“Oh! Uh, yes, Your Majesty! Yes, please!”
“Then I hereby knight you and welcome you into the Royal King's Guard.” I laid the flat of the blade on one of Gleb's shoulders, then the other. “Rise, Sir Gleb Vladimirovich Semenov!”
The crowd cheered once more as Gleb got to his feet and high-fived Dmitry. It was probably the most casual knighting there had ever been, but also one of the most meaningful.
I handed the sword back to Sir Ivan and whispered, “You'll see to his training?”
“Yes, Sire.” Ivan grinned at me and sheathed his sword.
I was about to direct everyone inside to celebrate when a hush fell and the crowd parted in a wedge, moving from the back forward. A group of robed people stepped through the widening aisle—four men and four women, the women to the right and men on the left, with one of each in the lead. They wore robes of silver and white, the silver forming mystical designs in the weave, and the two in front wore silver circlets upon their brows. The man's circlet was a simple band that bore a teardrop sapphire at the center-front, but the woman's was more elaborate, with silver swirls that curled up to surround a brilliant-cut diamond.
“Dear Gods,” I whispered in awe and fell to my knees.
The Kaplans swung their heads, watching with wide eyes as every Larch went to their knees and bowed their heads as the group passed. The robed arrivals looked neither impressed by our reverence nor offended by the Kaplans' lack of it. They simply smiled, their serene gazes fixed upon me.
Halfway to me, I realized that the High Priestess was holding something. My stare lowered to the white gold crown in her hands and widened. The entire band was formed of wings, each set touching the one beside it, their ends lifted so that the tips formed points together. Each set of points held a diamond teardrop—a symbol of Air and Water united, the sacred marriage of Lachia and Balvoran. One pair of wings was larger than the others and nestled within them, right above the middle where they joined, sat another diamond drop the size of my thumb.
“Who are they?” Konstantin whispered as the procession stopped before me.
“The High Priest and Priestess of Balvoran and Lachia,” I said. “Unseen for . . .”
“For two hundred years,” the High Priest said. “We left rather than serve a false king, and we have remained in hiding ever since, waiting for a true king to rise.”
“Your father gave this unto our keeping after he made his escape.” The High Priestess lifted the crown. “We promised him to return with it, should he or any of his descendants reclaim the throne.”
“The Gods sent us a portent,” the High Priest continued, his words smoothly picking up where hers left off. “That the true King of the Larchs would rise to power this day.”
“Lachia and Balvoran have been with you through it all, Mikhail Alexeiovich Lebedev. They have guided and protected you.” The High Priestess set the crown upon my head. “And in their name, I crown you King of the Larchs.”
“Now rise, King Mikhail, and guide your people well!” the High Priest shouted over the echoing cacophony of joy.
Chapter Forty-Five
The party had been going on for hours, Kaplans and Larchs drinking and feasting on the food our chefs had prepared in haste. All were invited to the celebration, so we had to open not only the dining room but also the throne room, setting banquet tables along the walls. The Priests of Balvoran and Priestesses of Lachia were given special seats before the royal dais where they received a steady stream of people eager to pay their respects to the Gods and welcome the holy ones back.
Many Larchs wandered back and forth from the castle to the village of Lukavia (I wasn't the only one who had reclaimed my true name) despite the cold night, retrieving bottles of wine and delicacies that had been saved for a special night. Lanterns were lit, and the paths cleared with air magic to ease the way. But I saw none of this; I was too busy learning at lightning speed what it means to be a king.
I spent a lot of time thanking and assuring people, adding a few new nobles to my court, and generally trying to settle us all into this new life. But the most important part of my life had yet to be settled. So, when I was finally able to slip away, I did so with Konstantin. I didn't take him to the King's chambers, though they were technically mine now. I didn't want to be with him there. Nor did I take him to my quarters, which I felt was nearly equally besmirched. Instead, I led him outside to our icy nest.
Once the heater was going and we were seated atop the sleeping platform, I turned toward him, ready to launch into a speech that I'd been preparing all night in the back of my mind. But Kon grabbed me and stole my words with his lips, pinning me to his chest as if he'd never release me. I slid even closer, straddling his lap, and wrapped my body around his, all without breaking our kiss. Frantic hands pulled at clothing until we were writhing naked together, chilled skin warming fast.
“Kon,” I whispered as I kissed my way along his strong jaw. “When I thought you were dead, I wanted to just lie down and never get up again. I've never known such sorrow.”
He took my face in his hands. “But you didn't. You got up, and you fought, and I'm so fucking proud of you, swanling. You became the man I knew you were deep inside. You fought even when you thought all was lost.”
“I foughtbecauseI thought all was lost. I didn't care if I survived. It didn't matter without you.”
“I love that you love me like that, but it does matter. You are a king now, Mikhail. You can't allow love or the loss of it to cripple you.”
I went still. “Konstantin, you know I can't leave with you now.”
“Yes, swanling.” He eased back. “I know.”
“But I want you to stay.”
Kon looked away. With that single movement, my heart cringed.
“Kon?” I barely got his name out.
