Nora looked unearthly stunning. Her purple hair was worn in long ringlets down her back. A small golden circlet sat on her hair. Her dress was gold, the skirt embroidered with Yakuran trigons and laurel leaves that represented the Sanian royal family. Amethysts sparkled at her ears and throat. Isa pulled out the back of Nora’s train, where artificial purple flowers and green laurels had been sewn onto it, accentuating its length. It was a dress for a queen.
“Perfect,” Isa declared.
Nora grimaced and tugged at the skirt. “Are you sure we have to dance in front of everyone?”
Both Matteo and his sister answered, “Yes!” at the same time.
“You’ve been tortured and killed,” Matteo said with a smirk. “Yet your knees didn’t shake like they are now, all because of our wedding ball.”
“I really think Isa should dance with you,” Nora hedged. “She is so much more graceful than I am.”
Isa made a face. “Eeeew! He’s my brother.”
Matteo held out his hand to Nora. “Do you remember the first time I asked you to dance? I told you that dancing was just like fighting.”
“We were in the corridor all alone. Where no one could see us,” she said. “And you lied. They are nothing alike. I felt completely taken in.”
“So was I.”
He kept his hand outstretched, as he had the first night they danced in secret. Nora, as if moved by some intangible force, placed her rough palm inside of his. His thumb closed over hers. Whatever was between them had always been inevitable. He brushed a kiss against her hand.
“I love you more than poetry,” he said as he led her into the ballroom.
“For which the entire court thanks you,” Isa said with a wink at Nora.
Matteo offered his free arm to his sister and they began to descend the marble steps to the ballroom floor.
“King Matteo, Queen Nora, and Princess Isabel,” the herald cried in a loud voice.
They stood on the last step until the applause in the room ended. Isa nudged him and he saw her hook Nora’s train to her wrist. Without giving Nora a chance to react, he pulled her off the step and into his arms. He could feel her heart racing against his. He would never tire of holding her close to him.
“Dancingisexactly like fighting.” He brought her closer to him. “It is all attack,” he whispered, and then spun her away, “and retreat. Fighting and then surrendering.”
With one last turn of his hand, she was back in his arms. Her fingers intertwined behind his neck. His head leaned down to hers. His heart beat wildly in his chest. Did a king dare kiss his wife in front of an entire assembly of dons?
“Are you surrendering to me?” Nora whispered.
“Always.”
He pressed his lips gently against hers.
The answer was yes.
50
GERARD
A YEAR LATER . . .
The throne room in Bhailmore Castle was already filled to bursting. Unlike assemblies in Kaul, there were people of all ages and classes assembled for Elea’s coronation. She stood in front of the throne, her dark purple hair down. It reached past her shoulders now. Elea looked beautiful in a green dress that was embroidered with golden thread. The collar of her gown was stiff and rose behind her head like a sunburst. He thought it might be to hide her missing patches of curls in the back. Some of her purple hair had never grown back after Laird Lochdon yanked it out. The bodice was delightfully fitted, and it had puffed sleeves and a large skirt. The embroidery on her skirt told the story of Yakura, Queen Eleanora I, her three daughters, and of their Holy Trigon.
Elea looked radiant.
Queenlike.
Gerard stood by her right side, feeling like an overdressed monkey in the latest fashion from Kaul. Baggy silk breeches and a doublet made from the same green cloth as Elea’s gown, complete with a short black cape. At least he’d refused to wear the new heeled boots that were all the rage. But he did agree to wear a small circlet crown on his head. It pinched something awful. He grimaced and heard his half brother laugh.
King Alexandre and Queen Yvette were holding hands on the left side of Elea. His half brother was dressed in the same balloon-like breeches, but somehow, as always, Alexandre wore them with style and elegance. They flattered his slenderer shape. Queen Yvette appeared resplendent at his side. Her red curls framed her face and her celestial-blue gown was as beautifully embroidered as Elea’s. Gerard had never seen his half brother so happy before. So confident. Alexandre’s mother, Queen Maria, had stayed in Kaul to oversee the government during his royal visit to Yakura.