I turned and found Obsidian near the threshold of Tassarion and I’s lair, his eyes shining and wet. Had he... but it couldn’t be. Had the gargoyle been crying?
“Obi?” I whispered, calling him the pet name Tassarion used for him.
At the sound of the nickname, a tearsnakedits way down the gargoyle’s cheek.
“Long have we waited for a Roièssa.” His amber eyes blazed with a certainty that made my hearts stutter. “Proudare we that our Roièssa is you.”
Rot. Now it was my turn to fight tears. It wasn’t his first time referring to me as his queen. It was, however, the first time I was called by my title, and I actually wore it as if it was mine. Like asecond skin. I wasn’t just the Phantimèssa of Edenael anymore. I was the Roièssa of Mortevain Island.
I walked to Obsidian.
“Will you be my escort then, my friend?”
The leviathan of a gargoyle bowed low before rising again and taking my hands in his.
“It would be the honor of my life, Roièssa Nahomie.”
Saundeiah finished lacing my mask onto my face. I took Obsidian’s hand, and we started making our way to the ballroom. As we navigated the halls of the manor, the rushing sound of excitable voices warmed me. It had beencenturiessince the angels of Mortevain had been back to Everthorn Manor. I threw up a silent prayer to the Infinite that nothing would go wrong. This was my first attempt at bridging the divide between the islanders and their king. I could only hope it would work.
When we all reached the outside of the closed doors to the ballroom, my chest tightened. This was a monumental moment. Once I waltzed through those doors, I couldn’t go back. I’d only been thinking about the festivities and what that would mean for Tassarion. I’d completely forgotten that this would also be his chance to publicly announce that Mortevain now had a Roièssa, and that their new queen wasme.
I stumbled back from the doors. I could feel the beginnings of hyperventilation kicking in.
Obsidian gripped my hand and looked at me reassuringly.
“We do not deserve you, Nahomie. But we will be grateful to have you.”
He blinked bright, glowing eyes at me.
“Fear not, Roièssa. They will love you. Besides, it’s too late to run. We’ve already made up our minds. We are going to keep you.”
I snorted, covering my mouth to stifle a chortle. This Gargorètti was just like Tassarion.
How long ago was it when Tassarion said those same words to me when we first met?
I grabbed hold of my nerves and swallowed.
“You’re right. The time has come. Let’s go now before I become a Phantimèssa and take off.”
The Gargorètti behind me laughed.
I turned and found that every gargoyle in the manor was behind me, shoulders squared with pride. I didn’t know them all yet, but in the dawns to come I would remedy that. Few things in life could compare to what I felt seeing their joy in standing behind me like the protective guards they were. They were my shields. Friends. Family.
I smiled at our gargoyles. They all reverently bowed their heads to me.
I turned, squeezing Obsidian’s hand before releasing it.
With elegant strides, I made my way up the grand staircase.
As the gargoyles followed in tow, circled by the Nanmiess who were now trailed by the Esprit of the manor, the doors of the ballroom flung open on their own volition.
Immediately all voices in the ballroom fell silent. Audible gasps erupted across the ballroom when the angels, shifters, fae, and other attendants looked up and found my presence at the top of the stairs. I trembled before the scrutiny. The praise. The judgment of whether I was worth all this fuss.
I shook it off.
I didn’t care what any of these greedy leeches thought. I wasn’t here for any of them. Hadn’t gone to great lengths, stressing out the Nanmiess and Esprit to decorate this ballroom to absolute perfection all dawn, for any of them. I hadn’t gotten into this gloriously beautiful yet insufferably complex gown for them. All of this was foroneangel alone.
I scanned the ballroom hunting for eyes of steel. A face covered in a patchwork of stitches and scars that had become the visual of safety and home for me. It wasn’t long before the thread of our bond pointed me to his exact location. I was on the dais at the ballroom’s entrance. My wingmate floated on the dais opposite, his eyes piercing into me as if he’d been given a glimpse of Pasaille and he was frozen in wondrous awe.
