“I’ll lead the way, my queen,” Weston says, taking a step toward me, but I react, holding my hands out to halt him.
“No. No. You can stay here and wait. I will have someone collect you after.”
He shakes his head. “As you are aware, the First Guard has a role in the ceremony, and since that is my position, I will be going in with you.”
I gawk at him in disbelief, and the hold I had on my heavily practiced queenly decorum snaps. “Who do you think you are, showing up here and demanding to take part? You don’t even know what to do!”
“I’ll explain,” Signee calls out from the side of the room, and my eyes shoot daggers at her for her quick betrayal.
“It’s for your protection, my queen.” The depth of his voice sends shivers down my spine, and I hope no one can see how affected I am by it. “I will not let you walk into a room filled with representatives from other kingdoms completely unguarded.”
“Fine,” I grind out, my teeth clenched tightly as I try to figure out how much time we have spent in here, leaving everyone in the throne room waiting.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Weston grunts, and I roll my eyes, no longer caring if my response to his challenging nature looks bad to anyone around.
“What could I possibly be forgetting after you show up unannounced and force your way into my court?” I snap.
Burning sparks in my chest when his smirk expands into a dazzling smile.
“My oath? You can’t have a First Guard complete his duty without swearing it.”
I clench my teeth because I know he’s right, and the fact that he looks so content to have bested me makes my blood boil. Giving him a curt nod, I track his movements as his hand hovers over the hilt of his sword, his head tilting in the first acknowledgement of needing my permission before he draws his weapon.
“Yes, fine, just make it quick,” I say, and his sword sings as he pulls it from the sheath.
Weston steps forward, eliminating almost all the space between us as he digs the point of the blade into the stone floor and sinks to one knee. My breath catches in my throat when he looks up at me, his expression filled with something I can’t quite place, and I feel my irritation lessen slightly.
“I, Weston Rowe,” he starts, and any noise in the entrance hall dims as my body squares with his, as if on its own. “Pledge my service to the kingdom of Blackwood. I give my sword, my body, my life…” He pauses, swallowing hard, but still holding my gaze. “Everything…to my queen. I swear my loyalty to her, Lennox Holt, and vow to stay by her side, no matter what she commands, however or whenever she will have me, despite her duty or her choice, until the breath stills in my lungs.”
The breath stills in my lungs, and I barely notice the hand I have pressed against my chest, over my heart.
“Long live the queen.”
My chest heaves, and my body feels paralyzed as I’m pinned to this spot by his smoldering gaze and scorching voice. Lips parting slightly, I know if I try to speak, my voice might not cooperate. But I have to say something.
“Those aren’t the words.”
“Those are the words, my queen.”
I don’t know how long we stay like this, locked in a heated trance that makes the rest of my worries and responsibilities fall away. It breaks the moment he rises from his bent knee, his tall, broad frame towering over me so I have to crane my neck to look at him.
“One more thing.” Weston reaches into the belt at his back, and the slice of metal rings through the air. I gasp as he closes the remaining distance between us, stepping forward, his armor-clad body no doubt poised to attack.
I knew I couldn’t trust him. I should have listened to my years of training. He’s going to kill me before my coronation. The story, the letter, the oath—it was all a ruse to get close to the queen.
He extends a blade in front of him, and before I can even think, I move. Wrapping my hand around his wrist, I wrench it down and slide the hilt of the weapon into my fingers, flipping the blade in my hand so it’s ready to strike.
But I don’t strike.
I stare.
I’ve never moved like that before. I never truly learned how to use a dagger before Brynne disappeared. But it isn’t just the movements that have caught me completely off guard.
My eyes widen and my mouth falls open as I take in the hilt that rests on my palm and the glitter of the sharp blade that points at Weston’s abdomen.
My dagger.
He hadmydagger.
My head snaps up, and the dazzling grin that spreads across his face makes my chest squeeze and my heart race. I look up at his sparkling and heated gaze, but notice he doesn’t at all look surprised.
His voice drops, low enough so only I can hear it, and my knees threaten to collapse as he leans forward ever so slightly.
“There she is.”
