Chapter 30
THIRTY
Aleksander
I’d witnessed more than my share of elaborate royal ceremonies throughout my life, but none had made my heart pound quite like this one.
Nova stood upon the raised platform at one end of the grand hall, bathed in the light of a hundred candles from both the ornate silver sconces lining the marble walls and the glittering crystal chandeliers dangling above.
A crowd of at least two-hundred looked on as she faced Lord Carrick Brennan, the man who served as ruler of the royal city of Tarnath, and as Master of Ceremonies for occasions such as this.
Her brother, Eamon, and Thalia stood off to one side, while several foreign dignitaries stood as witnesses on the other.
I kept watch from the bottom of the steps that led up to the platform, Phantom sitting at my side, his body tense.
I never ceased scanning the crowd for threats, my magic humming beneath my skin in constant readiness.
But I kept finding my gaze drawn back to Nova.
To the regal silhouette she cut in that midnight gown.
The way she held her head high despite the weight of what was to come.
The fierce determination burning in her bright eyes.
She took my breath away every time.
Focus, I told myself. Keep her safe first. Admire her later.
The ceremony pressed on and on.
Zayn caught my attention from his position near the eastern entrance, his hand resting casually on his sword hilt, though his expression was anything but casual as he gave me a barely perceptible nod—all clear, for now.
I returned the nod, then let my attention drift once more across the faces in the crowd, studying them.
The nobles who had crawled out of hiding now that there was a throne worth groveling toward.
The commoners who were in awe of the queen rising before them, especially since she’d taken the time to personally invite many of them to this event.
The red-faced men and women from all ranks who were mostly here to enjoy the celebration, politics be damned…
Most looked harmless enough.
I hadn’t spotted any obvious Order members—yet.
But that didn’t mean they weren’t here.
Lord Brennan’s voice resonated through the room, ancient words in an old tongue that I imagined spoke of duty and sacrifice, of power and responsibility.
Nova’s expression remained serene, composed, though I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers curled slightly at her sides, wanting to anxiously twist into the layers of her dress. Subtle things that most of the room wouldn’t notice. I almost overlooked them myself.
She might have been terrified beneath the surface, but she was magnificent nonetheless.
Even her more vocal detractors—such as Lord Renvar—remained quiet and respectful as they watched.
I kept a close eye on both him and the Drynland King, Marius.
If the Order had truly infiltrated this kingdom’s politics, those two seemed like the sort they might have targeted.
They did nothing to arouse any suspicion for the moment, though. All was calm. Everything proceeded according to plan, and eventually, the ending of the ceremony arrived.
Bastian moved from his place at the edge of the platform, carrying the crown of Rivenholt.
For a reverent moment, Lord Brennan studied that crown—an elegant circlet of dark metal intertwined with silver—before he lifted it from its velvet cushion.
The room grew unnaturally still as he spoke his next words in the common tongue that transcended realms: “Do you accept the burden of this crown, and all that comes with it? Do you pledge to protect this realm and its people, to guide them through darkness and into dawn?”
“I do.” Nova’s voice rang out clear and strong.
I held my breath as the circlet was placed upon her head, watching the deep red stones in its center catch the light and shimmer like captured flames.
The room erupted in applause and cheers. Relief swept through me in a dizzying wave. We’d made it through the ceremony without incident, at least. No assassins leaping from the rafters. No poison in the ceremonial wine. No blades flying through the air.
Nova’s eyes found mine, and the smile she gave me was small but genuine, meant only for me. The tension eased slightly in my chest, even as I continued to scan for threats all around us.
The musicians struck up a waltz. Nova descended from the platform and moved into the adjoining ballroom alongside her brother, with whom she shared a quick dance. When it ended to warm applause, she turned and made her way toward me, parting the crowd as she came.
“I’ve been told the people expect plenty of dancing at these festivities,” she said, extending her hand. “If you’d do me the honors.”
I took her hand, bowing slightly. “Your Majesty.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled at the formal address. I felt her pulse quicken beneath my fingers as I led her toward the middle of the room, spinning her beneath the grandest of the chandeliers, watching her shine under the lights and being briefly, utterly struck dumb by the very sight of her.
As we began to dance, the crowd formed a curious circle around us, watching. Whispering. I wondered what they thought of the two of us together—what new, creative rumors about me and my magic were flying as of late. We certainly didn’t draw the same warm reception that she and her brother had.
But I didn’t care.
I’d promised to keep her safe, and I preferred to do it while keeping her within reaching distance. I would have danced with her all damn night if I could have gotten away with it.
“Still managing to breathe in this thing?” I asked, trailing a hand along the back of her dress.
“Barely.” She leaned slightly closer, lowering her voice. “Any signs of trouble?”
“Nothing yet. But the night is young.” I tried to keep my voice light.
As we swayed and spun to the music, I caught another glimpse of Zayn as he repositioned himself to maintain a clear line of sight.
Captain Voss stood near the main entrance of the ballroom, alertly scanning the crowd.
Soldiers were stationed at every exit, every window, every possible point of entry.
And still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we’d missed something.
“You’re tense,” Nova observed, her fingers tightening on my shoulder.
“So are you.”
“Well, I’d likely move with more grace if I wasn’t wearing a dress that weighs approximately fifty pounds, and heels that are slowly but surely killing me.”
I grinned. “My beautiful, formidable queen, finally vanquished by a pair of shoes, of all things.”
“Not how I thought I’d ultimately go, but here we are.”
“I have the utmost faith that you’ll pull through. Because you are an undeniable force of nature and majestic willpower.”
“Remind me of that when I collapse into an undignified heap later.”
The song was ending, and I knew other nobles would be clamoring for their chance to dance with the new queen. To curry favor, to make their petitions, to assess whether she was truly as powerful as the rumors claimed.
I spun her again before drawing her close—scandalously close, judging by the gasps and whispers that rippled through the crowd—and subtly lifting her toward me to take some of the pressure off her feet.
“Remember what I promised you earlier?” I murmured, ignoring the crowd and their continued whispers.
Color bloomed across her cheeks. “I’m counting on it.”
“Then survive the politics and the shoes for a few more hours, and—”
I stopped mid-sentence, going perfectly still as a cold sensation swept through me, like ice water splashing across exposed nerves. It wasn’t painful, exactly, but my magic still reacted, crawling to life beneath my skin.
“Aleks?” Nova’s concerned voice sounded oddly garbled, like I was hearing it from underwater.
I forced myself to resume dancing, to not cause a scene, but my attention was no longer on her.
I was focusing on my magic. On the way it had started to twist and writhe, to create that itching sensation that I had learned to hate.
To fear. I only just managed to keep the power contained, forcing it down by repeating the promise I’d made to Nova hours ago.
I’ll keep you safe.
I had to keep her safe, even if that meant putting distance between myself—my magic—and her.
“I need to go check on something,” I said quietly. “Stay here. Stay close to Zayn and the others.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure yet. But something’s not right.” I caught Zayn’s eye and jerked my head toward Nova—a silent command to watch over her. He straightened, immediately moving closer.
The song ended. I bowed to Nova, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles before handing her off to Zayn for the next dance. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Aleks, wait—”
But I was already moving, slipping through the crowd with practiced ease, ignoring anyone trying to catch my attention.
I crossed back through the grand hall and headed for the main palace before veering down a partially-hidden path that led to what had once been the former queen’s impressive rose garden.
Nova had intended to restore the area, but the project had understandably fallen by the wayside, given everything else demanding her attention.
Tonight, it had been roped off to prevent guests from wandering into it, as most of the fountains were dry and in need of repair, the paths between them unlit and slightly overgrown.
After making sure I was alone, I sank against the only garden wall not covered in ivy, leaning my head back against the cool brick and closing my eyes.
I breathed steadily in and out through my nose, trying to regain control, lifting my hands and studying them.
No magic escaped my control, but my veins were glowing, the light much darker than it should have been.
A shiver crawled down my spine.
I had a sudden, distinct feeling that I was being watched.