Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
KIERAN
Two days had passed since Cyrene and I tamed her magic. Days since my advisors repeated their ultimatum. Days of whispered theories, of servants peeking into corridors hoping to catch a glimpse of their “bewitched king.” Two nights of pretending I didn’t notice how much I enjoyed every rumor.
My court had always preferred darkness, from jewel tones to shadows, to the safety of the night. Tonight, light spilled through the room instead. This was Cyrene’s doing. Glowing crystals drifted near the ceiling, bumping into the chandeliers like fireflies.
Hundreds of candles floated above the polished marble, their flames mirrored in the black glass floor. The scent of bloodwine and enchanted lilies filled the air. Musicians tuned their instruments near the dais, and every noble in the realm was determined to be seen.
I stood at the top of the staircase, dressed to entertain, though in a burgundy tunic adorned with silver etching, something unlike anything I’d worn before.
I’d found I didn’t enjoy wearing black, so I would no longer do it.
Since I was late with my advisors, I’d missed seeing Cyrene before she got ready. When I arrived at my suite, my staff told me she’d already left and that she’d planned to wait for me in the foyer.
And there she was, standing in the middle of the big open area like the crown jewel of my kingdom.
Waiting for me.
She’d adorned her hair with tiny crystals that winked like stars, and someone had woven golden threads through the elaborate braids crowning her head. The effect was ethereal, as though she’d captured the dawn and fashioned it into a crown more true than any metal could ever be.
Her white gown hugged her curves before flowing outward like liquid light, and when she shifted, I caught glimpses of embroidered vines climbing from the hem to the bodice, small, intricate witch symbols hidden in the pattern.
A queen’s dress, but with rebellion stitched into its fabric. Perfectly, gloriously Cyrene.
My chest ached at the sight of her. She’d brought color back into my world, painting over my careful control with broad strokes of gold and light.
She smiled at the staff hovering near, but when she glanced toward a few of my family members lingering near the wall, I didn’t miss the tightness at the corners of her mouth.
Quandary, draped across her shoulder like a living stole, wore a miniature bow tie created from white ribbon. He surveyed the room with the disdain of a seasoned courtier, his tail flicking and smoke curling from his nostrils whenever someone ventured too close.
I descended the steps. Vampires rarely blink, yet somehow the entire room did when I stopped at the bottom and took her hand.
“You’re late,” she said, her lips curved but her eyes sharp.
“I had to make sure the rumors had matured before I arrived,” I said. “Wouldn’t want to interrupt their fermentation.”
Just being near her made my fangs ache. Leaning close, I sucked in her heady scent. It had been centuries since a vampire king had been caught scenting his mate in public, and I didn’t give a damn.
I nibbled along her neck to her collarbone, tickling her skin, making her laugh.
Her eyebrows lifted, but she didn’t pull away. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m a king. Trust me, it’s worse.”
I brought her fingers to my lips, aware of the collective inhalation from the crowd. Her pulse fluttered beneath my thumb. “Shall we attend the ball, my queen?”
She gave me a regal nod, but her fingers tightened around mine as we turned toward the hall.
We left the foyer, walking toward the first-floor ballroom, and I slowed my stride to match hers.
“How has your magic been over the past few days?” I asked quietly. “And I apologize for being busy with duties and unable to visit your tower room to ask.”
Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “Better. Mostly. The spell we crafted is holding, though I still get the occasional hiccup.” She grimaced. “Yesterday, I tried to enchant a rose to open. It sang instead. Off-key.”
I bit back a laugh. “A dangerous weapon.”
“Don’t mock me, you.” A tease rang out in her voice.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I brushed my fingertip along the back of her hand. “I should’ve been there to help.”
Her gaze flicked up to mine. “You’ve had kingdoms to rule and treaties to sign. I’ve managed.”
“That doesn’t mean I wanted to leave you alone.”
“I wasn’t alone. Quandary was there, as well as Cordelia.”
“Our ghost.” Who I now wished I could see as well.
“She’s quite flamboyant. Fun.” Her lips curved up at a memory I wanted to share.
I doubted Cyrene saw me as fun.
“And in another sense, you were also there,” she said. “You made sure of that when we wove the spell together.”
We reached the doors leading to the ballroom. Music and soft voices drifted through the gap, and the scent of bloodwine and candle wax hung in the air.
She glanced up at me. “Ready?”
“Never.”
Her smile deepened. “Good. Me neither.”
We entered to the announcement of our arrival and were greeted with a spattering of applause.
As was expected, we made a slow circuit of the ballroom, offering greetings, accepting bows.
The nobles performed their usual theater of compliments laced with barely disguised venom.
My extended family had perfected that art ages ago.
“Your Majesty,” cooed Lady Isolde, whose smile could slice diamonds. “The witch queen graces us again.” Her gaze pinned Cyrene in place. “How fortunate that your delicate constitution allows you to attend, my dear.”
My wife dipped a graceful curtsy. “Your concern warms me, Lady Isolde. Though I do try to limit my fainting spells to once a week.”
A few nearby vampires choked on their drinks. I smiled.
Quandary yawned, showcasing an impressive set of fangs. He stretched dramatically on Cyrene’s shoulder and shot twin daggers of flames toward Isolde’s face. The vampire noblewoman jerked back, crying out.
“Do forgive my companion,” Cyrene said sweetly. “Quandary gets territorial around people he doesn’t trust.”
Isolde recovered fast, narrowing her gaze on the drake. “How charming.” Her attention returned to Cyrene. “I imagine joy magic must make everything feel intense. Fleeting, even.”
Cyrene’s smile faltered, though not enough for anyone else to see other than me. The faint tremor in her breath and the moment she blinked too long told its own story. Years of court training told me that if I didn’t intervene, she’d bleed for it later.
I slid an arm around her waist. “Joy endures, even if some of us have forgotten how to feel.”
Mine to protect. Mine to defend. The thought blazed through me with so much ferocity that I almost missed nearby nobles gasping. Let them see that there was no line I would not cross for my wife.
In vampire society, to publicly claim someone like this was the same thing as declaring they were essential. This meant that any slight against them would be answered personally by the one making the claim.
Lady Isolde’s face paled. She wasn’t only seeing her king defend a political alliance; she was witnessing a vampire royal allowing his heart to dictate his actions.
Cyrene’s hand came up to rest on mine where it curved around her waist, showing she accepted my claim even if she couldn’t understand what it meant.
Isolde lifted her goblet, retreating behind it.
“Dance with me?” I asked, leaning close to my bride.
“Shouldn’t we mingle some more?”
“I am mingling. With you.”
The orchestra struck the opening notes of a new song.
Cyrene gently settled Quandary on a perch I’d made sure was placed on the edge of the ballroom, close enough to the open balcony doors that her companion could fly outside if he wanted, yet close enough to come to her assistance if she needed him.
He extended one wing in my direction and met my gaze.
I found approval there. A formal acknowledgment from one guardian to another.
Witch companions chose their people carefully and bonded for life.
They were notorious for their protectiveness and their ability to judge character.
Quandary’s acceptance meant more than any treaty signature or court approval could.
Taking Cyrene’s hand, I led her onto the floor, feeling the attention of the court follow our every move.
When I took her hand, it trembled. Fear or awareness? I pretended not to notice, though the simple contact sent a pulse through me. When I drew her closer, I couldn’t resist closing my eyes and sucking in her warm, honey scent again.
She held herself stiffly as we started to sway to the music.
“Relax,” I said by her ear. “It’s only a dance.”
Her eyes flicked up, and the spark of amusement there made my heart flip over. “That’s what you said before the maze tried to eat us.”
“And yet here we are.”
“Charred but still charming.”
I smiled. “I’ll take charming.”
She huffed a laugh, though her breath caught as I settled my hand at her waist. The silk of her gown slid like water under my palm, and I almost forgot where we were.
I only felt her. The heat of her body, the pulse fluttering beneath my fingers, and the faint shimmer of joy magic that always seemed to reach out to me when she was near.
I guided her around the room, keeping her close.
“You fit perfectly,” I said before my mind caught up with my mouth.
Her lips curved. “Into your political performance?”
“In my arms.”
She stumbled enough to make me grin. “Flatterer.”
“Only when it’s true.”
One dance with Cyrene frayed my control. I traced a small circle on her back, and her breath caught. The tiny reaction was more intoxicating than any bloodwine.
“Your heart is racing,” I said.
“Vampires notice such things,” she whispered back.
“I notice everything about you.”
I’d led countless balls over the years, but none like this. None that made me ache to stop time, to hold her as long as I could.
If eternity had a heartbeat, it would sound like this.