“He was a great warrior and a fair leader.” Verin grimaced. “But not a very loving man—not to my mother or me. He wanted me to be strong above all else.”
“Does that equate to emotionless?” I lifted a brow.
Verin grunted.
“Ever think that perhaps he's the reason that you believe you love differently?”
Verin blinked. Grunted. Brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Perhaps. We are what we are raised to be.”
“Only to a point. We learn things and develop behaviors based on what we're taught, but that is not all weare. The fact that you have no harem and treat women with respect proves that.”
“I believe you called me a playa.” He shot me a smug smile.
“I was teasing. And I didn't say you were the kindest man I knew or the most romantic. Only that you respect women. That's evident in the way you treat your mother.”
Verin snorted. “My mother doesn't allow anyone to disrespect her, especially not me.”
“And she taught you that as well.” I tapped his nose. “You've seen some bad examples of behavior but you didn't choose to follow them. That says a lot about your character.”
Verin grunted again but it was a pleased sound.
“Your father wanted you to be strong but what does your mother want?”
Verin smiled softly. “For me to be happy.” He kissed me tenderly. “Her wish has finally come true.”
Chapter Nine
By the time we headed for the feast, I was even deeper in love with Verin. We had talked for hours up in that tower, learning all the little details that fleshed out a relationship. After diving so deeply into him, I couldn't even remember what it was like to love another man—something that should have scared the hell out of me. Instead, I was blissful. I strolled beside him, my arm wrapped around his, without a care in the undersea world.
Verin insisted that I wear a deep cerulean gown—high-waisted with trailing sleeves and a train. It was a color that represented both of us and the embroidery of dragons and music notes over the skirt made the message even clearer. He wore a velvet tunic in the same color with tiny music notes embroidered in gold around the neck and cuffs and a dragon head snarling at the bottom of the neckline. This was over his usual black leather pants and boots. He'd left off the cape again so that everyone could see the shining one traveling stone gleaming on his chest.
We were that couple I'd always secretly laughed at. Matching outfits? Come on. It was too much. But this love had become obsessive and obsessive love is never satisfied with less than too much; it wants more and more. I'd readily agreed to wear the gown because I wanted everyone to know that Verin and I were a couple and my consort diadem just wasn't cutting it. It had to be glaringly obvious that we were deeply in love. Crazy, savage, beautiful, untouchable love. And Verin felt the same way.
My head was quiet for the first time in years—no voices prattling on, telling me what to do. I was my own woman again and I rejoiced in this instead of wondering how it was possible or what it meant. It felt as if I'd been given a gift, and I wasn't about to look a gift horse—or gift seahorse—in the mouth. I was going to enjoy every peaceful, jubilant second.
A pair of double doors stood open before us, their arched doorway soaring high enough to allow a dragon through. Although, the Lóng were flexible in their dragon form, and I imagined they could maneuver through much tighter passages (wow, that sounded naughty). We stepped through the doorway and the sound of conversation softened into silence. People stopped what they were doing, got to their feet if they weren't already standing, and bowed deeply to their king. Oh, and they checked me out while they were at it.
I hadn't met the entire court—that would have been impossible with the way Verin and I had randomly roamed—and those courtiers who'd yet to meet me, boldly inspected their king's new consort. I noticed Meilen standing beside a man in silk robes; her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned when she spotted me. But I wouldn't let her bitterness ruin my evening. I looked past the members of Verin's court, dismissing their judgment, and focused on the room. Once I did, I couldn't look away.
The setup was pretty standard as far as royal dining halls went: a dais waited at the far end, with the high table set upon it while tables for the rest of the court lined the sides of the room. Gilded columns bordered the high table and ocean-blue silk draped the wall behind it, pulled back toward the columns like curtains. More golden columns stood along the side walls but neither they nor the tables lined up lengthwise before them, held my attention for long. Oh, everything was stunning—from the gold-veined marble floor to the pearl chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceiling. Engraved and painted metal panels depicting scenes of Asian landscapes adorned the stone walls and elaborate silver bowls served as centerpieces on each table. But the fish tanks were what really piqued my interest.
Why would fish tanks in an undersea palace seem odd to me? Well, they weren't installed in the walls or otherwise contained. Instead, they took up the spaces between the golden columns—even those on the royal dais—and only came to about hip-high. The height was probably the most distracting thing about them. Who puts a fish tank on the floor and leaves the top open like that? What if someone spilled their drink or dropped a plate in one? They were pretty though; each tank had a nice selection of fish, anemone-covered coral, crawling crustaceans, and the like. They imparted languid movement behind the bowing courtiers and added the gentle sound of bubbling water.
Verin took me up some steps to the top of the dais where his mother was waiting for us. She had stood as we approached and inclined her head respectfully to her son. Verin kissed her cheek, then helped her back into her throne. Next, he held out a chair—not a throne but not exactly a simple seat either—for me. Once we were seated, he took the throne between us—an aggressively masculine thing that loomed even larger than Savassa's. With a casual wave of Verin's hand, the courtiers returned to their conversations and seats.
Servants immediately hurried out of hidden doorways. They distributed drinks and platters of food—the first of each coming to the high table. There were all sorts of vegetable dishes but no protein. I assumed it was the first course. Dragons are not vegetarians.
“Don't worry, I've ordered some cooked fish for us,” Verin reassured me as he poured me a glass of wine.
“Why would I worry about that?”
Then I heard the splashing.
I looked up and out over the dragon court and felt my jaw drop. Men and women in beautiful robes used short, golden tridents and tongs to spear fish and collect crustaceans. The fresh seafood then went straight into dragon mouths. Delicate ladies chomped the heads of wriggling fish while elegant men tore off crab legs and ate them, shell and all. Sea urchins, oysters, and lobsters got pulled forth as well—all plopped onto plates to get cracked open with tiny mallets, their contents scooped out or simply poured down hungry gullets. And those beautiful silver centerpieces? They were receptacles for bones and shells. Glorified trash cans.
“Persephone's pink panties,” I whispered in horror.
Then a splash came from behind me. I glanced back just as Savassa made her selection from the royal fish tank. She pulled a silver fish forth and chomped happily upon it. No scraping off scales, no cleaning out guts, just straight from the water to her mouth. She put the twitching body down on her porcelain plate and daintily blotted her lips with a napkin.
