Page 113 of A War of Crowns

It was the Crow who finally broke the lingering silence between them when next he demanded, “I want our wedding to take place on your birthday.”

She couldn’t help but recoil from the abruptness of his declaration. “What?” Seraphina breathed, eyes widening with her disbelief. “You just said you are my enemy and now you speak of our wedding?”

He looked back her way and snarled, “By your own design, we are bound by ade factobetrothal. We must marry sooner or later.”

“Why not later?” she countered at once.

But he gave her no quarter. “And why not sooner?”

Seraphina stole another glance toward her Queensguard, who lingered nearby, though at a respectful distance. She could practicallytaste the tense energy crackling off of Sir Arkwright while he watched them bicker.

“It takes time to plan a wedding,” she hedged, wetting her lips. “My birthday simply isn’t enough time.”

He narrowed his eye. “Before Wintertide, then.”

“We can consider it,” Seraphina hedged further. “Discuss it further with my Privy Council.”

“Perhaps I should write to my brother if the idea of a Wintertide wedding doesn’t appeal,” the Crow suggested in his painfully deep and grating voice. “I’m sure he would be interested to hear about these latest objections to you upholding your end of our marital contract.”

Seraphina’s jaw tightened when she asked, “And what happened to this nonsense about you not being the sort of man to offer threats?”

“Do not mistake me, kirei,” the Crow rumbled without pause. “These words are no threat.” In the wake of those words, his one-eyed gaze suddenly dragged from her own in favor of searching her face. For what, she couldn’t even begin to fathom.

His single, dark eye scorched a trail across her brow, her cheeks, her mouth. Beneath the weight of his latest bout of scrutiny, Seraphina steeled herself—refusing to shy away.

Let him look, if he wished. Perhaps her visage might yet haunthisdreams.

It took longer than she would have liked, though, for his attention to finally return to her own gaze.

But when it did, he gifted her a final snarl of, “They are a promise.”

Chapter thirty-two

Tiberius

The evening of the queen’s birthday saw Tiberius striding alone through the corridors of the palace. Not a single person stopped him to say hello as he made his way toward the ballroom for the festivities. Not a single courtier attempted to flatter him or curry favor.

There was no point to it all now. He no longer had the queen’s ear.

He was no longer herfavorite.

That part didn’t chafe so much, though. Finally being above the shadow of the rumor he was Seraphina de la Croix’s lover certainly held some appeal.

Whatdidchafe was the fact he had been replaced by that…littlebeastwho dared callhimself a prince.

It was laughable, really, that anyone at all thought Aldric Hargrave might be a suitable replacement for him.

When Tiberius finally stepped into the ballroom, he hunted for any sign of thatCrow. But when he did not see him amongst the other revelers, some tension eased from his shoulders. He hadn’t been in the mood to deal with the other man’s nonsense.

A good deal more relaxed, Tiberius took a turn about the room.

The space was decorated in the soft hues of a summer field for the occasion of the queen’s thirtieth birthday rather than the typical blue, gold, and white of House de la Croix. Lavender and sage swaths of silk draped from the vaulted ceiling. Flowers in similar shades flourished on every available surface. Sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filled the entire chamber, with a swell of music winging just above the hum of conversation.

Already, dancers glided across the floor, Her Majesty among them.

Tiberius’s steps slowed as he watched Seraphina sparkle beneath the light of the chandeliers—beauty personified in her high-necked gown of plum silk.

He only had time to note she was dancing with Sir Easome’s son, Lord Devon, before a hand clapped him on the shoulder in familiar greeting. Arching an eyebrow, Tiberius twitched his head to the side to see just who might have dared.

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