Are you going to kill me, princess?
Turned out that answer was yes.
He tipped my chin up. “You look too good to be this nervous.”
“It seems like whenever I look this good, something terrible happens.”
He choked a laugh. “You may have a point there. I’ve survived a few coups now and you looking good was a factor in at least two of them.”
Bloodshed and ballgowns. They really went together.
But I wasn’t ready to joke about it. The memory of the wedding was still too fresh. That, too, had been a grand gesture to show off the power of a new regime to its most important subjects.
And look at how that had ended.
Raihn swept his thumb over the wrinkle on my brow. “What’s that face for?”
I stared at him, deadpan, because he knew what that face was for.
“Nothing to be nervous about,” he said.
My eyebrows lowered, because fuck that bullshit, I knew he was nervous too.
He sighed. “Fine. You have me. But I’m feeling better already, because if you walk in there wearing that face, it’ll put any doubts about our brutal, terrifying power to rest.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed.
“There we go.”
He smiled. Even though I could still feel the unease beneath it, the expression tugged deep in my chest. There was genuine happiness in that smile. Something a little looser, that hadn’t existed when we’d first met.
I remembered the first time I’d heard Raihn laugh, and it had struck me because I didn’t know it was possible for anyone to laugh like that—so freely. He smiled like that too. Totally un-vampiric.
I couldn’t help but return it.
A knock rang out at the door. Ketura poked her head in.
“The moon is rising,” she said. “Everyone’s ready for you.”
Raihn glanced at me and raised his brows, as if to say, Well, this is it.
I took his arm and very subtly wiped the sweat from my palms on his sleeve.
“Nice,” he muttered into my ear, as we followed Ketura out the door.
Raihn and I were led to the balcony of the castle. Not long ago, Raihn had been strung up here to die. Now, we would stand here to address our people.
This feast was always one of Sivrinaj’s grandest, and this year’s was especially grand besides. In light of our current unique circumstances, we’d decided to open it up more than usual, allowing citizens of Sivrinaj into the outer reaches of the palace grounds. Within the innermost walls, the nobles and officials gathered—all those, of course, who had sworn loyalty to the new king and queen. A crowd of Hiaj, Rishan, and human, alike.
A year ago—hell, months ago—such a thing would have been incomprehensible.
A year ago, the thought of even being among all these people, with my throat exposed, would have been paralyzing.
A wave of that terror passed over me as Raihn and I approached the doorway and I saw the sea of faces beneath—hundreds, maybe thousands. I paused at the silver arch, dizzy. Raihn’s hand found the small of my back, his thumb swirling a single comforting circle on bare skin.
He leaned close to me, his lips brushing my ear.
“You’re safe,” he murmured.
Seemed like some kind of magic, that he always made me believe him.
I straightened my back, wound my fingers through his, and strode out to greet my people alongside him.
Somewhere below, voices rang out in perfect unison:
“Announcing, on this blessed eve, the arrival of the King and Queen of the House of Night!”
The words shivered through the air, hanging there like smoke. They slithered over my skin. I felt Raihn flinch at them, too, like the reality of them struck him in a way he wasn’t expecting.
A ripple of movement, as all those countless eyes turned to us.
I stopped breathing.
And I still didn’t breathe—couldn’t—as all those people, Rishan, Hiaj, and human, lowered into bows, like a wave rolling across the sea.
Goddess help me.
What a sight it was.
I let out a shaky exhale. I was grateful for Raihn’s hand, clutching mine so hard it trembled.
He glanced at me through the corner of his eye, crinkled slightly with a smile of relief.
I muttered, quietly enough for only him to hear, “And you didn’t even have to rip off anyone’s head.”
Raihn stifled his chuckle.
The ceremony itself was brief—no vampire wanted to spend more time watching a bunch of religious ritual more than they wanted to spend it eating and drinking and fucking. The feast was to commemorate the end of one lunar year and the beginning of a new one. I’d seen Vincent perform this rite only once before, and I’d had to sneak out to do it, watching from the rooftop of a nearby building and quietly creeping away before anyone could smell me.