Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
“What is it?” I ask the head security adviser, tugging on the itchy collar of my formal tunic. I haven’t had a chance to change—after the marriage ceremony, Mayah’s handmaids whisked her away, while Jeyzar ushered me into the council chambers.
“I’ve heard whispers, sire,” Jeyzar starts, deep lines tightening around his mouth. “Opposition to the alliance with Tundrayn. The wounds of war are not so easily healed.”
My hand is raking through my hair before I realize it. “Anything specific?”
“No, sire. Just rumors. I’ll double the number of guards planned for the reception tonight.”
“Triple them.”
He nods, hastily jotting down notes.
The door creaks open, and a palace guard enters—Maynard or Mayzar, I can’t quite recall. Harmless, but always angling for a way into my good graces.
“Sire,” he greets, dropping into a low bow. His long black hair nearly grazes the floor. “I was looking for you. Many congratulations on your marriage. I wish you and the new princess many happy years together.”
My neck prickles.
This. Fucking. Liar.
The pinpricks recede, leaving crackling fury in their wake.
He doesn’t wish us happiness. Does he plan to harm Mayah? Is he the source of one of these rumors?
“Get back to your post,” I growl. Thunder rumbles in the distance.
He blanches, mouth dropping open. When I say nothing further, he bows again, then scurries from the room.
“Remove him from tonight’s rotation,” I snap, turning toward Jeyzar. “And from tomorrow onwards, he’ll patrol the capital. I don’t want him on palace grounds.”
The older man merely nods, face stoic, as he jots another note in his cramped scrawl.
I have my work cut out for me. Protecting Mayah from my father, brother, and my fucking people.
My boots thud on the shiny marble floor as I rush toward the grand hall.
The meeting with Jeyzar went on far longer than I’d planned, but there were so many factors to account for.
I barely had time to change into my reception tunic—the palace seamstress likely worked overnight sewing it, along with Mayah’s turquoise gown.
I turn the corner.
There she is—my wife.
And she’s alone. Where are her skiesdamned guards? Irritation billows inside me. Clearly, my threats of excruciating pain need to be repeated. Perhaps, demonstrated.
“You’re late,” she says, lips curved in a teasing grin.
My heart stutters.
“Sorry.” I match her smile. “I had some security matters to attend.” I cast an appreciative glance over her, lingering on her teardrop necklace. “Though nothing as important as my wife.” My wife. I savor the words on my tongue, how right they feel.
Mayah flushes, and Skies help me, she’s exquisite. I’m about to tell her as much, when the door to the great hall opens, and a servant leans his head out. The boy appears relieved to see me, and promptly shuts the door to announce our entrance.
Without warning, the door flings open again. I offer Mayah my arm, and we enter. The servants did a fine job, considering they had less than twenty-four hours’ notice. White and purple flowers twine around the chandelier, and the marble floor gleams like glass.
I guide Mayah down the staircase, casting her a sideways glance. She’s tense, wide eyes flicking around the hall, though her shoulders remain straight and proud beneath the appraising gazes.
As soon as we reach the main floor, the nobles descend like ravenous vultures, offering platitudes and well wishes. I grit my teeth, steeling myself against the sharp jabs in my neck, though with all the chatter, I can’t determine who exactly is lying. Maybe all of them.
“The ceremony was lovely,” one noblewoman says to Mayah. “King Varad has quite the challenge ahead with the Equinox Festival—this will be hard to top.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Zayrna! There will be no more planning for our king,” her companion exclaims, her cheeks as red as her lips. “He has a daughter now. Princess Mayah will be the one planning all our celebrations.”
The first woman eyes Mayah skeptically. “Do you throw balls in Tundrayn?” she asks, nose scrunched with barely concealed disdain. I have the intense urge to trip her. A scathing remark lingers on my tongue, but my wife beats me to it.
Mayah fixes a wide smile to her face, perfect yet so different from the soft, real ones I’ve been gifted. “You mean snowballs? We throw those every day! My aim is impeccable.” A chuckle rumbles through my chest at their scandalized expressions. She’s magnificent.
Over Mayah’s head, I catch sight of a tall woman striding toward us, brow pinched and blond hair fluttering.
Fuck. It’s Lying Lyra. And she looks determined to ruin my marriage before it’s even begun.
“Excuse us,” I say to the women, gaze still fixed on the approaching problem. “It’s time for our dance.” I guide Mayah toward the center of the dance floor as the music shifts to a softer melody. Lying Lyra falters, face pinched with anger, then stalks away. I exhale a relieved breath.
But Mayah’s face is pale, brows drawn tight, as though I’ve asked her to face a lightning storm instead of a dance with me.
“Just like we practiced, wife.”
I bracket her waist and lift her, until her feet rest atop mine, arms wrapping around my neck. I hold her close as I sway to the music, my hands pressed over her lower back.
Court politics, vapid nobles, the incessant prickles—it all falls away.
It’s just me and her.
As it has been for weeks. As it should always be.
“I meant to tell you earlier,” I murmur. “Skies help me, you’re the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen.”
She narrows her pretty eyes at me. “You’re lying.”
I lean closer, my lips brushing her ear. “I would never. There’s nothing I hate more than a liar.” I trace the length of her spine, gently stroking the back of her neck, and a shiver courses through her. Our bodies are pressed flush together, her every breath in time with mine.
“Did you pick our outfits?” she asks quickly, fingers toying with the collar of my tunic. “I thought I’d be wearing the color of frozen mud.”
“Mmm.” I flash her a grin. “I might have had some input. Do you like them?” My fingers brush a stray curl from her face, lingering on her cheek. Gazing down at her, my heart brims with a dangerous emotion, desperate to flow over and drench her in the same aching passion that’s been plaguing me.
“I like the blue,” she says stiffly, tearing her gaze from mine.
Skies, I’ve upset her, but I don’t understand how.
“Mayah, what’s—” I start, but the song ends, and the loud thunder of applause swallows my words.
We walk toward my father’s table, but my gaze finds her again, concern brimming in my chest. The table overflows with platters of meat, roasted vegetables, and baskets of bread.
Mayah looks like she might vomit. Let’s get this formality out of the way and greet my father.
He stands when we reach him, but I can’t bear to look at his face. My jaw is tight—he’s the reason Mother isn’t here today. I dip my chin quickly, before guiding Mayah to a small round table reserved for the two of us.
“What’s wrong?” I ask once we’re seated.
She nods her head toward the banquet tables. “What happens to the leftovers?”
Shit. I didn’t even consider how she’d feel about the lavish dinner. I forget that Tundrayn suffers from scarcity. It’s one of the reasons Tormik proposed an alliance in the first place—for food.
My lips press into a grim line. “They’re thrown away.”
“In Tundrayn, nonwielding children often go to bed hungry,” she whispers. “It’s been worse lately. The Tides give less and less. Fishermen return with empty nets.”
A servant chooses this exact inopportune moment to set down the first course—steamed kale with chopped almonds. I don’t even have time to glare at him. Mayah stares at the plate as though it’s poison.
I reach out, grasping her chin and tilting her face toward me. “The first shipment of food I brought—it will have helped. And the second leaves any day now. Don’t starve yourself to make a point, Mayah. We have abundance here. I’ll make sure it reaches Tundrayn, too.”
A spark of warmth flickers in her gaze, there and gone. My wife nods slowly and takes a cautious bite.
Course after course arrives, and I make sure Mayah tries everything. Every dish is new to her, and her wonder at the different tastes and smells and textures is endearing.
Nobles greet us during the meal, nearly all of them lying through their teeth. A tall nobleman leans across our table, not even bothering to acknowledge Mayah. “Your union has already made waves, sire. It’s all the people can talk about—a new era of peace.”
My neck prickles before he’s even done speaking.
It’s all I can do not to throw something at him. “We’re absolutely thrilled to be the kingdom’s favorite conversation topic,” I manage to grit out.
He’s barely walked away when the aggressive clacking of boots approaches us. Even without his familiar footsteps, I’d recognize the manic thrum of his energy signature anywhere.
It’s Faramir.
And he’s wearing a bright turquoise tunic that matches Mayah’s gown perfectly—even better than mine. The asshole’s even styled his blond hair in Tundrayni braids. My hand tightens around my glass, a fast-burning rage crackling in my veins.
“Brother! Mayah! Many, many congratulations to you both,” Faramir exclaims with a wave of his hands.
I debate stabbing him with my dinner knife.
“Thank you,” I growl instead in an unparalleled display of restraint.
Faramir studies Mayah’s face, beady eyes trailing down her neck, before settling on her breasts. The tidesdamned asshole licks his lips.
I. Will. Kill. Him.
Thunder shatters the night. The air crackles as I rise, fists ready to pummel him. He’s dead. He’s fucking dead. He’s—
Mayah’s hand on my forearm freezes me in place. She raises her eyebrows at me expectantly, message clear in her sapphire eyes.
She doesn’t want me to engage.
With a stifled growl, I sit back down.
Faramir grins at me, shrewd eyes flicking between us. “Like my outfit, brother? I wanted to honor Mayah.” He lingers over her name, enjoying its taste on his tongue.
I exhale sharply through my nose, willing my breathing to slow. “Only you could make such a beautiful color look disgusting.”
“Only you would sleep with your brother’s betrothed.”
Despite my efforts, the thunder booms louder. Mayah flinches, and I grab her thigh beneath the table, squeezing gently.
“Stop bringing that up. Mayah is my wife.”
Faramir smirks. “Your display of power at the ceremony,” he drawls.
“It was disappointing, brother. I expected lightning bright enough to sear the skies all the way to Tundrayn. Thought you’d want to impress my sister-in-law.
” He flicks his gaze to Mayah, though still addresses me.
“Why the pitiful display? On your wedding day, no less.”
“Is there anything else, Faramir?” I grit out.
My half-brother falls silent, a disdainful grin frozen on his face. “No, I suppose not. We have all the time in the world to get to know each other.” The Skies have mercy on me because he walks away.
“Sorry,” I mutter, glancing at Mayah. “He’s an ass.”
“Has it always been this way between you two?” She tracks him across the room, teeth gnawing at her lower lip.
“Pretty much. Faramir has hated me since we were children.”
“Why?”
“He sees me as a threat to the crown—I’m the stronger wielder. He doesn’t believe that I don’t want the throne.”
“What do you want?” she murmurs. “Besides leaving the realm.”
My heart warms at her words—I’d made an offhand comment weeks ago that I’d wanted to leave the realm and visit Volca. And she remembered.
My grip tightens on her thigh.
“Right now? I want to ditch this party and show you something.” She’d love the view of the night sky from my favorite terrace. Perhaps she’ll let me kiss her again.
“We can’t leave our own reception,” she laughs, lacing our fingers together beneath the table. My heart stutters.
“We can, and we will.” I shoot her a conspiratorial smile. “Come on.”
Her hand is cool in mine as we cross the hall. At the center of the dance floor, a guard stops us and pulls me to the side.
“Sire,” he whispers. “Prince Faramir has ordered all the guards to leave. I-I couldn’t dissuade him.”
A deep, long-suffering sigh escapes me, and I glare at Faramir preening at his table like the pompous ass he is.
“I’ll be right back,” I murmur to Mayah before striding toward Faramir’s table.
Everything happens quickly after that.