That’s good, he murmured.
It is, but there’s always that slight tension, you know? He has to refrain from making any public statement of claiming me, and in return, I try to act with a little more sensitivity about things, like dancing with other males in public. We’re balancing things just fine.
As he listened, his gaze fell on the vice president and her husband, dancing the waltz. He asked, What if the balance shifts?
Niniane’s mental voice remained firm and strong. We don’t let it shift. Right now, we’re both engaged, challenged and satisfied with our status quo. If we decide we want to do something else, or have a different definition of our lives and relationship, I’ll abdicate and we’ll go somewhere else.
Go somewhere else.
They would have to, since, much as the Dark Fae had accepted Tiago for what he was, they would never accept a marriage between their Queen and a Wyr ex-sentinel. Curiously, he asked, You could give up all that power, now that you have it?
Absolutely, if it was the right thing for either Tiago or me—for us both. She gave him a quick smile. And anyway, my point is, we’re in a different place than you and Pia are. So even though you’ve got all those mating hormones running around in your dragony head, keep your sights fixed on why you and Pia broke up Jered and Isalynn before they came to blows. There’s a lot at stake here.
Point taken. He crossed his arms. And, I might add—again—I haven’t killed anybody yet. I should get credit for that.
She patted him on the shoulder and switched to verbal speech. “Let’s just keep it that way while we’re all in D.C., ’kay?”
He shook his head grimly. “I’m doing my best, pipsqueak.”
She snorted. “I’d say we’re all probably doing our best to at least appear to get along. Which is pretty pathetic when you think about it. If you really have to eat somebody, at least please wait until Tiago and I leave for home again.”
His mind switched gears. “You’re not going to attend the Masque in New York?”
Annually, on the winter solstice, the Elder Races celebrated the Masque of the Gods. Dragos always threw a lavish party in the city for the event, and when Niniane lived with them, she used to love attending.
She sighed. “No, I’m afraid not. The solstice is still two months away, and we can’t stay that long, not with the time slippage being what it is between Earth and Adriyel. We have things we need to attend to back at home.”
“Understood.” He crossed his arms. “Pia will be disappointed, but there isn’t much that can be done about that.”
She grinned up at him. “You’ll just have to come visit us in Adriyel someday.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That would be an interesting trip.”
“I can just see it now,” she declared, spreading out both hands. “Everybody would shit themselves to have the dragon come onto Dark Fae land. It would be glorious.”
He barked out a laugh as the orchestra finally stopped playing that infernal waltz, and Ferion escorted his mate back to him.
She looked beautiful, as always, but underneath the bright vivacity of her makeup, she also looked tired. He put an arm around her. “We’re done for the night.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. Her gaze darted over the dance floor. “Nobody else has left yet, I don’t think.”
“Someone has always got to be the first,” he replied. “Besides, it’s almost eleven. We’ve put in a respectable enough showing.”
“Okay.” She leaned against him in relief.
They began the long, tedious process of saying their goodnights, until finally they were able to climb into the back of the limo and relax with big sighs. Eva and Bayne settled in the seats opposite them.
Bayne was the closest to the mini liquor cabinet. Dragos told him, “Pour me a double scotch, would you?”