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“My King,” she greeted me.
I smiled warmly at the pair.
“So much for being fashionably late,” I remarked dryly. “We’re the first to arrive. That’s cause for a drink, I believe.”
I turned to find a servant, but I didn’t have to look far. A tray with two goblets arrived before I fully pivoted. Picking up a stem, I handed one to Zephy and extended my arm toward her.
She accepted my arm and the drink, allowing me to guide her toward the head of the room where our thrones sat on a podium.
“Are we really supposed to sit up there all night?” she asked worriedly.
“You’ll get used to it,” I promised with a chuckle.
“I don’t think I will.”
I cast her a sidelong look, wondering if she was right. I had been born into this life, after all. She was being thrust into it, and I needed to give her time to get used to it.
“I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?” I remarked, leading her up the short flight of steps. “Has your speech been vetted properly?”
“I think so. Aradia approved it with some changes, but I’m not sure…”
“You should trust her. She’s a very good enchantress. She’s been an advisor to the kingdom for over a century.”
Zephyrine didn’t comment, but I could see that she was having a difficult time trusting anyone.
Impulsively, I reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. “This is all going to take some getting used to, but you will find your way eventually, just as I did.”
“That’s easy for you to say. This is all you’ve ever known.”
No. Once, I knew much more than this, but it was stolen from me.
I was saved from answering as the ballroom doors again opened and a small flock of guests began to enter.
“Let the festivities begin,” I commented wryly, and Zephyrine grimaced lightly.
“I don’t suppose you know a spell for opening the floor to swallow me whole, do you?”
“I do,” I replied, squeezing her hand again. “But you’ll be hard-pressed to get it out of me.”
“Spoilsport,” Zephy muttered with a sigh.
I laughed and kissed her cheek. “You’ll do wonderfully. I’m right here by your side. You’re going to knock them dead.”
* * *
But for allof Zephyrine’s reservations, she handled the gala with decorum and class, her conversation polite, her discussions non-confrontational. It was almost as if she had slipped into a completely different personality, a comment I made to Aradia when I caught her later in the evening.
“Have you been working with her?” I asked, watching Zephyrine in admiration. “She’s demure and sweet. I hardly recognize her as the same fae who was ready to wreak havoc upon her arrival.”
“Maybe you simply haven’t given her the opportunity to prove herself in any meaningful way,” the enchantress chided me.
Guiltily, I nodded in agreement. I silently vowed not to underestimate Zephyrine again. Excusing myself, I went to her side and guided her away.
“It’s time for your speech,” I informed her. “Are you ready?”
“No,” she sighed. “But I’ll do it, anyway.”
“That’s the spirit.”
