The day of the coronation ceremony finally came. It was to start with a parade in the afternoon that wound its way from the palace, down to the town, and then back again. I would lead the procession, symbolically leaving as a prince, receiving the blessing of the people, and returning as a king. Following would be a festival in the town and a ball in the palace. Foreign dignitaries, including most of the kings and queens from the surrounding nations, would be in attendance. Except for the emperor of Obsidian. His absence was a slap in the face, particularly since Obsidian was one of Rhodolite’s direct neighbors. He sent Gilbert in his place with a request for Yves to return with Gilbert afterwards for a tour of his ‘homeland.’ Adding insult to injury, this was conveyed to me in a letter written by Gilbert, not the emperor.
I hadn’t bothered to reply.
Yves’ part in it all was the reason for his midnight stress-baking the night of Ivetta’s nightmare. I’d called him into my office earlier that day to discuss the emperor’s request. Yves’ birth had been intended to bring Rhodolite and Obsidian together, and, disregarding the emperor’s obvious slight to me, this was an opportunity to do so. He was perfectly positioned to become an ambassador between our two countries - his two countries. But the decision wasn’t mine to make. It was his. In the end, he decided to go, and I decided to ignore the emperor’s affront. He wouldn’t live forever, after all. It was far more worthwhile to pursue a good relationship with his only heir than it was to concern myself with him.
And, far more worthwhile even than that, was the coronation ceremony and the proposal to follow.
My father’s royal regalia had been tailored to fit me, and it was with a mixture of disgust and pleasure that I put them on. He and I had been very similar in height and build, so very little in the way of alterations had to be made. That contributed to my disgust, along with the many unpleasant memories of him wearing these clothes and abusing his authority for his own personal gain, not that of his kingdom. I wasn’t him, I reminded myself as I looked in the mirror, though the resemblance was uncanny from the neck down. The plain black shoes, pants and shirt could have belonged to anybody, actually, as could the black vest trimmed with gold. They were all specifically designed to be unobtrusive, so as not to detract from the glory of the coat and the crown. It was that coat that irked me. As a child, I’d come to associate it with Rhodolite itself, having been passed down from one king to the next for generations over Rhodolite’s long history. Kings like my father tarnished its reputation. I had longed for the day when I would wear it and restore its honor.
Today was the day.
The familiar dark blue fabric settled heavily over my shoulders, reaching down to my knees. Ivory lapels and cuffs stood out dramatically from the overall dark attire, flanked by a pair of large sky-blue crystals mounted in gold on each shoulder. The material of the coat was trimmed and embroidered in gold with floral designs, roses, and stars, designs that matched those engraved into the golden crown I would soon be wearing.
It wasn’t his anymore. It was mine. And, hidden within an inner pocket, was the engagement ring I intended to place on Ivetta’s finger later. Hence the pleasure.
I made my way to the throne room, my hip feeling strangely empty without the weight of my sword. The gloves were a way for me to hide any marks from unpleasant business; the sword was a symbol of war. Today was a day of peace. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d been without them. Probably in my childhood, before I’d learned swordsmanship. Maybe when I was six or seven.
Ivetta wasn’t the only one to grow up too quickly.
The throne room was full to bursting. I walked down the red carpet, past the royal guard, the visiting royalty, my brothers, and the court ministers, to seat myself on the empty throne. Sariel brought the crown, said the customary words, and placed it on my head. All gathered pledged their allegiance. I stood and walked to the doors, my brothers falling in line behind me, the royal guard following them, and the throne room doors were thrown open. Nobility crowded the entrance hall, erupting in cheers as I led the procession to the main doors.
All was rote ceremony, and all was going as planned.
Ivetta was easy to spot amongst the throngs of people. Besides her position at the front of the crowd, close to the red carpet, she was even more stunning in her new gown than I had imagined. The intermingled greens brought out her sparkling eyes, unobstructed by her silky black hair, which had been pulled back via a series of braids winding from her hairline around to the back of her head. She met my eyes and immediately blushed and smiled. I suddenly wanted to break with tradition and take her by the hand, outside where Blade was waiting, and leave all this nonsense behind.
But that would ruin the proposal, wouldn’t it?
The outer court was crowded, too, with stable boys leading Blade and my brothers’ horses. We mounted, and the procession continued with us on horseback and the royal guard following on foot, out of the palace, down the cobblestone road to the town.
She was alone with the nobility now, smiling, curtseying, chatting. It would be another hour before I saw her again. She would be fine, of course. I wasn’t worried about her skills. If anything, I was worried that she would attract too much attention, particularly from Gilbert. But tradition would work in my favor in that regard. When I returned, the ball would begin. The first dance of the night was always performed by the new king and the woman of his choice - his wife, if he was already married, or the woman who he intended to make his queen. It was as good as a proposal, done in front of the entire nation and its allies, and it would make my point abundantly clear to Gilbert and whoever else needed to get the message.
I’d instructed Sariel not to tell her.
The streets of the town were lined with people cheering. Wreaths and garlands of roses decorated lamp posts, shopfronts, and houses. The town square was packed with stalls, already selling food and drink to the excited masses. Women wore roses in their hair.
That would complete Ivetta’s outfit for tonight. A rose in her hair. Not that she needed another reason for people to look at her. Better to hold that thought until Foundation Day next year. If all went to plan, she would be my queen at that point. We would go together for as long as she would like and do whatever she would like. And I would be sure to buy her another funnel cake, if for no other reason than to see her blush and giggle as she licked powdered sugar off of her fingertips.
“Chevalier,” Leon called, urging his horse closer to mine as we made the return trip up to the palace. “How’s it feel to be king?”
“No different,” I said coolly.
He chuckled. “Figured. Ready for the first dance?”
I glanced over at him. “Naturally.”
“Is she ready for it?” he continued, grinning broadly.
“She doesn’t know.”
His jaw dropped. “You’re really gonna spring that on her, right in front of the entire kingdom?”
“Unless she is told differently, it’s just a dance,” I replied. “The real proposal will come later, in private.”
“What are you two talking about?” Clavis asked, bringing his horse up with ours.
“Just congratulating our new king,” Leon said smoothly.
“Hm, is that all?” Clavis asked, grinning slyly. “I’d hoped you were discussing something more interesting, like that dress Ivetta was wearing, or the upcoming dance. Have you been practicing your steps, Chev?”
“No.”
“Really? You’ve never danced before,” Leon pointed out. “How do you know you’re not going to mess up?”
“You forget who you’re talking to,” I said flatly.
Clavis laughed. “I’m sure he’s read up on it. We’ll just have to wait and see if his textbook knowledge is enough to keep him from making the princess look bad.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” Leon teased. “She’s never looked better. The real question is, will he allow her to dance with other men, or will he keep her to himself tonight?”
“Other men will be allowed to dance with her, so long as they behave themselves,” I replied with a meaningful look. “She is free to do as she wishes.”
And if they didn’t behave, they would have me and her personal guard to contend with. I’d given Julius instructions to maintain direct visual contact with her at all times.
We dismounted in the outer court, handing our horses off to the waiting stable boys, and made our way to the ballroom. My brothers entered first, and, after a sufficient length of time to build anticipation, the doors were thrown open for me as I was announced, King Chevalier Michel. The orchestra had already begun to play. I scanned the crowd for Ivetta and found her standing next to Nokto, who was smirking mischievously, and the Benitoite princess, who wore an ugly scowl on her face. A single glance was enough to confirm that Nokto had told Ivetta what was going on. Her green eyes were wide with shock, her cheeks bright red as I approached her. But she recovered quickly, smiling shyly as I took her hand and led her to the center of the room, and I immediately forgave Nokto for his offense. If he even existed anymore. Did anybody exist except her, resting her left hand on my shoulder as I placed my right hand on her waist? Did anybody even matter when she shone with a radiance to rival the chandeliers above us as I led her in the dance?
“You’re a natural,” I said, enchanted by her sparkling green eyes.
“I’ve been practicing,” she replied.
“I wasn’t talking about your dancing.”
The compliment deepened her blush, as I knew it would. Her nerves were melting away, and it was obvious that she really enjoyed dancing. Much of the crowd was pairing up to join us with the next song. Was it too soon to whisk her away, right after this song? Probably. I could wait a little longer. It wasn’t even dark outside yet. There was still plenty of time.
The occasional exchanging of partners began with the third song, gentlemen politely cutting in here or there with an, “Excuse me, may I?” She was whirled and twirled away from me, her green skirts flaring out from her like leaves framing a beautiful flower. I had no interest in dancing with anybody but her, so I left the dance floor, keeping close enough to intervene should somebody get a bit too loose with their hands.
“She seems to be enjoying herself,” Nokto commented, twirling a glass of champagne in his fingers as he came to my side.
“Indeed,” I said, watching as Gilbert stole her from a duke.
“She had a little run-in with the Benitoite princess,” Nokto continued. “I just hate to see a beautiful woman saying nasty things.” He smirked. “Arianna, of course, not Ivetta. But I wiped the smug grin off that little brat’s face when I let slip the significance of the first dance.”
“I’m sure.” That would explain the scowl on Arianna’s face, and the reason Nokto told Ivetta. But I couldn’t fully enjoy his account because Gilbert had pulled Ivetta close to whisper in her ear, and she was blushing nervously.
“Can you believe that Arianna really thought she still had a chance with you?” Nokto asked, chuckling. “She had the nerve to imply that Ivetta was just a cheap floozy whose background had been faked to legitimize your relationship with her.”
I frowned. “She may not be the only one to harbor such suspicions.”
“True, but from what I’ve gathered, your little dove has made quite the impression tonight. The visiting royalty in particular is quite pleased with her.”
Especially Gilbert, who was laughing at something she said. I was about to push my way onto the dance floor to intervene when Clavis cut in.
“Hm, I wonder what Clavis could be up to?” Nokto asked innocently, although the smirk on his face was anything but as Clavis maneuvered her out of the ballroom toward the balcony.
Not again.
I sighed and shoved my champagne glass at Nokto. “You never learn,” I muttered, brushing past him to the balcony. I noted with satisfaction that Julius and her other guard were already en route to the balcony, discreetly remaining on the periphery of the room but moving with distinct purpose. Gilbert had been right. Julius was an excellent choice to lead her guard detail. The way his hand drifted toward his sword had me chuckling at Clavis’ expense.
Jin slipped out to the balcony before the guards arrived, and Julius stopped inside the glass doors and signaled to the other guard. They took their posts on either side of the door, at the ready but clearly seeing no imminent danger. Julius glanced at me only briefly as I approached, keeping his attention focused on the scene outside.
“There doesn’t seem to be any trouble yet, your highness,” he reported.
They were at the railing, Clavis and Jin on either side of her, and Clavis’ jacket was around her shoulders. I smirked. There wasn’t going to be any trouble. They were intentionally setting up the perfect opportunity.
“I’ll handle this. You are dismissed,” I said coolly to Julius. He didn’t even try to hide his grin as he gestured to the other guard and left.
“I see no ring,” Clavis was saying as I stepped out onto the balcony.
“Then I shall have to remedy that,” I said. “Go.”
She removed Clavis’ jacket and handed it back to him, her green eyes shining as they met mine.
“If you change your mind, Ivetta,” Jin said with a wink, following Clavis back inside.
The hours had flown by without my noticing, and it was dark outside. She shivered, whether from cold or excitement, I wasn’t sure, but I removed my coat and wrapped it around her. I didn’t need it, anyway. I was burning up with a nervous tension I’d never experienced before. And it looked much better on her than it did on me.
“Have you?” I asked.
She pulled the coat tighter about her, breathing deeply of my cologne. “It’s harder than I thought, being a princess, and I’m sure being a queen is harder still, but I think I’m up to the challenge,” she said with a shy smile.
“I agree.”
That should have relieved any doubts, but they lingered as I reached into the coat for the inner pocket. There was still a chance that she would say no, however slim it may be. But her breath caught in her throat when she saw the small box, and when I opened it, the breath escaped as a gasp. The jeweler had outdone himself. The band was solid gold, with a large central diamond surrounded by smaller garnets.
“Will you marry me, Ivetta?” I asked softly as I removed the glove from her left hand.
“Of course I will,” she said, blinking hard as I slipped the ring on her finger.
She’d said yes. I should be able to relax now. But she was crying. She cried when she was in pain; she cried when she was sad. Why was she crying now? Had she felt pressured to say yes because of the dance?
“Why are you crying?” I asked, steeling myself for her answer as dread gnawed at my stomach.
“I'm just too happy to hold it in," she said, wiping her eyes. “I love you so much, Chevalier.”
All the tension drained away in an instant as I pulled her in for a kiss. “And I love you, little dove,” I replied, interrupting myself frequently to taste her again. The saltiness of her tears mingled with the sweetness of her lips, soft and eager, and I dropped her glove to the ground as I slid my hands around her waist to pull her closer to me.
“Chevalier, somebody will see us,” she gasped, glancing at the glass doors that offered no protection from the eyes of those inside.
“I don’t care,” I muttered, kissing her again. The whole world had just watched me propose to her. Why shouldn’t I indulge myself in her sweet kisses?
“You don’t play fair,” she protested weakly, wrapping her arms around my waist and crushing the gauzy material over her chest against mine.
I smirked and tightened my grip around her waist with one arm, running my free fingers along the satin material. “Not where you are concerned.”
“I didn’t think you’d propose so soon,” she murmured, resting her head on my chest as I rubbed my hand up and down her back. “And I certainly didn’t think you’d do it in front of everybody like that.”
It was unfortunate that the only way off this balcony was back through the ballroom. I kissed the top of her head, toying with the idea of undoing the braids wound into a bun at the back of her head.
“I didn’t think I could wait this long.”
Her only reply was a contented sigh. I nuzzled my cheek into her hair and closed my eyes. It probably wasn’t the best idea to whisk her away right now, even if it was just for privacy and not to my room like I wanted. Doing so would only encourage those, like Arianna, who believed she was just my glorified plaything. But we could stay here for a while, enjoying each other’s presence, before we returned to the ballroom.
I’d never understood the phrase often written in romance novels about someone’s heart feeling like it was about to burst. I understood it now.
She’d said yes.18Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOnmJBIVHos
