Liora tilted her head. “That’s accurate.”
“I thought so.”
Thaleia reached for another garment, this one darker and sleeker, the fabric catching the light like liquid shadow. “We can absolutely work with that.” She draped it over a nearby stand and smiled at Liora’s reflection.
“Trust me,” the lamia said warmly. “We’ll make you look incredible.”
Liora glanced at the growing collection of outfits. Somehow…what was supposed to be a quick formality had turned into an entire production. By the time they finished with her hair and makeup, she barely recognized herself.
Her hair had been swept back into something that looked effortless but had clearly taken forty-five minutes and at least three enchanted combs. Dark liner sharpened her eyes just enough to give them that dangerous edge she usually preferred, while the rest of the makeup stayed surprisingly subtle.
Even she had to admit it looked good.
She’d just slipped into the first outfit, a casual one Thaleia had calledthe approachable look, which apparently meant dark fitted pants, a structured jacket, and boots that looked both stylish and capable of kicking someone if necessary, when she heard Thaleia’s voice ring out across the dressing area.
“Oh! You’re here!”
Liora turned and froze.
Maldenis was headed toward them.
He looked exactly as unfairly attractive as usual, in a dark shirt, sleeves rolled up, red hair slightly tousled, as if someone had run their hands through it one too many times. But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the group walking behind him.
Cameras. Lights. A boom microphone. Someone holding a tablet and whispering instructions to another person.
She stared. “…What?”
Maldenis caught her eye as he approached. There was something in his expression, an almost apologetic flicker mixed with that usual confident charm. And then he gave her a look. A very clear look.
Just go with it.
She blinked. She did not, in fact, go with it. She just stood there. Completely dumbfounded.
He closed the distance between them smoothly, as if this entire situation were perfectly normal. He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’ll explain later,” he murmured under his breath.
Then, slightly louder, “Smile for the camera.”
Before she could react, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her gently against his side. The contact sent a sharp jolt through her, warm and steady, and his scent wrapped around her before she could block it out. It felt…right. Too right.Her breath caught, her body betraying her for a split second while her brain scrambled to catch up with what was happening. A camera light flashed.
She forced what she hoped looked like a neutral smile and not the expression of someone being slowly ambushed by a media circus.
He turned slightly so they both faced the small group gathered around them. “Everyone,” he said smoothly, “this is Liora.”
He gestured toward a tall harpy standing near the front of the group. Her feathers were glossy black with streaks of silver, and she held a small recording crystal in one clawed hand.
“This is Calyra,” he continued. “She writes forLifting the Vale.”
The harpy gave Liora a bright, sharp-toothed smile. “The celebrity desk,” she added cheerfully.
Liora’s brain stalled again. “…Celebrity.”
His arm tightened slightly around her waist, subtle but unmistakably grounding. He leaned just close enough for only her to hear. “Remember,” he murmured, “smile.” Then he looked back at the harpy.
“We’re very happy to cover the occasion,” Calyra’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, Valefolk are curious about this union.”
Liora stared straight ahead.
Union.
