She was surrounded by the finance ministers she knew, plus a couple from other countries, all deep in conversation about something. The people in the ballroom swirled around her, some of them openly disapproving, but more than a few clearly intrigued.
Then, as he watched, Inara broke away from her little coterie and moved over to another group of people—ambassadors from France, from the looks of things. She shook their hands, not bothering to wait for her aide to introduce her, and smiled, exchanging a few words then moving on. She did this a number of times, and then stopped as someone else joined her group and another deep, intense conversation ensued.
His heart felt so tight he couldn’t breathe.
She wasn’t in the crown or the gown, and she’d arrived early and hadn’t waited for him. She was clearly without an aide to introduce her, and as for the schedules...they were apparently long gone.
She wasn’t at all the queen he’d wanted or the queen he’d expected. She was...better. She was warm and human and approachable. The gown she wore was simple and yet elegant, flowing around her like water. She looked young and carefree and so heartbreakingly beautiful that the entire world stood still.
The usher saw him standing there transfixed and announced him immediately. It took him a couple of moments to realise that everyone was staring at him and that he hadn’t moved because he was too busy staring at Inara.
She turned with everyone else and her lovely face broke into the most incredible smile. Without waiting for him to come to her or for an aide to approach, she marched straight through the crowd and up the stairs. Then she took his hand as if he was merely her lover and not the King, her warm fingers threading through his, and led him down into the crowds.
He knew he should stop her. He should pull her hand from his and insist on the proper protocols, insist that they needed to adhere to the schedule and the timing, because this was a formal event. There were heads of state here and he needed to set an example. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. A part of him was captivated by his lovely wife, and curious to see what she would do and what would happen next.
So he let Inara set the example.
He’d always found royal duties interminable and difficult, something to endure instead of enjoy, but tonight it felt different. It was Inara who led him round instead of his aide, approaching people and asking their names without caring that a queen should already know.
And what was even more surprising was that people didn’t seem to mind. She was artless, utterly without guile, completely open and honest. Sometimes awkward, but laughing at herself too, and he could see how that put people at their ease. He had no idea why she’d ever thought she wasn’t good at the social stuff, because if anything it was the opposite.
She put something inside him at ease too, a tightly leashed part of himself he never let out. And before he knew what was happening, he was smiling and talking to people as if he was still that prince, the charming one who’d always known what to say to make himself the life of the party.
People responded. He could see it in their faces. And soon he and Inara were surrounded, with more people coming over to talk with them, schedules out of the window, no distance, no formality.
His father would have been appalled.
But as the evening went on Cassius couldn’t bring himself to care. Inara’s hand was warm inside his, her presence beside him bright and beautiful, and he didn’t want to let that hand go. He didn’t want her to leave his side. Once or twice he glanced at her to find her looking back, her eyes shining with an emotion that made his heart ache.
Much later, an aide approached them, informing them that they were due to make their appearance on the balcony. As that was one formality they couldn’t ignore, he found himself leading Inara from the ballroom and through the corridors to the formal reception room that opened out onto the balcony.
‘Why?’ he asked quietly as several palace employees began to prepare the room. ‘Why did you do all of this?’ He didn’t elaborate; she’d know what he meant.
Her fingers tightened around his. ‘I wanted you to see that you could do something differently. That you didn’t have to follow your father’s example. That you could do things your way.’ She shifted closer, looking up at him, a fierce light in her eyes. ‘That you could create a legacy that’s yours, that isn’t bound by anyone else’s protocols or idea of what’s right and proper. A legacy that’s about you and the kind of king you want to be.’
He’d never thought about it in that way before, and it struck him all of a sudden that it was because he’d never really viewed the role of king as his before. It had always been about his father or his brother. A position he’d taken almost as a caretaker of their memory, not something he could put his own stamp on.
But...he could, couldn’t he?
Just as Inara had put her own stamp on being a queen.
They’re dead because of you, though. Can you really dishonour their legacy like that?
It was true they were dead and, yes, because of him. But was it really such a dishonour to do things differently? To be the kind of king he wanted to be, not what his father had been or his brother would have been?
Cassius lifted her hand and pressed his mouth against the back of it, then they were stepping forward to the balcony that overlooked the central city square, the sound of the crowd rolling over them.
He felt Inara tremble beside him, but he lifted her hand and held it out, showing her to his people, and smiled. Cameras everywhere beamed that smile to screens set up around the square and to TVs all over the nation, just as they beamed the approving roar of the crowd.
Adrenalin filled him, a surge of hope he hadn’t felt in far too long. Hope that soon turned into something hotter and more joyful, centred on the woman who’d brought him to this point.
His queen. His Inara.
They stepped back from the balcony, and as soon as the doors were closed, and the shutters across the windows pulled tight, Cassius dismissed everyone from the room.
Then he turned to her, glowing and beautiful in her blue gown, and gently but surely pushed her up against the balcony doors.
She didn’t protest. Her lovely face was flushed, her eyes still shining, looking at him as if he was the only thing worth looking at in the entire world.
‘They loved you,’ he said softly. ‘I knew they would.’
But this time she didn’t smile.
‘What about you?’ Her voice sounded hoarse. ‘Do you love me too?’