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“Curse the Celestial Divinities, don’t make me issue a decree.” He pulled her against him tighter, a daring look crossing his face as the corners of his lips tugged up. “I’d hate to take a wife like that.” He placed his golden crown on her head. “But I will order you to meet me at the altar if I have to.”

Ryn bit down on her lips and slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a sputtering laugh, but Xerxes peeled her fingers back off just as fast. He fought a boyish smile as he pressed his lips against hers, bringing warmth that made Ryn’s weak body burn with the strength of an army. His long, dark lashes brushed her temple when he kissed her cheek next, his exhale tickling her skin when he huffed in disbelief. “This is what I can’t handle with you. All the heart jerks and flutters and… Divinities, Ryn. You’re the real monster here.”

Ryn’s leg muscles gave out; she would have toppled if Xerxes’s arm wasn’t wrapped around her waist. “I’m still healing,” she said, smile fading at the tremor in her arms where she gripped the sleeves of his noble robe. “I’ll need more time to—”

Xerxes’s grunt cut her off. “I guess you still have the intelligence of a brick. Stubborn Adriel.” His arm came beneath her legs, and he scooped her up, dress and all, turning for the temple entrance. Ryn’s eyes widened, and she heard Heva yelp in the hall as Xerxes carried her through the pews and kicked against the door with his boot to knock. A soldier flung the door open from the outside, and Xerxes brought Ryn out into the sunlight. She gasped and turned her face away, hiding it in his chest when a crowd of people waiting out on the street pointed in question.

“Xerxes,” she whispered. “They’re all staring.”

“Get used to it, Maiden. It’ll be ten times worse at the parade tomorrow.”

One person cheered from the crowd. Ryn slowly peeked back, a breeze cooling her warm skin as she studied the faces of Per-Siana’s citizens. People smiled. They clapped.

Warmth burned behind Ryn’s eyes when a child began throwing fresh rose petals in delight and the child’s parents joined in. She heard it in the wind as people whispered the name Adassah Cahana down the roadways. She felt it in her bones when gold flags were raised in salute along with beige and navy-blue ones, all mixed together in a kaleidoscope of movement that spread down the Navy Road as more people gathered. Xerxes carried her to the palace like that, Folke rushing out the gates and falling into formation to hold the crowds back.

There were too many murmurs to catch, but Ryn heard one: “Commander Adassah is alive!”

Xerxes’s voice lifted past them. “You see them, right, Ryn?” He turned his face toward hers, his blue eyes glimmering in soft morning light. “Trust me, they won’t like you anymore if I have to issue a decree and force you to be their Queen.” His lips pulled into a smile, and Ryn’s fingers brushed the flute at her throat as they passed through the gate and into the palace gardens where the fragrance of fruit trees and fresh blossoms tickled her nose. The gates shut behind them, and Ryn looked up at someone waiting in the palace entrance.

Kai leaned against the silvery arch frame with his arms folded and a smirk like he’d heard all the noise in the streets and guessed they were coming.

Xerxes set Ryn on her feet at the foot of the stairs. He hadn’t allowed her to fetch shoes, so her bare toes hit soft grass and a few scattered rose petals. “I have a secret to tell you that I don’t want your snoopy cousin to hear,” he said, leaning in. He cupped his hand around Ryn’s ear, and he whispered, “You know I love you, right, Adassah?” Xerxes took her chin and turned her face toward his. Kai grimaced and angled away at the top of the stairs, and Ryn smirked.

“You’ve made that quite clear by now, Xerxes,” she said.

Xerxes tilted his head in thought. Then he added, “I’ve decided I’m calling you Adassah from now on. The people know you by your real name. So, I will too.”

The Victory Parade lit the whole kingdom from end to end. Provinces held their own celebrations with food distributed to every household, banners raised down the roads, and glitter raining from the heavens. Ryn’s palanquin had been tossed aside after Xerxes demanded she ride in his, threatening any organizer who might object.

The whole ride down the Navy Road and around the Mother City, he twirled the Gold Maiden’s mask in his fingers while laying back against a cushioned chair. “I’m starving,” he complained. “Is this over yet?” He huffed when none of the Folke carrying the palanquin answered. Then he started yanking off his armour. “It is far too hot for this. Do all these people want to watch their King die of heatstroke?”

Ryn stifled a laugh when two Folke ahead stole glances back at him as he tore apart his outfit. She left her armour on, every gold piece apart from the mask Xerxes possessively held. Burn Division Twelve marched behind, and when one of Xerxes’s shoulder plates tumbled from the palanquin, Faro scooped it up off the ground and stuck it on his own shoulder. Bastone rolled his eyes, but Heva snorted a laugh.

“Your people are staring, Xerxes,” General Reza said from his horse at the carrier’s side.

“Isn’t that the whole point of this horrid parade?” Xerxes said, tugging off his robe of nobility next and revealing a loose white tunic to the street, the top half not even buttoned up.

“Are you going to keep ripping everything off until they have to see you in your undergarments?” General Reza asked. “Your chest is showing. Do you want the ladies to faint?”

Xerxes cut him a look. Then he threw his last shoulder plate at the old man. It bounced off General Reza’s saddle and made the horse lurch off.

Ryn reached over and buttoned his shirt with quick fingers, and Xerxes relaxed, gazing out at the setting sun over the mountains. “You’re like a child, Xerxes,” Ryn remarked, poking the last button through the hole. “But I like you.” Her mouth spread into a smile as she smoothed down his collar at the top.

He grunted and glanced down at her handiwork, eyeing the fitted shirt. “Don’t say things that make me want to kiss you in front of all these people, Maiden. Didn’t you hear Reza? The ladies will faint.”

Ryn sighed and sat back against her cushion. She studied passing neighbourhoods, counting the streets to one that would take her toward the small community she’d lived in with Kai just one year ago. “I should bake you a pie to celebrate,” she said. “Since you love my baking so much. I’m curious—is picky eating a Weylin thing? Or just a spoiled King thing?”

“Adassah,” Xerxes warned. “Careful.”

When she glanced back, his arm was resting around the back of her seat, his body close, his blue gaze settling on her mouth. She broke into a smile, and that did it; Xerxes kissed her right there in the palanquin, in front of Burn Division Twelve, in front of the crowds who reacted so loudly, Ryn’s heart faltered.

A few chants burst from the frenzied mass of people. “The Gold Maiden! Queen of the Adriels!”

“The Weylin King should take an authentic Weylin wife!” One shout trickled in from a man at the roadside, and General Reza’s horse almost trampled his feet, making him yelp and stumble back into the crowd where his words were swallowed.

It still made Ryn flinch, her mouth freezing, and Xerxes’s finger brushed along her jaw until her eyelids peeled open. He looked back and forth between her eyes. Then he said, “We should invite that fellow to the wedding.”

Ryn laughed as a bouquet of flowers was tossed into the palanquin, rolling across the floor. Xerxes plucked one out and twirled it in his fingers as he gazed out at the people. And he didn’t say it, but the small pull at the edges of his mouth told Ryn that this moment was everything. The people’s devotion, his maiden at his side, his kingdom safe…