Page 60 of Crown of Iron
A bright, wide smile consumes my sister's face, and a tinge of annoyance at her disregard for my uncertainty bubbles within me. I don’t have time to dwell on it.
“Hi, Leif,” she says, gazing over my shoulder and batting her eyelashes.
My best friend strolls to my side, dressed in dark gray trousers and a soft gray jacket with elegant golden embellishments along the lapel. His hazel eyes sparkle in a way I now know is only customary when he’s home, and his lips pull into a smirk, causing a dimple on one cheek.
“Good evening, Salone,” he says, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. “You look pretty.”
Her cheeks burn the same pink as her frilly dress and she bashfully replies, “Thank you, and you look handsome.”
I struggle not to roll my eyes at the way she fawns over him before she enters the dining room, leaving me with my escort.
“Nervous?” Leif asks.
“Someone could have warned me that half the kingdom would be here tonight.”
He loops my arm through his. “Where's the fun in that?”
“My misery brings you too much happiness.”
“You're not alone in your misery this time. For once, there’s somewhere else I'd rather be.”
He doesn't need to explain himself. I saw him saying goodbye to Wel, and it tore me in two. I’m happy that he’s found someone he cares for and upset because his duty to me pulled them apart.
Leif tilts my face toward his. “Come on, shoulders back, chin up, and smile. We must dazzle the court.”
“Of course,” I say with a fake smile.
The dining room falls into a low mumble as Leif and I enter. I focus on the elaborate scarlet, tangerine, and plum flower arrangement in the center of the long walnut table, avoiding the ogling of the king's court. The different-sized candles staggered throughout the large room feel too bright, like they’re spotlighting all my imperfections and exposing my deceit. I fight not to bow my head and shake the feeling that every extravagantly dressed person in this room thinks I'm unworthy of the status gifted to me.
A server walks by with a tray of wine, and I grab a glass and bring it to my lips. Over the crystal rim, I catch sight of a familiar figure dressed in all black. Kyron stands in the far corner of the room surrounded by a group of women. I don't blame them. If I thought he looked handsome in his formal officer's uniform, he’s breathtaking in a tailored suit. Unlike the rest of the men in the room, he decided against a high-collared shirt or ascot, leaving the top of his white shirt unbuttoned and covering it with a black vest under a matching jacket. An unruly strand of ebony hair brushes against his long lashes, and his artificial light brown eyes lock with mine.
My fingers curl around Leif's arm, holding me upright as my stomach somersaults. Kyron tilts his head in a slight nod and his gift greets mine with a soft caress. No matter how many Khiros are around, his power always radiates stronger than anyone else's, and it makes me weak in the knees.
“Your Grace, I trust your time at the coast was relaxing. A well-deserved holiday before you delve into your new responsibilities.”
I yank my gaze away from Kyron and find the Secretary of Coin, a middle-aged man with graying temples and wire-rimmed glasses, standingbefore me.
Leif nudges me with his elbow, and I respond, “It was, thank you.”
“How was the weather there? This isn't my favorite time of year to?—”
The guards at the dining room doors stomp and clap their hands at their sides, taking a formal stance and alerting the room that the king is near. I thank the Statera for the interruption as everyone hurries to stand behind their chairs. When Micah and Borin enter arm in arm, every head bows until the king and his husband stand at the head of the table.
Micah takes a moment to look at each person, courtier and staff alike, and says, “Tonight, we celebrate the return of our future queen and the start of a new dawn for our kingdom. We have much to be grateful for, including those who selflessly serve our people.” Micah raises a goblet of wine. “To the bright future of Lucent.”
Everyone raises their glass in agreement, sips the red wine, and takes a seat. The serving staff enters the room with wooden platters of my favorite foods. Caught in the middle of Leif, Micah, and their constant military chatter, I focus on my plate, hoping to avoid any conversation about my “holiday.”
“Your Grace, have you met General LeFur?”
I glance across the table at a short, curvy woman with a round face covered in freckles. She’s the Secretary of Coin's wife. She sits happily between her husband and Kyron. Leaning closer to the general, she places her palm on his bicep, and I don't miss how her fingertips dig into the fabric of his jacket, feeling his defined muscle. I fight back a smile at the way Kyron gives her hand a gentle squeeze and places it next to her plate.
“No ma'am, I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting our fine general,” I lie.
“Please call me Kyron, Your Grace. And the pleasure is mine.”
I push my gift across the table and nudge him gently in the chest. One side of his lips pulls up as he watches the wine swish in his glass. So many little secrets belong to only us.
“He's a looker, this one. He’ll make some young lady a
