From the rows of seats, a steady murmur of conversation filled the room as guests waited. Towards the back, Faolán’s bulky form stuck out, and I met his gaze. He went still, brow furrowing. Mine matched it.
This was only the second time I’d seen him since Kat had rid herself of her husband. The first had been a terse exchange, giving him orders as part of the security preparations, and Rose had given me an apologetic look after.
It felt like I was the one who should be apologising to her—she was the one caught between us, after all.
I pushed myself to give him a nod. He wasn’t to blame—not solely. And hadn’t I held on to old rules too long, myself? Childhood lessons were hard to escape.
As I continued surveying the crowd, I caught myself searching for rich red hair, even though I knew she wasn’t here yet. Force of habit.
As an offering of friendship to Dusk, Zita had asked Kat to be one of her attendants. I struggled to believe their good intentions, but Sepher told me she’d taken a liking to Kat.
There was plenty to like.
I tugged on the collar of my formal shirt, stomach dipping at the memory of Kat on her knees for me yesterday. Holding my gaze as she took my cock down her throat, she’d responded to my directions exquisitely and gone on with her own explorations until I’d erupted over her tongue.
After, perhaps high on being cured or what she’d done to me, she’d begged me to take her to a piercer. I’d sat there as she’d bared her breasts and had them pierce her nipples. She’d barely flinched as they’d pushed the needle through, but last night I’d been gentle and thorough with my ministrations, cleaning her skin and applying a healing salve.
Just when I thought I knew her and all that she was becoming, she surprised me.
I’d left her getting ready in our rooms a few hours ago, and now I burned to see her.
“You look more excited about all this than I do.” From his seat, Sepher arched an eyebrow at me. Ankle resting on his knee, he spread out, taking up the chairs either side of his.
“Aren’t you eager to see your future wife?”
His lips curled. “Not as eager as you are to see yours.”
I had to bite back a smile. Now there was an idea.
This new Sepher—the one who’d been exiled from the city for years—I almost liked. If not for our shared past and divided courts, we might’ve been friends.
I let myself indulge in his suggestion. What would it be like to stand up here as the groom waiting to marry Kat? It felt warm and tight like one of her hugs—like I was safe.
The cello struck up at that moment, soon followed by harp and flute, breaking through my daydream.
I kept hold of a wisp of its disappearing form and tucked it in my heart.
Sepher flashed a wide grin and stood. “It’s time.” His hands clasped together, knuckles whitening, and for a moment I had a glimpse of the nervous excitement behind his easy fa?ade.
I waited to one side, making space for the ceremony. I only had a small part to play in—
Every thought I’d ever had shattered.
I couldn’t draw breath.
My heart might’ve stopped.
Because at the end of the aisle stood a goddess.
Loose red hair spilled against a gown that seemed to be made of molten gold. The strapless bodice draped over her full breasts, clinging and cupping to highlight every curve, even the points of her nipples and the fresh piercings either side. It nipped in at her waist before the skirt flowed over her round hips like liquid metal.
She carried a simple bunch of white narcissi, signifying spring and growth—the potential of new beginnings. Each step revealed her thigh through the long slit, and on that glorious thigh sat a golden serpent.
This time it wasn’t only like she was mine—she truly was.
For a moment, I thought someone had added a drum to the lilting music, but it was my pulse, heavy and so, so loud it could’ve shaken the earth.
Even from this distance, I could pick out the deep green of her eyes locked on me. A faint smile edged her lips—perhaps because I was staring.
I could bump Sepher out the way—fight him for the spot—and make this into our wedding instead.
As she arrived at the front and nodded to Sepher, I swallowed. Get a grip. This was a royal wedding. I was here for professional reasons.
You are the Night Queen’s Shadow, not a lovestruck boy.
Though maybe I was both.
By the time she handed Sepher the white narcissi and went to one of the chairs in the front row, I’d pulled myself together enough to incline my head to her, though my eyes might’ve burned a hole through her dress in the meantime.
Fuck. I mean, fuck. She had no business looking that good—not when I could do nothing about it.
With a deep breath, I dragged my attention away from her, though it kept flicking back. Especially as, now she was seated, the skirt fell open, showing off her legs even more.
A tall, willowy woman followed as the next attendant. It took me a moment to recognise her as one of Sepher’s childhood friends.
When Zita arrived, I caught Sepher gulping as a lovestruck expression spread over his face. In deep cerulean blue, she looked beautiful, but she wasn’t Katherine.
My Katherine.
Those two words went round and round in my head as the ceremony started, and it was only because my shadows nudged me that I stirred from my daze in time to give Dusk’s blessing to the marriage. Kat’s gaze seared into me as I spoke, and the need to get her to myself grew more intense.
The rest of the ceremony felt like it took at least a century to pass, and even once it was over, I had to wait for Sepher and Zita to leave, followed by the other attendant, and then Kat, her hips swaying as she walked away. I could only stare at her exposed back and her backside clad in the metallic fabric.
I rubbed my fingers together, wondering if it felt slippery.
Once she was out of the room and the guests started filing after her, I checked the mezzanine for two of my operatives, posing as guests. With a moment’s eye contact, they confirmed all was well.
Ceremony done. Now for the ball.
83
Bastian
It felt odd to pass through the door leading to Dawn’s side of the palace, but they were our hosts. I tried to catch up to Kat, but a guard pulled me to one side with a question about weapons.
Guests had to surrender them in the grand hall before entering Dawn. I’d left my Shadowblade in my office. If anything happened, it wasn’t far, and I didn’t trust it with anyone else. It sat on my desk with Kat’s bow and dagger—her ring would allow her to enter and pick them up if she needed to.
Gods willing, she wouldn’t.
By the time I entered the party, music and chatter already filled the large entrance chamber as folk gathered drinks and stopped to talk or continued into the ballroom itself. I spotted Faolán towering above everyone else and the top of Rose’s strawberry blond head next to him. She nodded enthusiastically to someone in their group, and as the crowd shifted, I caught a glimpse of deep red hair and molten gold. My legs were already moving before I consciously registered it was Kat.
On the far side of the group, King Lucius passed, acknowledging Kat with a nod as he did. It left a little twitch of unease in my gut. What had unCavendish told him about her? I would have to press my spy to get closer to him.