Chapter 13 #2
Lexi turned on the pedestal, faced the mirror, and stared so long without blinking that her eyes started to burn.
“Wow,” she said in a breathy whisper. An excited shiver rippled across her.
Even in her best little black dress, she had never looked so…
so…old Hollywood style glamorous. The off-the-shoulder, golden creation swirled around her, hugging her curves in all the right places and flaring out at the base to flow into her train.
The tight sleeves and bodice were a rich, shimmering combination of gold silk and lamé, but the skirt and train were embellished with gleaming onyx and glittering black jet bead stripes that mimicked the pattern of a tiger’s coat.
She and Aylryd were a matching set, a gloriously sparkly and, dare she say, impressive matching set.
Her hair was upswept and held in place with onyx and diamond-encrusted pins and combs, and Rill had used what looked like a watercolor palette to accentuate her eyes and lips. For the first time in her life, Lexi felt utterly beautiful.
“You’ve transformed me,” she told the maid and seamstresses. “Thank you all so much for this. It stokes my courage.”
The four of them accepted her thanks with a unified bow.
“May luck, fate, and destiny be with ye and protect ye, my lady.” Rill helped Lexi step down from the dressing pedestal. She bobbed her head and offered a reassuring smile. “We shall await ye here.”
“Thank you, Rill.” Lexi wouldn’t remind the maid of how badly things were sure to go.
There just wasn’t any sense in dwelling on it.
Best to get it over with and let the chips fall where they may.
Moving as gracefully as she could in the weighty gown, she did her best to replicate the catwalk moves she’d seen models do on the runway.
She almost laughed out loud. A model, she was not, but she could hold her head up high, throw her shoulders back, and walk with attitude. That, she could do.
Up ahead, a door opened, and Jeros stepped into the hallway.
Lexi halted, almost forgetting how to breathe because he was indeed breathtaking.
Black cutaway jacket with medals and insignias on his broad chest. His kilt was belted at his waist and pinned to one shoulder.
The weave molded itself around his powerful legs as he moved toward her.
Sword belted to his side. Pistol stuck into his belt.
He wore his raven hair loose, and it gave him the look of a man who dared anyone to cross him.
Highly polished boots rather than the usual shoes and ties of best Highland dress.
And then it came to her. Jeros looked like the fiercest Scottish pirate who had ever sailed the Realms’ seas.
“Ye are magnificent,” he said as he took her hand. “I canna believe ye are mine.”
His admiration bolstered her courage. She reached out and touched his cheek, reveling in the feel of his dark day’s worth of growth. He had once told her his parents hated it when he didn’t shave. It made her smile. “And I can’t believe you’re mine. By the way, I love it when you’re bristly.”
He grinned. “Aye, my own. Then bristly, I shall always be.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and turned them toward the atrium.
With Jeros on her right, Aylryd took his place on her left.
She was surrounded by her boys. Commander Darkcord fell in step behind them.
She found the heavy thump of his boots reassuring.
She had Aylryd to protect her. The commander would keep Jeros safe.
“How many will be in there?” She didn’t really want to know. She needed to know. All that forewarned forearmed stuff. “I am expecting a full house because of the servant gossip network. Am I right?”
Jeros’s heavy sigh didn’t make her feel any better. “Ye are correct, my own. I expect the receiving hall to be as full as can be.”
They descended an endless curve of marble steps and continued into another hallway.
Her dress seemed to get heavier, but Lexi maintained a perfect posture that would have made Mammaw proud.
She could use some of Mammaw’s piss and vinegar right now.
Whenever her grandmother walked into a room, no matter whose it was or how big the gathering was, she owned it and always made heads turn.
I am going to own it. If they don’t like me, it’s their loss. Not mine.
Jeros squeezed her arm as if he’d read her mind. “And here we are, my own.”
A pair of thin, silvery-haired servants dressed in royal blue and gold liveries opened the tall, ivory double doors that gleamed with gold accents and symbols Lexi didn’t understand.
A horn sounded, then a voice boomed, “His Royal Highness, Prince Jeros of the Seventh House, and his consort, Lady Lexington Elizabeth.”
“At least they got that part right,” Jeros said low enough so only Lexi could hear.
Aylryd split the air with a mighty roar that shook the crystal gemstones of the many chandeliers as they stepped into the room and proceeded down the aisle that cut through the center of the crowd.
“Breathe, my own,” Jeros said under his breath.
Lexi lifted her head higher and forced herself to take in air and breathe it out.
She could do this. She would do this. Jeros set the pace of their long walk that would end at the many-stepped dais where the king and queen awaited them on their thrones.
He kept their stride slow and steady, as if daring the Court to doubt him and his fated mate.
The crowd’s stares raked across her, making her ache to roll her shoulders to rid herself of the creepy-crawliness of their condemning scowls.
Aylryd padded along beside them, huffing and occasionally rumbling a disgruntled growl.
The tiger didn’t like this terrible game any more than she did.
After what seemed like forever, they reached the head of the room and stood before the monarchs.
Lexi couldn’t help but wonder if Jeros was adopted.
He looked nothing like either the king or the queen.
He was smolderingly sexy, handsome darkness.
They were icy, disdainful light. She supposed they were attractive in their own sort of way.
Both of them were tall and thin, but she found their features sharp and angular, as if the sculptor who had crafted them left their edges jagged and hard to convey an unforgiving rigidity that went to their souls.
“My son,” the king said, but it did not sound like an endearment. The monarch’s gaze slid to Lexi, and his eyes narrowed. “And the fated mate the prophecy foretold.”
Lexi curtsied low as Rill had told her to do, but then she realized Jeros had not bowed. Now, how would she know how long to hold this uncomfortable position? She took his tug on her arm as a signal that she could stand once more, so she straightened and jutted her chin higher.
The ice queen, as Lexi would forever think of her, rose from her seat and slowly approached with the aid of one of her courtiers, who steadied her by the hand.
The closer she drew to Lexi, the more her sneer of disgust deepened.
The woman looked as though she had just smelled the worst stink in all creation.
She halted in front of Lexi and reached out to take hold of her chin, but before she could do so, Jeros caught hold of her wrist and stopped her. The entire room gasped as one.
“Ye will not touch my dear one,” Jeros said. “She is not some bauble brought here for yer amusement.”
“Ye will unhand yer mother,” the queen said, “and remember yer place.”
“Ye will not touch my dear one,” Jeros repeated through clenched teeth while his knuckles whitened with his tightening grip of the queen’s wrist, “and my place does not have to be here. Ye ken that as well as I.”
“Nyna,” the king said from where he remained on the throne. “Enough.”
She yanked her arm free and tucked it to her chest, but her glare remained on Lexi.
A low, warning growl clicked deep in Aylryd’s throat as he leaned in close enough for Lexi to feel the heat of him through her gown. The Fae tiger did not like the queen. Lexi agreed. She didn’t like that woman either. She stood taller and glared back at her.
“Lower yer eyes, flawed mortal,” the monarch said, hatred dripping from her tone.
“No,” Lexi replied loud enough for all in the room to hear.
Jeros covered her hand with his. “She and I are one, Mother. Like it or not, someday, she will be queen.”
His mother snorted and turned so fast that the courtier supporting her nearly stumbled on the steps.
She marched back to her throne, but didn’t sit.
Instead, she remained standing with her back to them.
Another collective gasp went up from all those in the room.
Then, one by one, they all turned their backs and shunned them.
As far as Lexi could see, they didn’t have a single ally brave enough to remain facing them.
Only the king and Commander Wrekas had yet to turn their backs.
King Salfan slowly shook his head. “This is not how this should be,” he said to Jeros.
“Are ye not the king?” Jeros asked, his voice ringing out and echoing off the high ceiling. “Either accept my lady of the prophecy or choose Warlen or Ganan as yer heir.”
“Yer brothers are idiots.”
Lexi wet her lips, praying that the king would side with Jeros.
With the Fifth Kingdom threatening the Realm, they didn’t need this divisiveness within.
“As Margaret Wolfe Hungerford said, ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’.” Lexi slowly turned and glanced around at all the backs turned her way.
“Where some find this room glorious with all its extravagant finery and opulence, others prefer a cozy little place with a warm fire, fuzzy socks, and hot cocoa. Just because I don’t fit your definition of perfection doesn’t mean I am not perfect, just the way I am. ”
Sadness shimmered in the king’s icy blue eyes.
He looked weary. Spent. As if he were tired of fighting.
He slowly pushed himself up from his bejeweled chair and made a sweeping gesture at all in the room.
“So says the Realm. Therefore, so must I say. A king is only as powerful as the support of his subjects, especially with revolt at our doorstep.”
Jeros wrapped his arm around Lexi’s waist, and she was glad of it. The air swelled with an ominous heaviness of something even worse about to happen.
“I accept my banishment,” Jeros said, “but know this: my warriors, my armies stay with me. Sevenrest shall be my kingdom. Ye can battle the Fifth Kingdom on yer own.”
“We need yer elite guard,” the king said, his tone strained and bordering on panic. “Those ye have trained are the bulk of our protection.”
Lexi nervously chewed the inside of her cheek, doing her best not to fidget. She didn’t like this game. From the sound of it, no one would walk away a satisfied winner.
The queen spun around and pointed at Lexi, jabbing the air with a shaking finger. “Assassins! Rid us of this stain!”
“Darkcord!” Jeros drew his sword and shoved Lexi behind him. Commander Darkcord took a stance behind her, standing with his back to hers. Aylryd roared and reared up on his hind legs, unsheathing his claws and swiping at anyone or anything that came too close.
The room erupted into chaos, boiling with the shrieks and shouts of courtiers, servants, and the monarchs’ royal guard.
Lexi huddled against Jeros’s back, wishing she wasn’t trapped in silk and gemstones.
Not that she was a warrior, but if she were in her jeans and boots, she could at least land a few good kicks and punches.
Mammaw had fully supported her when she’d signed up for self-defense training, then later on, she’d taken martial arts classes, finding them as good a therapy as an analyst. She might not fight like a superhero, but she could fight.
“Kill her!” the queen shrieked again from behind the wall of her personal guard. “Without her, he will marry the Fifth Kingdom’s princess and save us all from war!”
“Lexi!” Jeros shouted without turning to face her. “Lexi!”
“I’m here. I’m fine.” She hugged closer and patted his shoulder. “Darkcord has my back, and Aylryd has my flank. What’s the plan?”
“Never forget that I love ye.”
“What?”
“I love ye!”
Then darkness crushed in all around her until she couldn’t breathe.