Chapter 9 #3
She stared at Lord Elek plainly, awaiting his response.
I could see her trying to hold back an amused laugh by biting her lower lip.
Lord Elek was not easily jarred, but he looked to me for approval or permission to express his distaste for such an offensive remark.
I nodded, and to ease the tension she’d carelessly caused, I added, “Such a beautiful flower. It has been a long, long time since I’ve seen one.
Perhaps they are more amenable to the temperate weather of Leto. ”
Her father twisted his hands nervously. “I’m so sorry, My King, my daughter—”
“—Our metalsmith is very talented. I have no doubt he can handle the detail of such a flower.”
We made it through the rest of Lord Elek’s list of items, which included signing the marriage declaration and familiarizing them with things such as the allowance they’d have access to should they require it.
The queen’s family would always be taken care of.
In more recent Seasons, though, many did not touch the money, seeing it as an offense to treat their daughter’s sacrifice as an exchange.
My, how the times had changed since the days of dowries.
Nonetheless, we always made it known that the option was there should hardships arise.
Nowadays, this tradition was more for the queen’s peace of mind in case she had been a contributor to her household.
Esiree shifted her stance frequently, and her hands began to fidget. That’s when I listened more closely, letting the music and revelry behind us fade out so I could hear with more clarity. Her stomach was rumbling. She was hungry.
“Lord Elek, is that all? I would like to see to it that my wife and her family may help themselves to their meals. It’s been a long day.”
After Elek concluded his duties, I led Esiree and her family to the festivities, showing her father and brother to their spot nearest the head table.
Ours was reserved for royalty and esteemed nobles, now including Es.
She hesitantly took the open seat at the center next to mine.
I strategically placed Mina to my left and Orin to Esiree’s right, which would give me some minimal assurance that Es would not be subjected to my insufferable sister any further.
Tonight, I wanted to make her feel as comfortable and confident as possible.
Plus, Mina would not take kindly to Esiree’s particular type of humor.
We certainly didn’t need any incidents on display.
I sat patiently by her side while she devoured her meal.
The occasional guests approached the table to give us their blessings for a long and peaceful reign.
After a few visits, she quickly got the hang of these sorts of interactions.
She would pause from her meal and extend her hand for a male to hold while they bowed, or she’d give them a nod of gratitude.
She was more of a natural than I’d expected.
But I reminded myself that she’d already proven herself a talented actress.
When she finally seemed satiated after two helpings of dessert, I said spiritedly, “I was once wisely told that it is best not to presume a Lady of Leto would like to dance. That being said, may I escort you to the floor for our first dance as husband and wife?”
“You may,” she replied and held out her hand expectedly.
With each twist and twirl across the floor, I positioned our bodies tightly together.
Memories of the brief time on my horse eclipsed my mind, and my senses easily became consumed by her utterly delightful smell.
Her scent wafted each time the long tendrils of her vivid red hair trailed our movements.
She was so intoxicating that sometimes I found myself actually needing to concentrate on my steps as I led us through the familiar paces and postures.
“Do you like to dance?” she asked with breathy exertion.
“I do. I think dancing is a language of its own.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her interest piqued.
I had never really shared this sentiment with anyone, and I’m not sure why I found myself once again being so candid with her. I truly could not understand it. I barely knew her, and I’d always told myself the Harvest was more about selecting a proper queen than a wife.
“One could think of the dancefloor as a blank page. A place where your movements become words. Are the steps fast, rigid, and sharp like anger, exemplifying frustration or fury? Are they slow, fluid, and sensuous, conveying longing or passion? Do you fight the lead or trust them? Almost every emotion can be conveyed in a dance. There is no hiding when you’re this close to someone. ”
I spun Es below my hand, and the audience continued their loud praise with each new trick she allowed me to demonstrate with her pliable body. Just as our dance concluded, she leaned in, her lips hovering unbearably close to mine.
“And what does our dance say?” she asked.
“It says, my brave little liar, that you’re hiding in plain sight.
” Her body stiffened. “I have all the time and patience in the world to unravel the mystery that is Esiree, Lady of Leto, and now Queen of Devana. And unravelling you is exactly what I intend on doing.” I leaned in and placed a kiss on her neck just below her ear, smiling when I felt goosebumps ripple across her skin.
Her mind may be a mystery yet, but her body was not enigmatic.