I could admit that I looked good. A small army of servants had seen to that, painting my face, smoothing my hair, pinching and prodding my body so that every swell swelled and every dip dipped in all the right places in this dress. Though, I definitely couldn’t take credit for making this thing look good. It was nothing short of a work of art. Even more magnificent, somehow, than the one I’d worn at Vale and Lilith’s wedding.
It was dark purple, nearly black, and tailored close to my body. It was scandalously revealing—cut low enough to reveal the dimples at the base of my spine, and plunging in the front, the bodice dipping between my breasts. It was designed to frame both my Marks, and it did that very well, the shape complementing every curve and point of the tattoos. The bodice was boned with deep red that echoed the color of the Marks, and those bones, at my hips, gave way to dots of scattered silver that resembled stars, growing thicker as they reached the skirt.
It rivaled the craftsmanship of every weapon I’d ever held.
And I did look every bit a queen. As I should.
The first few weeks of our joint reign had been tense, uncertain. But over the last month, Raihn and I had worked hard to cement our rule over the House of Night. The traitors had been sentenced. The Bloodborn had been expelled. Rebellious nobles had been deposed.
No one had come for our heads.
Yet.
But tonight was the first major festival to take place since the end of the war. Raihn and I would appear before the most respected of vampire society, and we’d make our offering to Nyaxia for the new lunar year. We’d need to be...
Royal.
Fucking royal, when one year ago, I’d spent this holiday barred up in my room, forbidden by Vincent to come to the festivities. It had been just a few short weeks before the start of the Kejari.
Little did I know, then, how close I was to everything changing.
I knew Raihn was approaching before I heard his footsteps. I often did, now.
He appeared behind me in the mirror, peering through the open doorway. He let out a low whistle.
“Really?” I said, turning around and examining the dress from the back. “You think so?”
“What the hell else would I think?”
He approached, and I watched him through the mirror. Goddess, the tailors were damned artists. His outfit complemented mine, cut from the same shade of deep purple cloth, the cuffs and the collar adorned with the same star accents.
It was also incredibly flattering. The jacket was shaped impeccably to his body. The buttons started low, leaving the top open to reveal deliberate glimpses of his Mark. Along with a decidedly noticeable expanse of muscled flesh.
“You know,” Raihn said, “it’s very easy for me to tell now when you’re doing that.”
“Doing what?” I said innocently.
He was one to talk. As if I didn’t also feel his eyes on my chest.
I turned around to face him. My fingertips ran down his throat, tracing the lines of his Mark all the way down to the soft hair of his chest. I thought of the night of the Halfmoon ball, when he’d opened his jacket for me and practically offered up his heart.
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.