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Saviero did not seem to care. “I think you can get around that impression by putting it in first person,” he was saying. “You, the Queen, thought it would be lovely to start your unexpected reign with your love at your side to offer his support at such a poignant time for the kingdom and in your family, etcetera.”

“Surely you must worry that this will emasculate you,” she said, because she couldn’t seem to help herself. Not that she could imagine anything making this man seem like less of anything. “Isn’t that the way this normally goes? Men never like it when a woman actually outranks them.”

“Your brother outranks me, and always has, and I like it fine,” Saviero replied easily, without the faintest shred of temper in his voice or anywhere on his absurdly chiseled face. “Why should it be any different if it’s you? I have no designs on a throne. I never have.”

“All I ask,” Cesca said, not sure where any of this was coming from, but feeling it like a bright, hot necessity, deep inside her, “is that if you begin to feel angry and tiny as men so often do, that you don’t embarrass me. Keep it private, please.”

And for a breathless stretch of what felt like forever, all she could see was the startled blue of his gaze.

“I think you’re misunderstanding the situation, Francesca,” Saviero said, and she forgot that they were in a horse-drawn carriage with the kingdom peering in. She felt as if they were all alone in the universe, without even stars to distract them.

The force of his gaze was that strong.

Or maybe it was the way he said her name, like it was a song only he knew how to sing.

“Misunderstanding the historically well-documented behavior of men in your position?” she asked, though it seemed to come from very far away. “I don’t think I am, I’m afraid.”

“I think you’re misunderstanding me,” Saviero corrected her, intently. And suddenly, Cesca would have sworn that it was hotter than the warmest day in summer, at least here in this carriage. “You already know that I’ve demonstrated my loyalty in a thousand ways, Your Majesty. That will not change. I stood on that altar and I made vows to you. You may not take those vows seriously, but I do. I have no intention of straying or betraying those vows in any way. It should already be perfectly clear to you that I take such things seriously.” His gaze took her breath away now, just as it had when he’d said those vows. “I vowed to honor you with my body and soul, forever. Not to put too fine a point on it, but you did the same.”

“It sounds like you believe the stories that people tell more than you want to admit,” she replied, though her voice was more of a whisper than it should have been. “When here I thought we were merely dispatching a duty, you and I.”

“Did you now.” He looked…amused, she realized then. Something seemed to snake through her, almost like a shiver. Perhaps some kind of premonition. “The way you kissed me on that altar says different. But we don’t need to worry about that now.”

She frowned. “What do you mean? Why would we worry—”

He nodded past her, and she realized that the carriage had come to a stop before the grand entrance to the palace. She hadn’t noticed.

“Your Majesty,” Saviero intoned, “my darling new wife, I am afraid we have a reception to attend, radiating deep joy and regal confidence at every turn.” There was a smile in his gaze, she thought, if not on that mouth of his. “Since you are so interested in telling stories, let’s work on that one.”

Cesca spent the first part of the reception fuming.

She hid it, of course. She was flanked not only by her own secretary, but by Saviero’s, too. The new Prince and her new consort stood beside her while their secretaries were the ones who took great care to whisper the names of the dignitaries who approached them in the receiving line, because this was not simply a party.

Nothing was simply anything now, nor ever would be again, she understood.

This was the beginning of her reign. She would be expected to maintain alliances and friendships with figureheads and actual political leaders in turn.

It started here, with the warmth of her greetings and the ease of her interactions that would be picked over and parsed for hints as to what sort of diplomacy she would practice and what kind of ruler she would become.

The genius of making her first public appearance as Queen at her wedding, where no one would dare question her too closely and any unwillingness to dive into politics could be explained by the supposedly personal nature of what they were here to celebrate, was not lost on her.

There was a banquet, so there were no speeches, because this was the state event. Though again, there was significantly more merriment than might have been expected at a typical state dinner, when politics infused everything.

Then, well into the afternoon, there was dancing.

Saviero bowed before her, took her hand, and led her to the dance floor to start the dancing, as was customary.

Then they danced. It was all very decorous. It was all very polite and well-mannered. It was nothing but a waltz, aimed toward the cameras. The lovely Royal Couple enjoying their first dance as husband and wife.

Yet Cesca was the one pressed against Saviero’s body. She was the one with her hand in his. And she alone could see the expression on his face and that fire in his eyes.

More to the point, she could feel it.

She was thinking about that, and that kiss in the Cathedral, and that thing he’d said about the little talking he did in the bedroom with his lovers, as the reception ended. She could think of little else as the two of them retreated up the grand stairs of the palace and paused there, another photo opportunity for the ages.

Cesca was thinking of all of those things as they walked down the wing that was entirely theirs now. As he led her into his side and through his rooms, fully aware that their staff was about and knew where they were going.

This part was all planned. It was meant to suggest that they were racing off from the reception to consummate their marriage while the party wound down below. In olden days, she was well aware, the guests would have followed them. Some ages had them stand outside the bedroom door, cheering on the proceedings within it. Other eras had a selection of cabinet members stationed within, to make certain.