“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he said quietly, and his heart was once more in his eyes, fairly lifting her off her feet by the power of his gaze. “Thank you for being here.”
“Of course—” she said again, though she unaccountably felt like crying…something she couldn’t allow to happen, given the amount of mascara she’d layered onto her lashes. Nicki said something further up the stairs and Fran used the interruption to break away from Ari, lifting her skirts and hurrying as best she could to catch up with the other women. Who seriously got anything done wearing dresses like these? She was exhausted climbing a single flight.
At the top of the stairs a second welcoming party awaited—including Dimitri and Stefan. But while she wanted nothing more than to see Lauren and Nicki reunite with those two, she found herself planted in front of King Jasen and Queen Catherine.
“Francesca, I do believe you’ve quite stolen the show,” the queen said. She glanced to Jasen and scowled. “I told you we should have invited the media.”
“If you don’t think there aren’t long camera shots being taken this very instant, you’re very much mistaken.” Jasen’s chiding tone was soft, though, and he looked at his wife with indulgent affection. “Nothing happens outside of closed doors in Garronia that won’t get captured on some camera, somewhere. It’s the nature of the beast.”
Fran was about to move on, but it was Jasen who stopped her, not the queen. “I may not get a moment to thank you later, and so much more than a moment is needed,” he said, his voice deepening with emotion. “Thank you for what you did for Ari.”
Fran shook her head automatically, but she couldn’t bear to be given credit a moment longer for something she really didn’t do.
“Ari’s memory was right there on the surface, wanting to re-emerge,” she said. “That would have happened without me being there. He truly wanted to come back, to work—to take care of his family. That was the foremost concern on his mind, that he had to get back to protect you.”
Jasen’s own face creased into a soft smile. “The desire I’m sure was there—the doctors said as much. But the doctors, and there were plenty of them, didn’t help him take that first step. Didn’t give him the hand to hold while he made it. You did.”
The simple declaration was almost Fran’s undoing, but she was saved by the queen linking her arm with Jasen’s, the expression on her face shifting to one of adoration as she gazed at her husband. “I knew there was a reason why I married you,” Catherine said, and her good humor effectively broke the chokehold of emotion that had grabbed Fran’s throat.
The king laughed, Fran laughed, then she was past the two of them, sailing into the Visitors’ Palace.
Nicki greeted her on the other side of the door. “Isn’t this place fantastic?” she enthused, tugging Fran inside. “Every time I come here I can’t help but remember you and Emmaline walking through here like a couple of tourists, with no idea how much your lives were about to change.”
Fran laughed. “Well, I think I had some idea. Emmaline was clueless though—which made her face when Kristos appeared one of the best things I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“She’s not clueless anymore.” Lauren’s voice rang with pride as she strolled up to them. She nodded to the front of the room, where Emmaline stood in the center of a small knot of women, talking animatedly. “As soon as she realized that half of Garronia seems given over to charitable works, she’s been willing to lend her ear to everyone with a cause. She’s not even officially married yet and she’s volunteered for half the organizations in the city.”
“She has?” Fran frowned swiveling her head. “But isn’t she going back to school to finish her violin studies?”
Lauren shrugged. “Eventually. Northwestern was gracious enough to extend her deferment, given the publicity she’s already brought them. Nothing like royalty in America. We can’t get enough of it.”
A gruff voice interrupted them. “And do you regret that you chose not to fall in love with a prince, but a humble public servant?”
They turned, Fran’s breath catching at seeing Dimitri Korba dressed in his formal military uniform. The material stretched over his powerful body like a glove, a row of medals gleaming at his chest.
Lauren stepped toward him, linking her arm with his. The smile she sent his way was radiant. “Who said anything about falling in love?” she teased, and his expression darkened slightly, though it remained fiercely possessive.
“Perhaps I was mistaken,” he rumbled, and with the barest of nods, he steered her away into the crowds.
Nicki giggled. “I swear to God, I never thought I’d see Lauren look so happy to be carted off like that. She’s totally doomed.”
“And what about you?” Fran scanned the room until she spotted Stefan, standing with a cluster of expensively dressed men and women she’d never seen before. “Are you and Stefan going to continue to…I guess, date? Are you staying here?”
“He’s…” Nicki blushed, and Fran glanced at her more sharply. “He wants to get a villa. For me to stay in when I visit. And he’s talking about traveling with me, you know, when he can break away. But I think that’s crazy—it’s not like he’s ever not going to be needed here.”
Her expression softened as she watched him across the room. “And I couldn’t imagine not being with him, not anytime soon. So…well, so I think I’m going to take him up on the offer to let me couch surf here for a while. Because I’ve traveled a lot in the last few years.” She gave Fran a small smile. “I think maybe I’ll try staying put, see how I like it.”
“You should,” Fran said, reaching out to squeeze Nicki’s arm. Once again, her mascaraphobia was the only thing keeping her from brimming over with happy tears. “You should make his life hell for as long as you can. No one deserves it more.”
Nicki’s laughdrew Ari’s attention, and he reassured himself that she was still with Francesca, the two of them enjoying themselves as the last of the guests flowed in through the upper entry to the Visitors’ Palace ballroom. It was a perfect night for a dance in the solarium-style room, and musicians responded to the queen’s nod by striking up the first strains of music—a burst of interweaving violins.
He frowned, looking over at the collection. The violinists were exceptionally skilled, but he hadn’t remembered violins featuring so prominently in the musical selections for these events. Something else he’d need to follow up on. So much had changed in the last year.
Edeena strolled over to him as he paused to liberate a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing server. She already had her own glass, half drunk. “Sorry about Silas,” she said with a grimace. “He refuses to give up.”
Ari couldn’t wait any longer to have at least one question answered. “Both my father and Kristos mentioned a curse,” Ari said. “What’s that about?”
If Edeena was startled by his abrupt statement she didn’t show it—other than by draining the rest of her glass. Ari handed her his and she took it without hesitation.
