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Donning her black silk wrap, she took Stone’s arm. Once he was ready to leave, she moved them with a thought to the red carpet entrance of the Sterling Arms Hotel.
The Nine Realms wasn’t all that different from the U.S. and an event like a gala to celebrate the Federation of the Nine Realms was covered by every news outlet in each of the realms. Light bulbs flashed and reporters shouted questions.
“Queen Rosamunde, are you dating the Mastyr of Tannisford?” Since she was holding his arm she could hardly deny the connection, but she merely smiled and waved in response.
“Queen Rosamunde, why won’t you give an interview and tell us what you’ve been doing for a thousand years?”
This time she shrugged and smiled.
“Queen Rosamunde, why haven’t you helped the Nine Realms battle the Ancient Fae?”
She’d intended to keep going, but Stone stopped her and turned to face the reporter. “The queen has sacrificed her entire life, a full thousand years, to do everything in her power to protect our world. She’s served in ways that I can’t share with you at this time, but I promise you that without her, the Nine Realms would have fallen to the Ancient Fae a long time ago. So, I won’t hear a bad word spoken against her. Do you understand?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, but she felt his ire. He was a man with a quick temper. She supposed it made for a good warrior, but it was sometimes tough to deal with moment to moment.
On the other hand, she loved that he’d defended her especially on an issue, which until recently, he would have normally agreed with the reporter.
He ushered her into the foyer where hotel staff took her wrap.
But as she looked up at him, doubts swamped her all over again. She didn’t know what would happen once she related the vile nature of Margetta’s visions. If he had trouble forgiving her for keeping a secret, how would he ever be able to forgive her for what happened at Charborne three centuries ago?
As he guided her toward the ballroom, however, she set aside her fears and doubts. Soon enough, she’d be forced to deal with these issues.
For now, with Stone looking unbelievably sexy in his tux, she chose to give herself to the gala. She might be Queen of Ferrenden Peace, but tonight she felt like a real princess.
As she moved into the ballroom, the first sight that greeted her was all the ruling mastyrs dressed in their finest, each hovering near his woman. Each was a blood rose, a sister of sorts to Rosamunde because of their shared experience.
Those nearest turned in their direction, then offered a spattering of applause that caught on and began to grow until the ballroom thundered. She couldn’t believe the outpouring of gratitude for Stone. Her heart melted and tears touched her eyes.
She squeezed Stone’s arm and he smiled as he looked down at her. His deep voice touched her mind, I forgot how much we have to celebrate tonight. I didn’t mean to be a bear and ruin things.
Her heart melted a little more but for a different reason this time. This was the flip side of the man, that when he calmed down, he was very tender and even kind.
He removed his arm and took a step away from her, then turned in her direction and stated in a loud voice. “For Rosamunde and her part in vanquishing Margetta at the lake.” He applauded her as well and the guests joined in with a second thunderous round.
She was stunned and grew very still. Her fingers clung to the sides of her gown. She didn’t know what to think or even what to do. Naturally, her cheeks warmed up. She hadn’t expected to be honored by Stone’s peers, by anyone really. She’d gone it alone for so long, she wasn’t used to being praised on any level.
By now, her part in the battle at the lake as well as the nature of the protective veil of mist around Ferrenden Peace must have become widely known. Appreciation for her efforts swelled from all corners.
Like Vojalie earlier, Rosamunde was very close to bursting into tears. A couple of the women must have understood because they rushed forward and supported her by taking an arm each.
Abigail, Mastyr Gerrod’s blood rose, kissed her on the cheek. “You haven’t met us yet, we’re your sisters of the blood rose. Come with me.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“I know,” Abigail whispered back.
On her other side, Samantha, Ethan’s woman said, “It’s all overwhelming, isn’t it? Then we have to make it worse by making a fuss. But you deserve this, Rosamunde. So suck it up!”
Something in Samantha’s manner made Rosamunde smile then laugh. She soon found herself in the middle of a group of women she could relate to. Abigail was right. They were a sisterhood and each would continue to do her part to make the Nine Realms safe again.
When the band struck a jazzy rock tune with a lively beat, Mastyr Malik, his brown hair loose past his shoulders and sexy as anything, took Willow away to dance. Jude, whose massive shoulders practically pushed everyone out of the way, grabbed Hannah and took her twirling into the crowd. He had rhythm and a certain amount of grace he enhanced with levitation.
Lorelei drew close. Rosamunde remembered healing her mortal wounds, delivered while Lorelei had been in her wolf form. She embraced her cousin, a hug that lasted a long time.
Lorelei was Margetta’s estranged daughter. Raised by a lovely troll woman, who had been enslaved to serve as Lorelei’s nanny, Lorelei had gained her fine character from the love and values the nanny had given her. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we? And now that you’re free to leave Ferrenden Peace, we’ll get together soon.”
Rosamunde had a sudden prescience of being close to not just Lorelei but all the women. Mastyr Seth came for Lorelei and kissed Rosamunde on the cheek. She had a bond with the mastyr because she’d saved his woman. She always thought fondly of the sensitive vampire.
