54. FIFTY-FOUR
FIFTY-FOUR
Mina
Elena outdid herself. An oceanic theme has the potential to be cheesy, but the delicate blues transform the weathered woods into a calming atmosphere.
Elegantly crafted lights make the interior shine like a moonlit wave.
I can hardly believe this is the same large, overdecorated hall we met the Merchants’ Guild in.
All the ladies had a small hand in creating tonight’s festivities, but Elena’s taste touches every aspect. Tonight is her achievement, and I will make sure people know it by directing any compliments her way. We may not always see eye to eye, but Elena is brilliant at what she does agree to do.
Darius and I pick our way to the center of the room, nodding our greetings. Once positioned, a wide circle opens around us. People crowd to the sides of the room, transforming the space into a dance floor.
Our palms meet as he snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him. An immodest distance for a dance partner in Veloria, but an emperor’s allowed to bend the rules for his wife.
Strings pluck out the tempo as we glide across the floor, sunlight and shadow circling one another in harmony. With a gentle smile, I scan the crowd at every pivot, mapping out the battlefield.
We take stock of who’s in attendance, the turnout bringing most of Coryntha.
A thrill of satisfaction races through me when I notice many of the gowns tonight feature silk.
The merchants I met and their families litter the main hall, while others fill every available space from the back patio doors to the ocean itself.
The addition of the beach was necessary indeed, and several small structures are set up in case of rain.
If not for Darius’s confidence in the security protocols, the sheer size of the event would drown me in worries. Zala’s shadows could be anywhere, lying in wait behind the sparkling candlelight. The warm glow adds a sinister air to the shadows, but I trust that they hold only our people.
I can’t see Alexi, but I feel his hawk eyes on our every step. His presence is a balm on my nerves.
Still, with all these measures in place, I can’t shake a sense of foreboding. Darius is calm as always, yet I sense his awareness as clearly as my own. Hypervigilance or foreshadowing? I pray for the former.
The cellos hold a chilling chord, bringing the song to an end. Darius dips me so low my hair skims the floor. Applause breaks out as the room rights itself and others move to take our place on the dance floor.
“You were wonderful, Queen Mina,” Elena says as she tries to hand us both a tall glass of bubbling liquid.
“None for me, thank you. I don’t want to punish my stomach too soon after being ill.”
Darius accepts his glass but doesn’t drink. “We’ll have to enjoy it for her.”
“You’ve outdone yourself, Elena, truly. This place is magnificent.”
Darius echoes the praise, and she blushes under his assessment. She raises her drink with a small curtsy. “Thank you. I’ll let the others know to only bring you water tonight, Queen Mina. If you need anything else, let me know.”
“Thank you, but I should be fine. Go enjoy yourself with the others.”
I nod toward Victoria. The lush in question is rosy-cheeked, but not from alcohol. She’s in an animated conversation with Davido near the refreshments table. Whatever she says sours her brother’s smile, and he storms off. Victoria grabs a piece of fruit and pops it in her mouth triumphantly.
I bite back a laugh and make a mental note to ask her about it later.
Elena curtsies and cuts through the crowd. An older couple steps into her place, offering congratulations on our marriage and well wishes for Darius’s birthday, even though it’s technically not until tomorrow.
My smile stiffens as slicked-back salt-and-pepper hair comes into view. Lord Barista appears with the other councilors. “Queen Mina, it is heartwarming to see you doing so well. You gave us all a fright.”
By fright, he means hope that I would succumb to my illness so their choices could be placed back in line for queen.
“The symptoms were exaggerated, I’m afraid. I had a small stomach ailment, but it’s more than passed.”
“She is the picture of health now,” Darius adds.
Lord Barista raises his glass. “A toast to continued health.”
He notices my empty hands just as Jaime appears, sliding a tall glass in one without missing a beat. I flash her a grateful smile and join the toast.
Lord Barista’s eyes are bright as he assesses my water. I suppress a shiver as he turns them on me. He looks like a hunting dog who caught a scent. Nothing that makes him that happy is a good thing. I expect him to say more, but the group simply offers their congratulations and moves on.
Darius and I socialize as the full moon rises in the sky, casting even more light into the sparkling hall.
We hold our own conversations, but never stray more than a guard’s length from one another.
Another contingency. Create managed openings but be close enough to react.
Despite the swell of upbeat music and smiling faces, I don’t let myself forget the danger.
A fisherman and his wife finish their story about falling in love from rival fishing families. I half listen, interjecting encouraging words at appropriate times, all while studying the people around my husband.
Every person who comes in contact with him shifts nervously. They give Darius a respectable berth as if they fear nearness alone might cost them a limb. His rigid yet graceful posture does little to ease the notion.
“I can only hope our love is half as full as yours,” I reply, bringing my attention back to the couple in front of me.
They note my split gaze and smile at each other knowingly. “Many blessings on your family, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you.”
Before anyone can take their place, I cut through the crowd and snake my arm around Darius’s bicep. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m afraid we are long overdue for our next dance.”
“If the queen wishes for another dance, then a dance she’ll get. We’ll continue this later,” he tells the men standing in front of him without sparing a second glance.
Instead of guiding me to the dance floor, Darius leads me through the open glass doors and toward the beach. Rows of guards eye our descent to the wooden planks that are set up along the stretch of sand.
Where the music inside is methodical and classic, the musicians down here opt for a more jovial tune with flutes and lutes carving out a quick beat. The energy shift is palpable until Darius and I make our way to the center. Dancers falter a step at our presence.
These types of dances are much more my speed. They remind me of the group dances back home—loud, fast, and full of life. I signal for the musicians to keep going, doubt tripping their nimble fingers for only a moment before they head into the next song.
Keeping with the tempo, I grab Darius’s hand in the air. “Think you can keep up?”
He flashes a quick smirk before our feet take on a life of their own. Dances are supposed to be reconnaissance, a break from the idle chatter to assess our surroundings. The pace at which we trot in circles around the grainy boards leaves little room for that goal.
Faces blur as we pass under another couple’s arms. Darius spins me in several circles until my laughter breaks free. I have no control as he guides me around with expertise.
Of course he’s talented in all forms of dance. His graceful moves and cocky grin are enough to make me forget the others for a moment, to relinquish my worries. Surely fate can afford us that much.
When the song reaches its conclusion, dread creeps in. I have no desire to return to the stuffy politics inside. There are enough guards to keep an eye on everyone on the beach, and I spot two of our soldiers dancing right beside us. I wish we could stay a little longer.
I make a move to exit, but Darius locks an arm around my waist, bringing his lips to my ear.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
The music swells as the next song starts up. Darius spins me around. His black suit eats up the moonlight, making his eyes all the brighter with mischief. “My queen commanded we dance, but she hasn’t issued the command to stop yet.”
He’s giving me a choice. His desire to stay and play for another moment or two eviscerates my earlier dread. I’m not the only one enjoying this moment, despite the looming threats.
“Maybe in another song or two, she will.”
Assassins could be lurking in the shadows, and Darius and I are flirting. Maybe it’s wrong, but I melt into his embrace for another lap around the dance floor all the same. The logical part of me screams to slow down and notice my surroundings, that letting my guard down again will cost me dearly.
My heart has other plans though. It beats in time with the plucking of strings and stomping of feet. My head is light with laughter as we spin around. Darius dips me, bringing his lips to mine so quickly others miss it.
Waves add their own layer to the music as they lazily crash a few dozen feet past the makeshift floor. For a moment, it’s easy to pretend we are just lovers enjoying a balmy evening in the moonlight, stealing a moment for ourselves.
Anything but two rulers of an empire with targets on their backs.
For a moment, I am foolish enough to forget.
Darius winks, his hands wandering on the brink of impropriety. I have half a mind to drag him into the shadows and give in to the novelty of being anyone but us.
A lovely daydream. One that comes to a crashing halt when the first explosion rings out.