“Lucinda,” he said, too many emotions buried in one name.
“What if I don’t want to be queen?” she asked him.
Around them, chaos was unfolding. Lord Treveon was holding Brielle, tears falling down his face. Lucien was exchanging rushed words with his father. A group of nobles was in a circle talking loudly while the rest of the nobles who remained seated were watching it all happen. Max and Gladys were standing to the side as if trying to be out of the way.
“Then you won’t be queen,” Ira said, stepping forward.
Irritation ground into Luci’s bones. How dare he try to patronize her?
“I just heard you tell Lord Treveon I was going to be queen regardless of his wishes, but what I'm asking is what about my wishes?” she snapped.
The corner of Ira’s lip tugged up, and Luci contemplated the consequences of hitting the crown prince in front of everyone. Every step he took towards her was an increased risk to his personal safety.
“Your wishes are the only thing I care about,” he said.
Luci was seeing red, and if she could summon Elowen, it would have been to cast a curse on the crown prince of Meridea.
“Fine, I don’t want to be queen,” Luci said, standing her ground even though every step he took closer to her with unwavering intent made her legs weak.
His smile grew. Dimples on full display. He reached up and snatched the decorative ribbon from his lapel and tossed it to Gladys, who was once again trying to hide her smile behind her hand. Someone should have told her it wasn’t very effective.
“There, now the crown goes to Gladys. Are you done being difficult yet?” he asked her.
Difficult. Like she was the problem and not him, just throwing around titles and crowns like this was Sunday dinner.
“What if Gladys doesn’t want it?” Luci asked.
“I’ll take it,” Lucien called.
Ira shrugged and finished his heart-stopping walk to stand in front of her. He had the audacity to look at her like she was all he needed in the world. It was the worst possible scenario because her fire was turning to ash, and without it, she would lose all her courage.
“Lucien will take it,” he said, “So again, I’m asking you, are you done being difficult?”
Luci’s lip quivered a fraction, and Ira lifted his hand to run his thumb over her bottom lip, and for just a moment, it was just them.
“Why are you doing this?” she whispered.
“Because I love you,” he answered quietly, just for them. “And I don’t want to lose you to things you see as obstacles, so I am removing them. If you want to run because you don’t love me, then run, but it won’t be because you think there is some invisible line you can’t cross. I’ll make you queen if you want, I’ll abdicate, and we will live here and travel; we can live in Thornhollow for all I care. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”
He understood her perfectly. It undid a knot in her that long since was a part of who she was.
“You were proclaiming me as queen because after that, there could be no other walls,” she whispered.
He bent down and pressed his lips to her ear.
“What will it be, Cinderella?”
A shiver ran through her, and she reached out, gripping his arm lest her legs fail her.
“What if you regret it?” she asked.
He pulled back and cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her cheekbone.
“Not even magic or fairy godmothers could make me regret choosing you.”
Everything he said made her legs a little more unstable, and her heart was ready to give out at any second, beating outside her chest. He was offering her the world on her terms, and all she had to do was give one simple answer.
“Yes,” she whispered.