The air hung thick and sweet, smelling like too many roses and hot wax. Important people from all over Eldorra
tight. This wasn't a happy day. This felt like being sentenced. He glanced sideways. The reason for his sentence stood there, hidd
ucian Theron Valtair... do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded
in his ears: "Marry her, Lucian. Marry her or watch our kingdom burn."
ake this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love and
her voice cut through the quiet
ward. Carefully, they lift
dral seemed to
as midnight, fell around her shoulders. Her skin was smooth as cream. But it was her eyes that pinned him. Green. Not soft green.
her... just like her traitor mother..." "Dangerous cre
You may now seal you
. Strange for a cathedral full of roses. His lips brushed hers. It was quick. Cold. Hard. Over in a heartbeat. But in t
petals rained down from above. Music started playing, loud an
a hot brand burning through his sleeve. He leaned his head close to hers, his voice a
mile. A warning. Her voice was just as low, just a
*
high with food Lucian didn't want – roasted birds with their feathers fanned out, towers of fruit, glistening meats. He watched Seraphina. She sat be
red wine in his own heavy glass. His voice wa
The Duke was laughing too loudly with a group of nobles across the room. Seraph
guards marched in, dragging a figure between them. It was a young man, barely more
rivate chambers! He had these!" The captain threw down a small, flat device onto the marble floor. It loo
e. Every single person in the hall turn
the table. Then, nothing. She became perfectly still again, her face like carved ice. C
ough the room like a knife. "Take my wife," he commanded, pointing at Seraphina without lookin
ear showed there. Only a bitter, cold understanding. "You are maki
salt again, close enough to see the faint pulse beating in her throat
bow like a shadow. His smile was thin and sharp. "A snake in your bridal bed already
nd staircase at the side of the hall. Her green gown flowed behind her li
*
eavy wooden door of the royal chambers – his chambers, now theirs. He listened. He expected crying. Shouting. Rage. Bu
cket and turned it in the lock. The clic
s of glass and painted pottery crunched under his boots as he stepped inside. Seraphina stood at the far window, her back to him. She wasn't looking out. Her han
ou feel better?" Lucian asked. His voice was soft,
s flat. "I was testing the walls of
lue and white porcelain. The crunch was loud. "Your spy," he said, watc
ple under the torn silk of her gown. "Then you know," she said
"Not... not here for her... warning... plot... against... the Prin
om. He grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him. T
ed, his voice rough. He sh
face. Her eyes were wide, the green depths filled not with anger, but with a sudden, sharp panic. Sw
oared, tightening
and silver slipped from the hidden folds of her skirt near h
r, thin and sharp as a needle, barely longer than hi
er, revealing the smooth skin of her upper arm. At the
e with disbelief. "You brought a knife," he breathed,
, wide with that panicked fear just seconds before, now blazed with defiance. "Do it, then," she
nst the large stained-glass window beside them. It shattered inward. Jagged pieces of colored glass – blues, reds, gold
oment, Lucian saw the knife on the wet floor, the broken glass, the rain blowing
was a low, dangerous whisper that cut through the noise of the storm. "Pick i