A flush crept up Cyrene’s neck.
I caught the faint wrinkle of her nose, the uncertain twist of her lips. Disgust?
Aunt Madeline set her goblet down and leaned back with an exaggerated sigh. “So, is it true, nephew, that you and your bride share a room? Or is the alliance purely ceremonial?”
Prentiss smirked. “Hard to imagine our solemn king with a wife who smiles that much. How will he ever survive?”
“Quite easily,” I said. “As you can see, I’m adjusting.”
Cyrene nearly choked on her tea, and my relatives went quiet, their amusement dissolving faster than dew under direct sunlight.
I reached for my bride’s hand under the table, and her fingers twitched in surprise, but she didn’t pull away.
Her eyes darted to mine. “What are you?—”
Before she could finish, instinct took over. My advisor’s words echoed in my mind, reminding me they needed proof our marriage was real.
I brought her wrist to my lips, my fangs lengthening.
Her pulse hammered beneath my fingers, wild and alive. I could almost believe we were back at the festival, where I’d held her hand beneath the stars and promised her things I hadn’t known I couldn’t keep.
Cyrene frowned. “Kieran, wait—” She yanked her hand away.
Gasps rang out across the table.
The advisors wanted proof. What they’d gotten was proof that I could still ruin a perfectly good moment in under ten seconds.
So much for restraint. I’d spent years perfecting it, and one witch with the scent of honey on her skin had undone me before breakfast.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CYRENE
Iyanked my hand back, the movement so sudden that my napkin slid from my lap to the floor. Heat rushed to my cheeks. Gasps shot through the room, every vampire gaping our way. Goblets paused mid-air, and I felt like the entire dining hall was judging my clumsiness. The clatter of my fork against fine china echoed in the big space.
In the silence that followed, I could practically hear my standing as the new queen crumbling like a stale cookie. Even the servants along the walls stiffened, their perfectly composed faces showing the barest flicker of surprise before smoothing back into neutrality.
Wonderful. My first public appearance, and I’d already caused a scene that would probably becomecastle gossip before lunchtime. Kieran’s stern advisors exchanged meaningful glances that said everything their tight-lipped mouths didn’t. The silver-haired one, Lord Brightworthy, if I remembered correctly from the reception, shook his head. Lady Aragorn narrowed her eyes until they were slits in her porcelain face.
I might as well have announced I was completely unfit to be queen with a banner and trumpets. If that’s what they already thought, I’d just confirmed it beyond a shadow of a doubt.
My magic, usually eager to bubble like sourdough mix in a jar, sank quietly as if it knew I needed to keep a low profile. I willed it to behave. Well, behave until breakfast was over.
Kieran leaned close, his cool breath fanning my face, carrying the scent of winter forests. “There’s a feeding requirement in our marriage contract.” He kept his voice low enough that only I could hear, though in a room full of vampires with supernatural hearing, privacy was probably an illusion. “Did you not read section seven, paragraph three?”
My stomach dropped like a stone in a well. “I…might have skimmed that part.”
A hint of exasperation crossed his face, softening the severe lines around his mouth. “It’s traditional for vampire royal marriages. I need to feed from you regularly, at least once a day. Nothing excessive. Only enough to satisfy tradition and formalize our bond.”
Well, this was mortifying. I fought the urge to sink under the table and hide among the polished shoes. I remembered Grandmother handing me a stack ofpapers. I’d scrawled my signature at the bottom while I tried to pretend I wasn’t being forced to marry anyone.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. This was what came of agreeing to marry a vampire king.
“I won’t take much.” Kieran’s gaze held mine with surprising gentleness that reminded me, unwillingly, of the man I’d fallen for at the festival. “It won’t hurt.”
It hadn’t at the wedding ceremony. Tingling warmth had spiraled through me like sparks from a fire, awakening something in my blood I hadn’t known existed. Nothing like the terrifying experience I’d imagined vampire bites to be from the stories my sisters and I used to whisper to each other as children.
Around the table, the court watched me with naked curiosity. Several vampires had blood smeared across their lips, the crimson stark against their pale skin. An older gentleman in emerald velvet hadn’t bothered with delicacy at all. His entire chin glistened wetly in the light.
