Page 136 of To Dance with Death

I march to him, pull him in for a hug. It’s fast, delicate, but when I pull away, he blinks in confusion. “I don’t know what that was for. I hardly did a thing.”

“You risked your life,” I say. “Back on Anell, by freeing Anton’s men, and by staying with me in Brisendale. Do you really feel you don’t deserve my gratitude?”

“All right,” he says. “So I helped a little. It doesn’t make up for the guilt I feel for nearly getting you killed. I was the one who turned you in to Illian, Vas. I put you through so much beyond that.”

“And I had been lying to you,” I say. “We were both hurting and desperate, just in different ways. You can make amends by moving beyond it. By finding your own happiness.”

“You really are something,” he says softly. “At least I can say I performed with the future queen. That I was witness to her strength before anyone knew her name.”

It still seems strange to think of myself as queen. But in a few short hours, I will be. I tuck my loose hair behind my ear. “What will you do now? Will you stay in Ansa?”

“Laurent offered me a position at the theater. Would that be strange? If I am nearby? They need a performer but also an instructor. There are several girls from the Glory Court who want to learn how to dance.”

“I couldn’t think of a better person for the role,” I say, meaning it. He isn’t the Copelan I first met here on the isle. He has a newfound gentleness to him, and perhaps that’s precisely what those girls will need.

“Any advice?” he asks.

“Listen to them. Believe them,” I say, “if they tell you they are in pain. Don’t search for evidence. Don’t go by only what you see. Pain is often invisible. We are excellent at masking it.”

He nods. “I vow it.”

A moment passes, though surprisingly, the silence isn’t uncomfortable. Just when I think he’s about to leave, though, he asks, “Are you happy? I just…I want to make sure.”

My smile grows wide. “I’m so much more than that.”

For once, his smile matches mine. “Then I can finally be at peace.”

I linger before the tall double doors leading to the throne room, the sunlight pouring in generously to dapple the floor below. Flecks of warmth glitter over me as I shift on my feet.

I wait only with Laurent, who will escort me down the aisle. A choice I made for the man who showed me kindness when I didn’t deserve it, and who does the same for everyone else.

I am glad for the moment of reprieve. My hands jitter nervously, twirling my engagement ring around my finger. It’s not that I am afraid. It’s that I don’t know how to handle this type of joy and excitement all at once. I’ve never felt it before.

Gustav approaches us and places a hand on mine, smiling softly. “He was grinning like a madman all morning, so much so that Basile thought him drunk. Not for one second did he drop it. I’ve never seen him happy like this, Vas.”

A soft laugh escapes my throat. “The feeling is mutual.”

“Here’s one piece of advice,” he says. “My wife and I…Well, on our wedding day, it was so busy and crowded that the day passed seemingly without us in it. We could hardly remember a thing. So today, Vasalie, soak up every single moment. Be present. Do not be parted from him. It is the day you two have earned. Revel in it, my friend.”

With that, he slips into the room, leaving us alone once more. I glance at Laurent. He glances at me and immediately sets to work: tugging a stay curl of mine loose, then smoothing my skirts and flaring the train of my dress. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” he mutters, tugging a small container from his jacket pocket and dabbing shimmer along my cheeks. “I’m giving you away to the only man I’d trust with my life.”

I can’t help a chuckle, then shiver—except not from the cold. “I feel like I’m jumping out of my own skin—like it can’t contain me.” It’s strange, this euphoria. Still my body is weak and fatigued. Pained. But the adrenaline and joy carry me from each moment to the next. I know I’ll crash later, but I’ll do so in peace with a man who understands me.

“I’d get used to the feeling—especially with His Majesty’s…talents.”

“You scoundrel,” I say with a laugh, swatting at his shoulder. But then he grips my hands.

“To family,” he says.

“To family,” I breathe.

When finally the doors open, Laurent folds my arm into the crook of his.

When I see Anton, even from this far, his smile is like thedawning sun. He is clothed in a gold surcoat with ivory detailing, his ears and fingers bedecked with golden rings. His sea-glass crown brims from his hair, which is windswept just the way I like it. Behind him, Ishu is propped on her hind legs, a satchel tied to her jeweled collar that I assume contains the rings.

Basile, his ever-present captain, who is equally as ornamented—which I assume was at Anton’s insistence—stands on Anton’s other side. Though his weapons are still strapped to him, his arms are decorated with cuffs, his braids jeweled, and even his armor has shining gold accents among all that leather. When he sees me, he offers a subtle nod that lifts my heart. It seems Anton forgave him, after all. I would have expected nothing less, when Basile only did what I led him to believe was the only option.

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse Sundar near the front, grinning broadly next to Queen Sadira, his brothers beside them. Laurent told me earlier that he had woken, and he and Anton had reunited last night in what Laurent described as a “love fest” over a few glasses of ale. Later I will give him my best hug, and we will all dance together, his brothers included, along with all my newfound family.