I doubted Cyrene sawmeas fun.
“And in another sense, you were also there,” she said. “You made sure of that when we wove the spell together.”
We reached the doors leading to the ballroom. Music and soft voices drifted through the gap, and the scent of bloodwine and candle wax hung in the air.
She glanced up at me. “Ready?”
“Never.”
Her smile deepened. “Good. Me neither.”
We entered to the announcement of our arrival and were greeted with a spattering of applause. As was expected, we made a slow circuit of the ballroom, offering greetings, accepting bows. The nobles performed their usual theater of compliments laced with barely disguised venom. My extended family had perfected that art ages ago.
“Your Majesty,” cooed Lady Isolde, whose smile could slice diamonds. “The witch queen graces us again.” Her gaze pinned Cyrene in place. “How fortunate that your delicate constitution allows you to attend, my dear.”
My wife dipped a graceful curtsy. “Your concern warms me, Lady Isolde. Though I do try to limit my fainting spells to once a week.”
A few nearby vampires choked on their drinks. I smiled.
Quandary yawned, showcasing an impressive set of fangs. He stretched dramatically on Cyrene’s shoulder and shot twin daggers of flames toward Isolde’s face. The vampire noblewoman jerked back, crying out.
“Do forgive my companion,” Cyrene said sweetly. “Quandary gets territorial around people he doesn’t trust.”
Isolde recovered fast, narrowing her gaze on the drake. “How charming.” Her attention returned to Cyrene. “I imagine joy magic must make everything feel intense. Fleeting, even.”
Cyrene’s smile faltered, though not enough for anyone else to see other than me. The faint tremor in her breath and the moment she blinked too long told its own story. Years of court training told me that if I didn’t intervene, she’d bleed for it later.
I slid an arm around her waist. “Joy endures, even if some of us have forgotten how to feel.”
Mine to protect. Mine to defend. The thought blazed through me with so much ferocity that I almost missed nearby nobles gasping. Let them see that there was no line I would not cross for my wife.
In vampire society, to publicly claim someone like this was the same thing as declaring they were essential. This meant that any slight against them would be answered personally by the one making the claim.
Lady Isolde’s face paled. She wasn’t only seeing her king defend a political alliance; she was witnessing a vampire royal allowing his heart to dictate his actions.
Cyrene’s hand came up to rest on mine where it curved around her waist, showing she accepted my claim even if she couldn’t understand what it meant.
Isolde lifted her goblet, retreating behind it.
“Dance with me?” I asked, leaning close to my bride.
“Shouldn’t we mingle some more?”
“I am mingling. With you.”
The orchestra struck the opening notes of a new song.
Cyrene gently settled Quandary on a perch I’d made sure was placed on the edge of the ballroom, close enough to the open balcony doors that her companion could fly outside if he wanted, yet close enough to come to her assistance if she needed him.
He extended one wing in my direction and met my gaze. I found approval there. A formal acknowledgment from one guardian to another. Witch companions chose their people carefully and bonded for life. They were notorious for their protectiveness and their ability to judge character. Quandary’s acceptance meant more than any treaty signature or court approval could.
Taking Cyrene’s hand, I led her onto the floor, feeling the attention of the court follow our every move.
When I took her hand, it trembled. Fear or awareness? I pretended not to notice, though the simple contact sent a pulse through me. When I drew her closer, I couldn’t resist closing my eyes and sucking in her warm, honey scent again.
She held herself stiffly as we started to sway to the music.
“Relax,” I said by her ear. “It’s only a dance.”
