“I’m this court’s king.”
“And I’m your queen, apparently.”
“Precisely why staring is permitted.”
She rolled her eyes, but the color in her cheeks deepened. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“I’m enduring it magnificently.”
Her laugh brightened the space around us. Even the oldest vampires leaned forward, drawn despite themselves. Her joy was infectious, even to those so old they thought they no longer cared.
We didn’t make it three dances before Lord Rathley intercepted us with a predatory smile. “Majesty. A delightful display. I never thought I’d see the day our king danced with someone as exquisitely beautiful as our queen.”
Cyrene inclined her head. “Careful, Lord Rathley. Compliments look foreign on you.”
Pride surged through me. This was the same fierce woman I’d known six years ago. Back then, she’d worn simple dresses instead of silk, and her hair had been caught in a practical braid rather than tonight’s elaborate style.
“Your king may intimidate me,” she added softly, “but you certainly don’t.”
His laugh came out too sharp. “Touché. Tell me, is it true your kind can sense emotion? If so, it must be overwhelming here.”
“Not as overwhelming as condescension,” she said sweetly.
I nearly applauded. Rathley blinked, trying to decide whether he should be offended or not. Before he could choose, I stepped between them.
Quandary appeared at Rathley’s feet, weaving between legs with exaggerated affection, leaving what I suspected were bits of scales across the man’s immaculate boots and pants.
“Your creature seems confused about who its master is,” Rathley said, struggling not to glare at the drake.
“Quandary knows exactly what he’s doing, don’t you, darling?” She stooped down to pet the creature’s spine.
The drake looked up at us before leaping into the air and soaring back to his perch, his tail held high.
“Lars,” I said. “Find someone else to pester. I believe the chandeliers are available.”
He bowed, his lips twitching. “Of course, sire.”
When he drifted away, Cyrene exhaled. “Does everyone try to bait you?”
“Only when they’re bored.”
“And tonight?”
“They’re terrified. Boredom is their armor.”
She looked around the hall, taking in the glittering crowd and the careful smiles. “They think I’m temporary.”
“They’re wrong.”
Her gaze snapped to mine. “Are they?”
“Yes.”
I pressed a finger lightly against her wrist, feeling her pulse jump. “Don’t argue with your king, wife.”
Her lips parted in a soundless retort, but the musicians hit a triumphant chord, and the court’s attention swung back to us. Perfect timing. I swirled her around the room in another dance.
After the music ended, I guided her to the buffet table where a line of goblets waited. My advisors had arranged a toast as proof for the nobles, a public statement of unity between Cyrene and me. But as I lifted my glass, I saw how poised but pale she was, how she strained to smile. She’d endured enough of being on display for one night.
