was high and reedy, yet carried through the entire room. “Warmth, for our icy host,” she caroled, clapping her hands.
Girion smothered a gasp as flames burst through the air, circling and vanishing without a trace of smoke, making the air temporarily warmer.
“Thank you,” he managed to grunt out as the room burst into noisy applause.
“There is so much more where that came from.” Renata smiled in a way that made him think of bones stripped of flesh, something too skeletal and unsettling in the look she gave him.
He far preferred Jocasta’s round cheeks, her wide smile, and the open, friendly sparkle in her eyes.
“It’s nice to see a mage in the palace, isn’t it?” Reynard murmured.
“You have no idea,” Girion agreed as Jocasta stepped forward. She waited, a silvery silhouette now outlined in the ballroom doorway.
“It’s very obvious that such a person would be the best choice for a Queen—if you want this kingdom to flourish, not wither,” Lady Renata said loudly enough that several nobles turned their heads.
“Miss Jocasta Waterman, Mage!”
Girion could not help the broad smile that spread across his face as Jocasta entered, and the Archduke’s entire family gasped and whirled like three wooden puppets on strings.
Jocasta moved through the crowd of surprised faces, smiling at the guests she’d already met. Wherever her gaze landed, spring flowers grew, pushing up through the cracks in the smooth stone floor, until there was a natural feeling of warmth and the scent of growing things in the ballroom, and people were gasping and pointing.
Girion met her several feet before his throne, something he had not done for any other guest, something he never did. People came to him. On the battlefield, in an emergency, he would lead his men and come to his people. In his palace, at his throne?Hewas the destination.
Jocasta is my kingdom’s destination. Caledon’s safe harbor.He bowed first, low, until his braid nearly touched the floor when it dangled over his shoulder. He could hear startled gasps and whispers, and an angry mew from Lady Renata.
Jocasta curtseyed lower still, either to show her greater respect or because she refused to be outdone. Either way made Girion smile, especially when he caught the faint wobble as herbalance tried to desert her. He quickly took her hand as she began to rise, ensuring she seemed steady and graceful to their assembled audience.
Vines shot up his arm, from hers, and the brief flash of anger he felt that she had used her magic on him quickly vanished when he saw her startled expression and the beads of sweat trailing down the sides of her face. This kind of magic... He didn’t even know how she was doing it, but a silvery evergreen twig appeared on his shoulder, mirroring the crest of Caledon on his other shoulder and across his chest.
Girion tossed a look over his shoulder, and the conductor, now of a much larger orchestra, immediately began to play a rollicking tune.
He slid his arm around her.
“We can’t dance to this, it’s too fast. We’re hopeless,” Jocasta whispered faintly.
“I’m going to keep your feet off the floor and just... circle around,” he whispered back, pulling her closer. “Everyone, welcome! Everyone dance!” It was hardly an orthodox way to begin a ball, but that was not unexpected of him. He had always run a little roughshod over protocol.
Jocasta sank against him, heavily. “Your foxy friends look stunned.”
“So does everyone else. Whispers are starting. People are dancing.”
“I’m going to get seasick if you keep bouncing us around like this,” Jocasta hissed.
“You call yourself a fisherwoman.”
“Just let me down. I shouldn’t have tried so hard to upstage Lady Renata.”
“You made it look easy.”
“It wasn’t, it was exhausting, but I feel better when I’m touching you.”
He swallowed hard and whirled them, as smoothly as possible, whirling them until they were against a wall, and then behind a huge tapestry that covered it.
“What’s this?” Jocasta whispered as they stood in a stone alcove with a door behind their backs.
