Kai had thought his welcoming party to be a grand affair. It had been a grand affair. The Eisalaan courtiers had attended dripping in finery, the ballroom had been transformed into an underwater fantasy, and although he’d left early in the night, he knew the Queen’s guests had danced and drank until sunrise.
This, apparently, had been just an intimate approximation of the Beira family’s usual, more extravagant ball. That same small ballroom opened out to two further chambers and a heated gallery overlooking the snow capped treetops of the forest. The silks and gold dust used to build the watery haven had been replaced by lights and mirrors, glass and ice, strung in shimmering garlands or chandeliers, with carved pillars that trapped the light and seemed to glow. The whole effect was rather like stepping into a hollow diamond.
But the décor wasn’t the biggest difference between Kai’s first Beira ball and tonight’s. Last time, the Queen had encouraged him to invite the members of his own court, and he’d fobbed her off, not yet ready to risk their safety with the monarchs he’d yet to fully assess. This time, the invitations had gone out directly to every noble home in the country. Everyone from Eda to the eight daughters of Thornland Manor would be there. Ceri would be here, at the Palace, undisguised and surrounded by the Queen’s Gard.
And Kai had made his peace with it.
Doran couldn’t step foot in the palace while he was under investigation. And even with one potential Heir out for his blood, he didn’t believe that Selma would allow Mareda’s campaign to fully take root – didn’t believe she intended for anyone but Adeline to inherit her throne, even if traditions had to be observed.
Even if Adeline wasn’t ready to hear it yet.
As if summoned by his very thought, the herald’s announcement rang Adeline’s name throughout the ballroom. Kai turned to the entrance, and there she was; a wish granted by Adhlas herself.
The bustle around him should have spun to a halt. The chatter should have dissolved into sighs and gasps at the sight of the Princess descending into their midst. At the very least, Kai was sure that if he’d been willing to look away, he would have seen many more eyes on Adeline, framed as she was between the marble banisters. She wore the Eisalaan colours, a white-blue skirt spilling like cool water from her waist, and soft white lace clinging to a gauzy bodice that tapered into thin ribbon at her bare shoulders. A delicate crown of silver and pale sapphire sat like a halo among her loose curls. He’d never seen her in a crown before; the rightness of it stole his breath and made his chest ache.
She caught his eye halfway down and grinned openly. Adhlas save him, but that smile seemed to tug at something in the very centre of his being, leading him forward until he found himself waiting at the last step, one arm held out for her.
Her smile stuttered, lips parting in surprise – but she reached out and laid her hand in the crook of his elbow.
“That’s a rather bold move,” she said quietly, as she stepped down beside him. Some of that smile still slipped into her voice, the words light and teasing. “Whatever will the court think, to see the Merrow King receiving an unmarried Princess of Eisalaan?”
Kai leaned down and kissed her cheek, then brushed his lips against her earlobe and murmured: “Whatever they’re thinking could not possibly compare to whatI’vebeen thinking.”
At the soft shudder of her breath, Kai suddenly wanted to bury his face in her neck and see how else he might make her gasp.
Time and place, he reminded himself.
Adeline had once told him there was a time and place for chivalry, and though she’d meant for him to drop the propriety, the truth was that, sometimes, it was a much needed reminder. He was a King, for Adhlas sake, a little decorum shouldn’t be so difficult to master. So, with effort, he took a step back and held her hand, then led her into the heart of the main ballroom.
Whispers brushed past them as they went, eyes lingering on their clasped hands then darting up to find their contented smiles. Eda hobbled over to kiss them both squarely on the forehead, pulling each of them down by the shoulders so she could reach.
“A beautiful couple,” she said, beaming.
Ceri was somewhat less gracious.
“I bloodyknewit! I knew it all along! This is how you decide to tell your own sister? Or rathernottell your own sister?”
Kai raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought you said you knew all along?”
Beside her, Os fished something from his pocket and pressed it into her hand with a loaded sigh. She took it between her fingers and brandished the gold coin at them.
“Koo, I knew before you did. This one,” she jerked her head at Os, “thought you werepolitical allies.”
Os shrugged, unabashed. “Kaisaidthey were allies.”
Ceri snorted.
“Now where’s Al? He owes me threepuint.”
“You took bets?” Kai half-growled, but Ceri was already moving.
Beside him, Adeline pressed her lips together in a bemused smirk.
“I want to hear what Al’s bet was,” she told Kai, then swiftly kissed his cheek and chased off after his sister.
He was dimly aware of the smile tugging at his lips as he watched her go, but at least he had the presence of mind not to touch his fingers to his cheek, still warm and tingling where Adeline had kissed him. He’d had his tongue in her mouth and her hands on his skin – imagined and planned much,muchmore – but this casual, intimate gesture spoke of something else. Something he’d never dared hope for, not from her.
He turned back to Os – and felt the smile slide away at the look on his cousin’s face.
