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“My mother is trying to be nice, but I promise you won’t offend her if you’re honest. I think she’d prefer that to you not being able to breathe.” He holds the destroyed scrap of material up for inspection. “Why would Oretta wear these things?”
“She’s a different breed of ogre.” I head to the armoire and reach for the simple blue dress, then pause and grab a dark green one. These were also custom made for me but they weren’t intended to be worn for a royal announcement. They’re soft as silk and best of all, no corset. I pull it on and walk toward Orcus so he can do the ties at the back. “I’ll apologize to your mother.”
“You’re allowed to wear whatever you want.” Orcus rests his big hands on my shoulders and I tip my head back to look at him.
“I tried,” I say with a grin. “I really did.”
His face softens. “Next time, try harder. You’re about to become queen. No dress you wear is going to change that. Pick what makes you comfortable.” He pauses. “Pick what makes you, you.”
What makes me, me? So much of my life has been spent shaping myself into something that pleased whoever I was talking to. Mimicking them. Clinging to whoever spared me a little bit of attention and eventually being ditched because I was too much. I don’t know how to be myself and ensure he still wants me.
“You should never have to hide who you really are,” he murmurs.
Those words hit me straight in the chest. “What if you don’t like the real me?”
“That’s impossible. You’re the only reason I want to smile. I need you, but not the you who hides in the shadows so others can shine.” His eyes track over my face. “I need my sunshine.”
I sniff and wave my hands in front of my face. “You have to stop being so nice or I might start crying and then I’ll ruin my makeup—which I like by the way.”
“Come on then, Daisy. I can’t wait to tell the world you’re mine.”
“Such an alpha,” I whisper. “Will there be food? I’m starving.”
“Only the best for you. We’ll be sitting with my father.” Orcus reaches down to pick me up, but I step away and hold up my hand.
“I’m walking. I don’t know how things work in this kingdom, but a lady who has to be carried everywhere she goes isn’t fit to be queen.”
“Your leg—”
“Is fine. I stretched. I rested. I’m all better and can handle a short stroll.”
“Stubborn lady,” he grumbles but doesn’t try to pick me up again.
“Grumpy ogre,” I tease.
Orcus holds the door open, and I glide out of the room in my simple dress and walk beside him on the way to the great hall. Not for the first time, I wonder how all of these stones were piled together with such precision. The walls are smooth, perhaps chiseled to be that way, and there are no gaps between the rocks. The décor is elegant. Pretty wooden tables hold beautiful, golden lined vases of fresh cut flowers. Portraits of ogres and various other monsters are wrapped in gilded frames, denoting the importance of each person.
Are the taxes Harald and the other monsters pay used to fund all of these fancy things?
Excitement swirls inside me the closer we get. A frantic server with glossy green wings, a harpy as I’ve been told, zips by us, muttering something about wine. Dozens of voices spill into the hallway and the guards nod at Orcus as we approach. He pauses before we reach the doorway and glances at me.
“Ready?”
I nod. “With you by my side, I can handle it.”
“Good, because that’s where you belong.”
My heart melts, but there’s no time to respond because someone announces us and Orcus begins to walk. I take a quick breath and step with him, appreciating how mindful he is of his pace. The great hall falls silent as we take the first step inside.
As with everything in this castle, the great hall is giant. The stone walls are well over twenty-feet tall and the large navy banners hung about the room are just as long. There are rows and rows of tables and all types of monsters. Ogres, minotaurs, centaurs, harpies, other monsters with horns, the bulky gargoyles—and Basil the snake from the inn. They’re all standing to pay their respects to Orcus and his chosen mate. They’re allstaringat me. The weight of their attention is overwhelming. My throat goes dry and my stomach flutters with nerves.
What if they hate me?
What if I’m too frail for them?
What if I’m not enough?
A blast of strength shoots through the bond, and I grin, sending some sunshine in Orcus’ direction. The royal family is seated at the end of a velvet navy rug. The king watches me with a hawk-like gaze and I narrow my eyes ever so slightly before I remember my place. It’s probably not a good idea to glare at a king. I school my features and focus on Orshana, checking her reaction to my last-minute outfit change.
