And for you, for choosing someone who can’t even dance properly. For thinking I could do this.
Finn stepped on Darragh’s foot within the first three beats, exactly as predicted. Then he overcorrected and nearly tripped over his own feet. His timing was completely wrong - he kept anticipating the beats instead of feeling them. His gaze stayed locked on their feet, watching for the next inevitable disaster.
Everyone’s watching me fail. Everyone can see I don’t belong here.
“Stop thinking so hard,” Darragh said quietly.
“That’s impossible.” Because Finn’s brain wouldn’t shut up. It kept cataloging every mistake, every misstep, every proof that he wasn’t qualified for this role.
“Then look at me, not our feet.”
Finn forced himself to look up, meeting Darragh’s eyes. His husband was smiling - not the polite court smile he used for diplomats, but the real one. The one that made Finn’s chest feel tight and warm at the same time.
He’s not embarrassed. He’s not disappointed. He’s just...here with me.
Darragh pulled him closer - much closer than protocol probably allowed for a public dance. Their chests pressed together, and Finn’s hand tightened reflexively on Darragh’s shoulder. The formal distance collapsed into something intimate, something real, and Finn felt his stiff posture start to relax despite the audience surrounding them.
“Feel better?” Darragh murmured.
“Yes, but your advisers are going to have a fit.” Finn could practically feel Helena’s disapproval from across the room.
“It’s our wedding day. We can do what we like.”
Our wedding day.The words settled over Finn like a blanket. This morning, he’d been Lord Finn, fifth son of an earl, someone of no real consequence. Now he was King Consort Finn, married to a man who looked at him like he hung the stars, dancing in front of the entire court.
How did I get here?
They swayed together, barely moving their feet now. It wasn’t proper dancing - nothing like the formal waltzes Finn had watched from the edges of society gatherings. Just two men holding each other while music played around them. Finn’s breathing gradually slowed, his body relaxing fully against Darragh’s, and for just a moment, he forgot about the crown and the titles and the hundreds of people watching.
For just a moment, it was only them.
Maybe I can do this. Maybe not perfectly, but...maybe that’s okay.
“The crown’s still on,” Finn whispered, surprised.
“I told you that it would stay.”
“You were right about a lot of things,” Finn said softly.
“I usually am.” The smug satisfaction in Darragh’s voice made Finn laugh.
The sound surprised him - open and unforced, even here in front of everyone. Around them, other couples had joined the dance floor, giving them blessed cover. The spotlight had shifted away, and Finn could breathe easier.
We made it through. I didn’t completely humiliate us.
The music eventually faded. Applause filled the hall, and Finn stepped back, knowing his face had to be flushed. The crown had shifted again - he could feel it sitting slightly askew. Darragh reached up and adjusted it, his fingers lingering against Finn’s temple with a gentleness that made Finn’s heart skip.
In that small gesture, Finn saw his future. Of Darragh helping him adjust his crown, literally and metaphorically, helping him stumble his way through formal events and protocol he didn’t understand, always with Darragh steady beside him.
I’m married. I’m the king consort. This is my life now.
The thought should have terrified him. Instead, when he looked at Darragh’s face, Finn felt something quietly push his worry aside. It wasn’t confidence exactly - he was still absolutely certain he’d make a thousand mistakes. But maybe...acceptance. Darragh accepted him the way he was and somehow, he’d figure everything else out.
“Can we escape yet?” Finn asked under his breath, suddenly desperate to be alone with his husband.
“Not yet, unfortunately. Give it another hour and we can go.”
An hour felt like forever, but Finn nodded. He could manage one more hour. He’d managed the ceremony, the receiving line, the dinner, the dance. What was one more hour of smiling and nodding and pretending he knew what he was doing?
