Startling enough to send a buzz of whispers running through the crowd. Eloisa stood, waiting, until silence descended again. Only then did she begin to walk toward the makeshift throne. Behind her, Margaretta walked with her husband, similarly clad in blue and gold, though her dress was not as elaborate. Then came the Domina, wearing temple brown, simply cut. Simple but not inexpensive—the velvet overrobe and the silver-and-pearl circlet holding back her hair proclaimed her status as the chief servant of the goddess.
After the Domina, the ladies-in-waiting walked sedately in pairs. They were all dressed in shades of blue from nearly as dark as Eloisa’s to something as pale as heat-faded summer skies.
Cameron looked for Sophie and found her in the last pair. Her hair had been caught up and braided into a pile at the back of her head. Her gown shimmered like peacock feathers, an unexpected shade of blue that made her skin glow. It made her hair appear redder, too. A clear sign of her change in status. Simple white pearls hung from her ears and around her neck in a single row. Her expression was composed, but as his eyes caught hers, she smiled briefly, and he felt his heart stutter a little.
“Easy,” Alec whispered in his ear, elbowing his ribs lightly.
He ignored his brother, watching Sophie. When she finally came level with their row, she didn’t turn to look at him, but he somehow knew that she wanted to. He took her in, uninterested in anything else until she had passed and Alec’s elbow in his ribs told him that he’d missed something. He hastily bent in a bow as Eloisa took her seat.
It took another minute for Margaretta and the ladies to arrange themselves. Sophie wound up on the opposite side of the aisle to the Inglewood party, whether by accident or design, which gave Cameron only a partial view of the back of her head and her slim, straight back.
Frustration burned in his gut.
Alec nudged him again, and he turned his attention back to Eloisa.
He half expected the Domina to address the court first, to make some blessing or something, but, instead, Eloisa rose and began to speak.
The speech was eloquent; he had to grant her that. She spoke of sorrow and loss, of challenges. Of the need for Anglion to stand strong together. Her words were clear and passionate, and her voice carried across the room clearly. He wondered idly if one of the Illusioners was assisting with that, but then decided it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she said what she had to say and then the rest of the audience could start. He wanted to get to the betrothal whilst he still had hold of his nerves.
He risked another sideways glance toward Sophie, only to meet the curious gaze of Lord Sylvain, seated on the opposite side of the room. The older man raised a bushy white eyebrow, and Cameron nodded politely and turned back to watch Eloisa. He tried to pay attention to her words, but in all honesty, he didn’t think he’d be able to repeat anything Eloisa was saying if someone held a pistol to his head.
Eloisa finally came to an end of her speech, finishing with the announcement of the date of her coronation. The court, as one, bowed again as she took her seat.
Then, to Cameron’s dismay, the Domina did step up to bless the court.
Thankfully, that part of the proceedings was cut short.
After that Eloisa began to speak less formally. Announcing that she was making no changes to the councilors—though Cameron thought he heard a definite “at least for now” hanging unspoken on the end of that particular sentence—speaking of arrangements for the running of the court whilst the palace was under repair, of the repairs themselves, and of the investigation into the attack.
With nothing to report on that front, a flash of frustration that perhaps only those who knew her well would recognize, appeared on Eloisa’s face. But she pulled her expression back into serene composure within a second or so and continued dealing with court business.
When she had finished with logistics, she held up a hand.
“We will deal with the questions of the court in a moment. However, before then we must deal with some happier business.”
There was a rustling murmur at this. The hand made a curt gesture that silenced the noise almost instantly.
“As you know,” Eloisa continued, “prior to this untenable attack, we were to celebrate the Ais-Seann of our devoted lady-in-waiting, Lady Sophia Kendall, whom the goddess has seen fit to bless with the gift of power.”
This raised another chattering hum, though Cameron thought that the fact that Sophie had power could hardly be news to most of those present. The palace gossip might be slowed by the aftermath of the attack, but it hadn’t died completely.
“Therefore, we rejoice at the coming of another royal witch to our court. Her strength and power shall serve Anglion, as we all do.” Eloisa paused and looked at Sophie directly. “And to assist her in her service, we have determined that she should wed an equally devoted servant of the court. A man who has served Anglion with blood and body and whose family has always been stalwart supporters of the throne. Lady Sophia, will you come forward?”
Sophie rose to take her place in front of the queen-to-be. She looked paler than she had earlier, but she was smiling as she dropped into a curtsy. When she straightened and turned to face the court, the court was so quiet that if a pin had fallen from her hair, it would have rung through the room like a thunderbolt. The tension in the air was fierce as several hundred nobles held their breaths to hear the name of the man who had won the prize.
Eloisa turned toward Cameron and his family, her gaze resting on Liam. “Lord Inglewood, I request the service of your brother Cameron in this matter.”