We walk through our suite, and he stops to pull the main door open for me. Leo and Rhys’s protection entourage wait out in the hall for us. Craig is with them with his ever-present leather folio open in his hand and his gold pen flying down checklists. The frantic energy he’s putting out has the butterflies in my belly flapping harder than ever.
They all bow their heads to their king and then we proceed down the hallway toward one of the formal investiture rooms. The walls are covered in a cream silk damask with ornate gilt trim all around, the floors cushioned in red carpets.
A special rug is placed down over the existing carpet where Rhys will stand during this investiture, signifying how important he is and showing us wherewe’re to line up. Hanging from brass display stands are the thirteen banners that will hang from the Advisory room from this day until Rhys’s death or ours or if for some reason, we have to be replaced. Other than myself, Dahlia, and Taylor, I don’t recognize the other ten advisors to the King.
This is the formal ceremony to install all of us as a panel to counsel the King. One by one, we will each receive the shield pin to protect, the cape to watch his back, and the sash to keep him in our hearts at all times.
Dahlia and I have practiced this over and over this week, so we’d be prepared. I still worry I’ll mix up the words or fall flat on my face when I curtsey. I’m not used to having so many eyes on me and I can’t help but feel like a rat in a cage or a specimen to be studied.
Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, as the wife of the King, I go first in this ceremony and everyone else is lined up behind me. It’s now or never and I covertly suck in a steadying breath before stepping up to the rug that Rhys stands on and drop into my most delicate curtsey. My husband smiles proudly at me.
“You may rise,” he says, and I gracefully stand to face him. “Do you pledge your allegiance to the King?”
“Yes.”
“Do you promise to act with the best interests of this nation in your heart and mind?”
“Yes?” I don’t mean for it to come out as a question, but with all that’s happened my version of thecountry’s best interests may not be the same as the others.
“Will you protect the King in all matters?” He asks this with a raised brow. I know this one is difficult for him because he feels he should protect me, and he hasn’t always been great about that. But in this role, it is my job to protect him.
“Yes.”
“Then I award you the Shield of Valor,” he says as he pins the large brooch to my side. “Do you promise to keep the King and this nation in your heart always?”
“Yes.” I smile at him like the loving wife I’m supposed to be.
“Then I present you the Sash of the Loyal to wear across your chest with pride.” He slips another sash over my head. “And lastly, do you promise to guard the secrets of this nation with your life?”
“I do.”
“Then I present you the Cloak of Protection to be worn as a trusted advisor to the King, blood heir of the Isle of Saints.”
“Thank you,” I reply softly and some tender emotion flits through his eyes for a split second.
I expect him to move on to the next advisor, his brother, Taylor—which is what he should do. It’s what he’s supposed to do.
Instead, before I can move to stand under my banner, Rhys cups the back of my head with his heavy palm and presses a hard, closed mouth kiss to my lips,stealing the breath from my lungs.
When he releases me, I bob another curtsey and move to my banner. I watch the next few members go through the motions for their portion of the ceremony, but there’s a blonde head just behind the line of those witnessing the ceremony. I look to Rhys, to Taylor, to anyone to see if they see it too, but no one shows any reaction.
When I look back, she’s gone.
Maybe I am losing my mind…
I stand through the rest of the ceremony with a serene smile placed firmly on my face. I might be freaking out inside, but not one person here is going to know it.
And then, as the ceremony comes to a close, I see the flutter of a blue skirt as Rhys releases us all to mingle with refreshments to celebrate. As if I could drink punch and eat cookies like nothing is wrong… but still, I have to.
“Come, sister,” Taylor says, leaning in close with his hand just a little too low on my back to guide me to the refreshment table. “Are you excited for tomorrow?”
“What do you mean?” I ask. My hand shakes as I take the crystal punch glass he passes me.
“To become the Queen,” he says. “It’s very exciting.”
“Yes,” I reply quietly, scanning the room for any sign of Suzanne.
“I know which part I’ll be looking forward to most,” he leers.