Page 75 of Glow of the Everflame

“Perhaps Her Majesty would prefer to sit with the family,” Luther said, stepping to my side and lightly grasping my elbow. “Uncle Garath could take her place.”

Remis eyed my dress. “Yes. That might be best—if Her Majesty agrees.”

Breath whooshed out of me. “Her Majesty definitely agrees,” I blurted out. “It’s all yours, Uncle Garath.”

The elder Corbois shot me a terse look but couldn’t hide his pleasure at being offered an elevated role in front of all of Lumnos—or at least the only half of Lumnos he gave a damn about. He brushed past me without a word and sank into one of the thrones, followed shortly by Remis.

“Thank you,” I mouthed to Luther.

He flashed me a barely there smile that had me momentarily transfixed. I was still so unaccustomed to this charming, unguarded side of him. Each glimpse behind the curtain left me more confused than ever.

His ironclad wall reappeared a beat later, and his features wiped away to his trademark blank slate. As he guided me to the family’s general seating, his hand moved to my back, causing his palm to slide under my hair and skim my exposed skin.

The intimate contact took us both by surprise, at least if his sharp inhale was any indication. I nearly tripped on the long hem of my gown, and his other hand shot out and gripped my hand. Warmth flooded my body as he leaned me against his side to hold me steady.

“I’m off to a brilliant start,” I joked, my voice a little hoarse.

“You’re doing great,” he murmured, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. With a tender press at my back, he led me to a row of tufted settees where Taran sat with an empty space beside him. Luther glanced at him and made a jerking motion with his chin.

Taran groaned. “Listen, Your Majesty, I like you and all, but...” He inclined his head to the side, where the only other open seat was beside his brother Aemonn. “Please don’t make me do it.”

“Not in the mood for family bonding?” I teased.

He smiled wickedly. “I’d rather bond with you. In private.”

“Taran,” Luther warned.

I halted him with a laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of causing any family drama,” I purred, which Taran answered with a snort. “I’ll sit with Aemonn.”

I started to leave. Luther’s hand snaked around my hip, holding me in place.

“We’ll make room,” he said quickly. “You’re small, and I’ll be at the podium for half the ceremony as it is.”

I’d never been calledsmallin my life—in the mortal world I was always too tall, too covered in muscles and curves—but as I nestled between the two hulking male demigods that were Luther and Taran, I felt almost petite.

The funeral ceremony began as Remis and Garath took turns droning on at a raised podium at the edge of the dais about the King’s legacy. A device provided by the technologically advanced realm of Sophos amplified their voices through the arena, though the crowd paid them little attention. Conversation hummed at a dull roar, and even in the royal box, the Corbois continued to laugh and mingle freely.

I tried to focus, though as time wore on, I began to squirm—as much as I could between the trunk-like thighs and brawny arms of the two men shoved against me.

Taran leaned back and sprawled his arm across the top of the settee to give me some breathing room. “So Your Majesty, how does it feel to be sandwiched between two handsome, single Corbois Princes?”

“Taran,” Luther warned, shooting him a look.

Taran ignored him. “A lot of women would pay good money for that, you know. Though there would be far less clothing involved. And less of a crowd.” He leaned in close to me. “Unless having an audience is your thing.”

“Show some respect,” Luther barked. “She’s your Queen.”

Taran gave an exaggerated eyeroll. “We get someone young and interesting as the Crown, and you’re not going to let me tease her even a little bit? Besides, she likes it.” Taran nudged my leg with his knee. “You like it, right?”

Luther sighed. “Just say the word and I’ll hang him upside down from the rafters.”

“Notagain,” Taran moaned.

I laughed and settled back into the cushions. “If Taran wants to boast that he can’t get a woman in bed unless there’s money involved, far be it for me to stop him.”

A half-smile broke through Luther’s facade, and Taran roared with laughter. His arm moved to my shoulders. “Sorry Lu, you’re out as my favorite cousin. I think I’m in love with this one.”

“SorryLu,” I echoed sweetly.

---