Page 31 of Vows to a King
The sky was a brilliant blue, the May sun casting a golden glow over the capital city as Jemima arrived at the main plaza—a sprawling open space surrounded by ancient buildings, with the palace looming majestically in the background. Banners and flags waved in the gentle breeze, adding color and movement to the scene. A large crowd had gathered, filling the air with a buzz of anticipation and excitement.
She took her place on the roof of the plaza, her eyes scanning the sea of faces below. The entire kingdom seemed to have turned out for the air show, a tribute by Adonis to Adamos. The plaza was alive with noise—children laughing, vendors calling out their wares, and the buzzing hum of conversations. Yet, amidst the clamor, a sense of solemnity lingered.
When the crowd’s attention shifted to her, Jemima wore her practiced smile and waved, feeling wholly like a fake.
She was their Queen now.
But first in her mind, she was Adonis’s wife. He hadn’t even kissed her at the hurried wedding, and whatever real foundation she’d imagined between them suddenly felt like a pipe dream.
The sound of engines roaring to life pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up, her breath catching in her throat as she spotted the sleek fighter jets cutting through the sky.
Adonis had planned this air show himself, a gesture of remembrance for his brother. She knew how much Adamos had meant to him, despite the fact that they hadn’t seen each other in so long.
The crowd’s excitement peaked as the jets climbed higher, their silver bodies glinting in the sunlight.
Jemima’s heart raced with a mix of awe and fear.
Adonis was up there, leading the formation. She had heard stories of his daring feats as a fighter pilot, but seeing him in action was an entirely different experience.
The jets performed a series of breathtaking maneuvers, looping and twisting in perfect synchrony. The crowd gasped and cheered with each daring stunt. Jemima’s eyes never left Adonis’s jet, admiration and anxiety knotting in her chest. He was so close to the edge, pushing the limits of what seemed possible. She feared for his safety, yet couldn’t help but be captivated by his skill and courage.
As the jets flew in a tight formation, drawing a heart in the sky with their contrails, Jemima felt a pang of sorrow. She wondered if he would ever open to her truly, about his grief over Adamos, about the wound his father fueled even now.
The final stunt was the most daring of all—a vertical climb followed by a sudden nosedive, pulling up just before hitting the ground. The crowd held its breath as Adonis executed the maneuver flawlessly.
The plaza erupted in applause and cheers, a thunderous tribute to the fallen prince and the skill of his brother.
When it was time for her to leave the plaza and greet him in public for the first time since his coronation, Jemima found her hands were trembling, her emotions a tangled mess. Her heart seemed to have permanently lodged in her throat, cutting off her breath.
She was proud of Adonis, awed by his bravery, yet terrified by the risks he took. Their marriage was nothing but a partnership born out of necessity. He kept reminding her of that through his actions, and yet, she couldn’t keep her heart from weaving around his magnetic presence.
Clearly, the man was going to make zero changes to his lifestyle, just because he was married or because he was the damned King upon whom millions depended. Maybe she could ask him for lessons on how to harden herself.
As the jets returned to the ground and Adonis climbed out of his cockpit, the crowd surged forward, eager to congratulate their new king.
Jemima watched him, her heart aching with confusion and longing. He was a hero to the people of Thalassos, a symbol of strength and resilience. But to her, he was an enigma, a man she barely understood.
Adonis made his way through the crowd, his eyes searching for her. When their gazes finally met, Jemima felt a flicker of connection, a reminder of the bond they had been braiding in the past two weeks. But today—the somber wedding, the coronation and now this stunt of his—proved that it was tenuous at best.
As he approached, she forced a smile, determined to play her part, especially in front of his adoring public. “That was incredible, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
His thigh pressed against hers, as security created a tight bubble around them, keeping the screaming public at bay behind steel barricades.
Jemima jerked at the contact, feeling as if burned. How foolish had she been to think she would become at least a factor he would consider in his life…
Nothing and no one would tame him, remember?
Adonis quirked a brow at her plastic politeness and her panic to put distance between them. “Thank you, Jemima. Although I must say I’m used to much more effusive welcomes after such an exhilarating stunt.”
“I’m not your groupie, Your Majesty, but your queen. It is possible you might have forgotten the little fact since you would barely meet my eyes during the ceremony.”
“Is that a complaint I hear, Jem? Did you want a week of festivities, a princess’s ball gown, and an enchanted ball?”
“You will not shame me for expecting the minimum out of this life, Adonis. As for the stunt—”
“It was for Adamos,” he said, interrupting her.
She placed a hand on his arm as they reached the dais from where they would watch the rest of the coronation day festivities. “Is that what you tell yourself?”
