A Queen of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 4)

They were going to be the best royal couple in history, I just knew it.

Taking his time, not worried about the attention directed toward them, Nyfain skimmed his lips up before placing another kiss to the other side of her mouth, and then followed the same trail on this side until his second lingering kiss was on the other mark.

Her hands drifted up his chest and around his shoulders as his lips returned to hers. His eyes feasted on her face, their bodies humming with power and fire. Finally, slowly, methodically, he pressed a soft, sweet kiss to her lips.

When he pulled back this time, he said softly, “You look stunning, sweetheart. You’re an absolute vision.”

She smiled at him, love-struck, her eyes a little misty.

His gaze flicked back and forth between her eyes, a little crease forming between his brows.

“Your eyes…have changed color. There’s some gold in them now.”

“There is?” she asked, reaching up to wipe away the color that had transferred to his lips.

His smile stretched as he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Yes. Come on. Let’s let the servants get to gossiping.”

Her little giggle was sweet and very unlike her. It was amazing what love could do to a person. She waited until he turned, hooking his arm onto her hip, before stepping down next to him. They took the last step onto the ground floor together, and she threaded her fingers between his where they rested on her hip.

It was only then Finley looked around. She paused, not letting the prince start forward yet, and nodded to Micah, off to the side. Then Tamara, dressed in battle gear and probably just off duty from watching the demon prisoners. Weston also got a nod, which he returned, and the faeries leaning over the banister earned a smile.

As they finally walked forward, Finley nodded and said hello to several staff members in passing. The prince walked beside her, following her gaze but saying nothing. The crowd watched her depart, many with smiles, some blotting tears, and a few with tense postures that suggested they were thinking about battle. About what she stood for.

Leala and I were fucking geniuses.

It wasn’t until that moment of congratulating myself that I noticed the former queen. She stood ahead of them, having just entered from a wide doorway. Her expression mirrored her son’s stoicism. The lady-in-waiting was slightly behind her, as was the tradition for the royals and aristocracy of the past. A fine dress hugged her curves and jewelry twinkled along her neck, on her wrists, and circled a few of her fingers. Her posture was stately and reserved. She hadn’t aged a day. And while she was still in her prime, her magnificence paled in comparison to the couple that had just passed and gone before her. She spoke of the past, of an ideal that had fallen by the wayside. Of a full staff, impeccably trained, and a castle with actual fucking light bulbs so we wouldn’t have to eat by candlelight.

She didn’t fit in today’s harsh climate, and it showed.

I hurried down the stairs so I could get in front of her. I wanted to see if I could sneak into the dining room and continue to watch. I was no longer worried about my girl. Now I just wanted to see the fireworks.

TEN

Finley

“I’m sorry for having you dress in separate quarters,” Nyfain said in a low voice as we made our way to the dining room. “I wanted that entrance for you. Hadriel assured me that you would enrapture everyone, but…” He took a deep breath. “I will remember the image of you walking toward me just now for the rest of my life. It stole my breath.”

My heart heated. “I’m not going to be as eloquent when I say that you are incredibly handsome.”

He squeezed my fingers where our hands were still joined at my hip. “Eloquence often gets in the way of truth. Hearing you say that, knowing how I look, and feeling that you actually believe it…” He leaned over and kissed my temple. “It is everything.”

The doors stood open with two black-suited staff members standing at attention on either side, one with pants too long and the other swimming in his pressed shirt. Inside, the candles glimmered, sparkling across the beautiful glassware and against the laid-out silver. Three places were set at the right end of the table, two on one side and the other across from them.

“Since I’m not officially king and we are in limbo before the coronation, my mother technically has higher status.” He took his arm from my waist and pulled out my chair. “She would therefore sit at the head of the table. Given the current…situation, I thought this was the better option.”

“And we can’t do the coronation until we’re ready to go to the council meeting?”