by Cege Smith
“It’s time, Your Majesty,” said the muffled voice outside.
Connor wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pulled her lips close to his. They didn’t touch though they were tantalizingly close. “Forgive me if I miss the ceremony. I don’t think my frail heart could take it.”
Angeline went to lean into what would be their last kiss, but he was already gone. She stiffened as she looked around her. The room was empty, just like her heart. She took a deep gasping breath as her whole body trembled. Looking into the mirror, her pale face wet with her tears, she thought that she looked like a little girl, not a queen.
That thought sobered her. Drawing her shoulders back, she wiped the tears from her cheeks. Then she pinched them to draw out more color. She straightened her gown. It looked as if white diamonds glittered all over the skirt. They matched the crown sitting in the curls at the top of her head.
“Stop being a silly, lovesick child,” she admonished her image. “It will not do.”
Coldness settled across her mind as she went numb. It was time to put away her emotions. They wouldn’t serve her well over the next hours. They would only make things more difficult.
The air outside was cool as she made her way to the chapel. The weather was barreling its way toward the inevitable winter. She found that thought appropriate for her journey as well.
As the doors to the atrium of the palace’s chapel opened before her, she was surprised to find Malin standing there waiting for her.
“A moment alone, Your Highness?” he asked as he bowed deeply before her.
It was unusual, and people would remark on it later, but Angeline found herself gesturing to the servants around them. As soon as they were gone, she dragged her eyes to his. It didn’t look as if he had slept in days, but then again, she barely had either.
“The guests are anxious for us to begin,” she said primly.
“I was afraid that you weren’t going to come,” Malin said. He looked uncertain. Malin never looked uncertain.
Angeline brought her arms up and swept them around her. “Here I am. Ready to do my duty.”
“You understand duty better than anyone,” Malin said quietly. “That is why I hope you will understand the dilemma I was in when I was doing mine.”
A rush of heat flooded to Angeline’s cheeks. “You dare bring up my father’s death now? Have you no shame?”
Malin looked alarmed as he stepped toward her. Angeline backpedaled.
“I didn’t know. I swear,” Malin said. “I didn’t know that Sophia was gathering intelligence for Monroe. Eric was like a father to me. What I was asked for seemed like simple and silly things. After it was over, I saw all the signs that I missed. I wouldn’t have deliberately done anything to harm him.”
Despite the earnestness in his voice, Angeline couldn’t believe him. It was too convenient, and Malin lied too well. “I don’t love you. I will never love you.” The flinch that crossed his face gave her a small measure of satisfaction.
“I know that. I couldn’t expect to be so lucky,” he said after a short pause.
“If I suspect for one moment from this point forward that you have betrayed me, I won’t hesitate to put a stop to it. I will take whatever measures necessary.” It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.
Malin’s head fell lower and lower until his chin almost touched his chest. With his slouched shoulders, he looked defeated. Angeline almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
“The guests are waiting,” she reminded him.
“Of course,” Malin said. He gave her a small bow and then disappeared through the small door that lead to the inner chamber of the chapel.
Moments later, Angeline heard the first tones of the music that would take her down the aisle. The giant doors in front of her opened, and a hundred pairs of eyes turned toward her. Unlike her Ascension ceremony, the wedding was a small affair. Only two members of each house were invited as well as those who sat on the governing committees for the kingdom. Still, she felt a wash of emotions coming off the crowd, not unlike those she felt at her Ascension Ceremony.
Awe. Envy. Hatred. Adoration.
They were all there. She forced her feet forward. At the end of the long aisle, Malin waited for her. His face was drawn, but as he watched her walk toward him, she saw him straightening and standing taller. That made her feel better. In the privacy of their quarters, she could be honest with him about the depths of her disgust for him, but in public, they were supposed to be well into the throes of love.
She caught the barest whispers of people asking why she was walking down the aisle alone. Rhone was supposed to be her escort, but she didn’t trust anyone else to watch over their prisoners. She’d deal with the gossip later. For now, she was all that she needed.
There was only one other person that required acknowledgment before she reached the steps leading her up to Malin’s side. As much as she wished and hoped that Theodora would somehow magically go back to Tanagor, she knew that she wouldn’t get so lucky. The Supreme Seat of the Clan would be a thorn in her side for many years to come unless she found a way to rid herself of her.
Theodora looked splendid in a dress of deep blue that accented her silver blond hair beautifully. She looked every bit a high-ranking noble, although no one would have any idea who she was or what she was doing there. Still, her presence wouldn’t cause much question. Theodora looked as if she belonged there.
Angeline gave her the barest of nods before turning her attention back to the front of the chapel. It seemed as if the journey took hours before her foot touched the bottom step of the short stairs. Malin stepped down and offered her his arm. She slipped her hand into it and allowed him to guide her up the last two steps.
That was it. She was there. She stared at the Vicar and tried to focus on the words coming out of his mouth, but it was difficult. Part of her wanted to faint. Part of her wanted to be sick. She wanted to be anywhere but there.
Her part was simple. She said the words required whenever the Vicar turned toward her. She didn’t hesitate because she knew the truth. She may be agreeing to marry Malin, but in the end, she was truly wedded to her people. If placing Malin as a figurehead beside her allowed her to serve them better, than it was a small price to pay.
Then came the part where they were to face each and speak the vows of love and commitment for the rest of their lives. In her detached state, Angeline found herself fascinated by the feverishness with which Malin spoke his words.
“By the will of the kingdom of Altera and its people, I take you, Angeline Mary Ellen Robart, as my bride. I will honor and protect you. I will cherish you and support you. Our children will live with pride in the legacy that we will create together. With these words and this ring, no one will ever part us.”
Angeline didn’t think that anyone else caught the slight shift of words. ‘No man’ became ‘no one’ in his vow. It made her want to laugh. Malin was naïve if he thought that he could compete with Connor in any way for her heart. Looks and charm didn’t make up for the fact that he was self-serving and deceitful. He was good at his job, but she already planned to find a way to ensure that he could never lie to her again. Having access to magic was a heady thing.
Those thoughts carried her through the rest of the ceremony. It seemed all too soon before the Vicar’s words boomed out into the small chamber.
“Those who have been joined here today will never be separated. Everyone please rise for Queen Angeline Mary Ellen Baford Robart, and her husband, His Highness, Prince Malin Crawford Baford.”
Angeline forced the smile to her face even as Malin took her hand and raised their joined fists into the air. She waved with her other hand barely hearing the cheers and shouts of congratulations. She heard the low undercurrent of conversation as Malin took her arm to guide her down the aisle. She continued to wave, but her amplified hearing caught pieces of the words.
“Did he know?”
“What’s happening?”
&nbs
p; “A title is a title.”
“Did he agree?”
What had everyone a tither was a last minute change that Angeline made in consultation with the Vicar. Everyone expected that upon marriage to Angeline that Malin would become king. But Angeline scoured the documentation of the ancient laws, and everything she found said only one thing. A female heir ascending the throne must be married within three days. There was nothing that said she had to give him the title of king. So she didn’t. She upheld Alteran law, but maintained full control of her throne by simply giving him a royal title. If a miracle ever occurred, and they produced a child, he or she would be the heir to the throne. In the meantime, she ensured that the Clan wouldn’t be so quick to get rid of her. As a prince, Malin’s right to the throne could be challenged if something happened to her.
They stopped next to the door leading out to the courtyard. There were tables set out and music flowed from the far corner. They had to greet their guests and accept congratulations before joining everyone in the courtyard. Then they would slip away just before dusk. Everyone would assume their disappearance was for another reason altogether, but it bought them the time they needed to deal with Alron. By the same time tomorrow, the most she’d have to worry about would be finding a plausible explanation for Lord Redley’s death to calm the nobles.
At least, she hoped that was how it was going to go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Angeline had the power to constantly surprise him. It was a genuine smile on his face as he and Angeline began to shake hands and exchange pleasantries with the wedding guests emerging from the inner chamber. There wasn’t time to focus on anything other than the string of people passing them. He knew many were watching his behavior closely, but he felt relaxed for the first time in months. He had all the time in the world to show Angeline how he felt about her, and hopefully win back her trust. She would never have to doubt him again.
Before the ceremony, he thought that everything was lost, but then Angeline gave him the best wedding gift of them all. She likely didn’t even realize it, as he didn’t think that Rhone had thought to give her the piece of paper where he renounced any intent of being king.
When the Vicar announced his new title, Malin found that the first emotion he felt was relief. For all the talk of duty, responsibilities, and loyalty that he had over the years, no one asked him the most important question of all.
Was it his desire to be king?
After many nights lying awake in bed searching the answer, he found that it was easier to face the truth than try to talk himself out of it any longer. Being king was a position he had no desire to have. In fact, the idea of being the one responsible for the entire country made his palms sweat.
It was one thing to know everything about the inner workings and politics of court and the personalities of the nobles. It was invigorating dissecting the maneuvering of those who constantly tried to advance their interests. It gave him a thrill to outsmart the ones who were doing wrong. But that was strategy and game playing at a completely different level. It didn’t require a patient smile for people who constantly jockeyed for his attention as it did for Angeline. That part made Malin’s skin crawl.
If given a choice, he would have been a soldier. He still remembered the conversation with his father as if it were yesterday.
“I want to enlist with the infantry. Rhone said that I had the skill to advance quickly. I could be Chief General when he retires!” Sixteen-year-old Malin swung an imaginary sword in the air.
“You can’t be serious.” His father didn’t even look up from the paperwork on his desk. “I won’t live forever, and the King has already mentioned to me that he thinks you’d be a possible match for the Princess.”
“Life in court is boring!” Malin was outraged. He thought that leaving the Clan meant that he would have the freedom to choose his own path.
His father finally looked up and regarded him over the rims of his glasses. “Perhaps if you spent more time studying the ledgers and observing the King’s audiences with the people instead of the soldiers’ yard, you wouldn’t think so.”
“I want to be a solider.”
“You are Clan. You have responsibilities.”
“I was kicked out, don’t you remember?” The scar on Malin’s palm burned, and he rubbed at it absently.
“Your blood is still Clan blood, and you are my son. You will do as your told. If you continue to argue, you won’t be allowed to go to the soldiers’ yard anymore. I will speak to Rhone.”
Looking back, Malin thought that he should have argued more and demanded that his father listen to him. Or he could have gone behind his father’s back to the King, who had already begun to show him some favor. It pleased Eric to see Malin spar with Angeline in the soldiers’ yard. Although Malin felt silly fighting with a girl, it was a convenient excuse to be there, so he accepted it. Plus he never admitted it then, but Angeline held her own better than some of the newly initiated soldiers. Rhone taught her well.
As he led his bride into the courtyard, he thought that he played a part in her education as well. He wasn’t going to argue with her ruling on his title. There was nothing in the law that said the male spouse of a queen had to be king. It was an ingenious move on her part, and he couldn’t help but feel a measure of pride.
His eyes were constantly drawn to her even as they moved through the crowd. He never strayed more than a few feet away from her. Although the immediate threat of Monroe and Sophia had been dealt with, Malin didn’t want to leave anything to chance.
Anyone else watching would see her smiles and warmth and think that she truly was a young woman in love. She played the part beautifully. But Malin knew better. The smile didn’t reach her eyes. Her laughter didn’t linger in the air. Her skin was just a shade too pale, and there were small bags visible beneath her eyes despite the paint on her face. The nobles, shrewd observers that they were, didn’t know enough about Angeline to know the difference, but he did.
There was no time to speak about anything of substance, but Malin was fine with that. For a time, it was possible to forget about the Clan, the vampires, and Connor Radwin. At one point, he observed Angeline turn her face upward toward the sun. Her eyes fell closed, and it was as if she believed for a moment that she was the only person in the world. He decided then that he would make things right for her. He didn’t know how, but he would try.
It didn’t escape his notice that Theodora was absent from the festivities. She could be up to other mischief in the palace, but he found that he wasn’t worried about it. Theodora also would be dealt with. The only reason that he felt she should even attend the negotiation at all was because it was protocol. With Angeline’s ever increasing powers, he thought that she would be able to create a portal as long as she heard the spell. He intended to ensure that Theodora gave it to her. He didn’t want to be ‘accidentally’ trapped at Craven.
As the sun began its descent, he felt the pull of what they needed to do. He wanted to let the sun go down and dance with Angeline in the moonlight. But that was a silly notion. Other than formal functions, she wouldn’t touch him again, not that he blamed her.
He caught her eye and the small nod of her head. It was time, and it was his queue. Catching a glass off the tray of a passing servant, Malin held it high in the air calling for silence.
“On behalf of myself and the Queen, I want to thank all of you again for joining us on this special day. You are welcome to continue to eat and drink and be merry for the rest of the evening. Tomorrow, life returns to normal for all of us. To my beautiful bride, Queen Angeline and the people of Altera,” he said, raising his glass.
He held out his hand toward her without looking, and felt the pressure of Angeline’s hand in his once again. He helped her up onto the step next to him. She clinked his glass with hers and sipped. The assembled crowd cheered.
Then Angeline raised her glass, and they quieted again. “Normal will be different for all of us.” Her voic
e carried through the courtyard. “I echo my husband’s thanks for your patience and support through the trying times of the last several days. I humbly hope that you will find my rule as fair and prosperous as my father’s. Tomorrow begins a new day for Altera.”
The cheers were louder this time, which Malin suspected had to do with the amount of wine that had been consumed. He stepped down and took Angeline’s glass from her hand. He put both glasses down on a nearby table and then quickly made his way back to her. Then he gently swept her up into his arms. Even with her voluminous dress, she felt tiny next to his chest.
The crowd laughed and clapped as he made his way through it. The congratulatory remarks were now colored with a lewdness that made Malin uncomfortable. But Angeline’s arms around his neck were a welcome distraction. She waved to several more people before turning her cheek into his chest. As they reached the edge of the crowd, he felt her heavy sigh.
He made sure they were well into the hallway leading to her chambers before setting her back onto her feet. She leaned against the wall, and he moved toward her only to have her raise a hand to keep him at a distance.
“That was exhausting,” she said. “I felt several times as if I were about to fly apart, my face was stretched so thin.”
“The guests seemed satisfied,” Malin said, unsure of what to say to make her feel better. It seemed that everything he said either angered her or made her feel worse. “They saw what they wanted to see. Isn’t that what matters?”
“There will be questions about your title,” Angeline said.
“So let there be questions,” Malin replied. “It will soon be forgotten once everyone sees what an amazing queen you are.”
She tilted her head toward him. He almost thought that he saw the shadow of a smile. Then it fell from her face even as he saw the shadow cross the tiles toward them. His shoulders tensed, even as he recognized the man invading their first quiet moments as man and wife.
Connor Radwin.