Page 27 of Dreams and Dragon Wings
His eyes grow heavy. Sad. “Giles is my best friend. I will marry you if I must, and we will live as mere companions until the Three-Faced One calls me home. You will inherit everything, of course. My estate. My fortune.”
He speaks so matter-of-factly about it all that I am left reeling when he finishes with, “But your mother and I want you to have every chance at happiness first before you settle for a loveless life like that. There are plenty of bachelors here unaware of the former gossip. You stand a good chance of catching someone’s eye.”
“Lord Reggie,” I whisper, my mind still spinning, trying to absorb it all. “I hardly know what to say.”
“Oh, don’t thank me,” he insists with one of his gilded smiles. “Thank your mother. It was all her idea.”
Love flares hot and bright in my chest as I glance about the crowded ballroom, hunting for Mama. I find her standing near the refreshment table, already in conversation. But when her eyes meet mine, she gifts me a warm, encouraging smile before turning back to her socializing.
Thank you, Mama.
“And look,” Reggie adds, amused, “it seems as if you have caught His Majesty’s special attention already.”
A disbelieving laugh bursts from me before I can stop it. “Oh, please,” I murmur, beyond certain he is teasing me. I can hardly believe I ever dreaded marrying this man. He is so terribly easy to talk to; I can see why Papa always adored him so.
But when I glance back His Majesty’s way, I see that Reggie is right.
My eyes again lock with the king’s. Heisstaring at me.
Yet again, I forget how to breathe, especially when King Friedemar suddenly jolts to his feet and strides straight past the line of ladies waiting to meet him, walking directly toward us.
Towardme.
“What should we do?” I ask, hating the way my voice nearly raises a full octave with the question.
What is happening?
Why is the king coming this way?
I suddenly wish I had a folding fan like some of the other ladies do. Or just… something—anything—to fidget with. I tug at the sleeves of my gown, no longer knowing what to do with my hands.
“Well, don’t panic,” Reggie drawls out of the side of his mouth while extracting a small golden box from his pocket. The sort of box most men would use to store their pipe tobacco.
He flips open the lid and extracts a red-and-white-striped candy instead. “Peppermint?” When I merely stare at him, he shrugs and pops the mint into his mouth before snapping the box shut and returning it to his pocket.
I track the king’s approach out of the corner of my eye. He is still coming this way, striding with purpose. A servant accompanies him, hurriedly whispering something into his ear.
I force a smile to my lips and look away. After a strained beat of silence, I pretend to laugh at something Lord Reggie just said, though he hasn’t said anything at all.
Reggie purses his lips. “Or perhaps youshouldpanic. Some men seem to like that sort of thing.” He narrows his eyes, considering me all over again. “Can you swoon on command?”
I blink. “What? Of course not.”
Reggie tsks, looking disappointed.
Before he can say another word, a new voice suddenly cuts through our conversation. A voice like the most luxurious swath of velvet—smooth and rich.
“Miss Aurelia Weaver, daughter of Giles and Mira Weaver, I presume?”
My heart hammers wildly against my ribs as I turn to find King Friedemar now looming over me, his steel-gray eyes boring into mine. I open my mouth, but no sound emerges.
Just breathe, I will myself.
I must remain calm. I dare not shine. Not here. Not now.
Bene’s amulet is still in my pocket.
Dare I slip it on now?
