The words registered slowly.Send him off on some remote ambassador mission.Because Finn could do that now. He was the king consort. He had actual authority to make decisions that affected people’s lives.
I could actually make a difference here. Not just fixing one roof or one door, but changing things for entire villages. For the whole kingdom.
The thought was simultaneously thrilling and absolutely terrifying.
Finn burst out laughing, the sound surprising him. “Oh, my goodness, that’s right. I can do that now.”
Darragh’s expression shifted to something pleased and proud, and Finn felt his heart do that stupid fluttering thing it had been doing since before the proposal. The meal continued with course after course - fish, roasted meats, fresh bread, seasonal vegetables prepared six different ways, and fancy desserts that were ornate but truly delicious.
Finn tried to taste it all, tried to appreciate the work that had gone into creating the feast, but his mind kept wandering. Every few minutes, someone would approach the table with congratulations or well-wishes, and he’d have to smile and nod and pretend he knew what he was doing.
I’m a fraud. They’re all going to figure it out eventually.
But then Darragh’s fingers would brush against his under the table, warm and solid, or his husband would lean close enough that Finn could smell the wine on his breath and murmur something about Lord Whoever’s ridiculous hat, and Finn’s chest would loosen. His breathing would even out. The crown on his head would feel a little less heavy.
This. This is why I said yes.
The crown kept slipping. Just slightly, enough that Finn had to adjust it every few minutes. Each time he did, he caught someone watching - a council member, a noble, one of Darragh’s advisers - judging whether he measured up. Whether he deserved to wear that crown at all.
Probably not. But I’m wearing it anyway.
“You’re doing great,” Darragh murmured, so quietly only Finn could hear.
“I can’t stop adjusting my crown. It keeps slipping like it’s trying to escape.”
“It’s a crown, not a trained falcon. If it falls off, it rolls on the floor, but it won’t go far.” Darragh squeezed his hand. “You’re handling everything perfectly.”
I’m faking it. I’m terrified. I have no idea what I’m doing.
But Finn just smiled and nodded to another well-wisher who approached with congratulations.
Then the musicians struck up the first waltz, and Aldric announced, “Their Majesties will take the floor.”
Every muscle in Finn’s body went rigid. “Oh, no.”
This was it. This was the moment he’d been dreading since the wedding planning started. The formal first dance, where everyone would watch him make a complete fool of himself in front of the entire court. Where his complete lack of training would be on full display for nobles and diplomats and everyone who’d ever questioned whether the king had made the right choice.
I’m going to humiliate him. I’m going to step on his feet and stumble and prove I don’t belong here.
“Yes.” Darragh stood and offered his hand, looking completely unbothered by the impending disaster. “You said you could dance, just not formally, but this is a tradition, and no one will mind if you miss a few steps.”
A few steps. Finn would be lucky if he managed three steps without tripping over his own feet.
“Darragh.” Finn grabbed hold of his hand and leaned closer, keeping his voice low and urgent. “I meant it when I said I didn’t know the formal steps. The only dancing I’ve ever done is in a tavern, where the only requirement is that you didn’t slop any beer on the floor.”
“This will be easier then,” Darragh chuckled, and Finn wanted to strangle him for being so calm about this. “You can leave your wine glass on the table.”
“This is going to be a disaster.” But Finn let Darragh pull him to his feet anyway, because what choice did he have? Running from the hall screaming would probably be worse than stepping on the king’s feet.Though not by much.
The guests formed a circle around them, smiling expectantly. Hundreds of eyes watching. Judging. Waiting to see if the king’s unusual choice of consort could even manage a simple dance.
I can’t do this. I’m going to fail right here, right now, in front of everyone.
The music swelled, beautiful and complicated, and Finn’s heart hammered against his ribs. Darragh positioned Finn’s hand on his shoulder and took his other hand in his, and the warmth of that touch was the only thing keeping Finn from bolting.
“Just follow my lead,” Darragh said quietly.
“I mean it. I feel sorry for your boots.”
