Scarlet walked over, placing a hand on hers. “Yes, Mother. It’s a lovely day. And it will only get better.”

Mother swallowed, but she nodded and smiled quickly after.

“I’m nervous, too,” I admitted.

Aunt Jovana came out with Uncle Reid just behind her. “Did someone say they were nervous? Thank goodness. I’ve been pacing since I woke.”

“You paced while you slept, too, and I’ve got the bruises to prove it,” Uncle Reid joked, and she playfully poked his arm. “Who are we missing? Etan?”

As his name was said, he hurriedly stumbled from his room, raking his hand through his hair and using the other to pull at his belt. “I’m here. Sorry. Didn’t sleep well.”

Oh, good. I wasn’t alone.

I didn’t meet his eyes. I wasn’t quite ready for that.

“We still have time, son. Take a breath.” Uncle Reid said. “In fact, everyone take a breath. Straighten yourselves up, and let’s get ready to go.”

For the first time since we’d set up this little arrangement, I hesitated to go to Etan. But it didn’t matter; he came to me.

My heart was positively racing at his nearness. When I could pull my eyes up from the floor, I saw . . . how could I even describe what I saw? The tension that always seemed to rest in his jaw was gone, and the way his eyes were usually settled in an air of worry and suspicion . . . that was gone, too. He was still Etan, and somehow not.

Usually, he turned to face the door, extending his arm in a very official way. But today, he gently held out his hand for me.

“Come on, you wretched hag. We’re going to be late,” he teased gently.

I smiled, relieved. I could do this.

“Where in the world did you sleep last night? You smell like a barn.” I placed my hand on his, reminding myself that any flickers of warmth I felt were all in my head and not in his, and we were off.

As relatives of the king, we were expected to occupy the first few rows of the temple. Etan and I made our way past the scores of people filling the space to capacity, and he nodded kindly at the many people who greeted him.

The sound of the organ in the background was more ominous than romantic, but I supposed that was fitting. There were a few sprays of flowers near the front of the temple, but otherwise the room was plain. Even the windows lacked color. It certainly all fit my mood about the event. This space felt how I’d always imagined Isolte would: damp, dark, and decidedly less inviting than Coroa. But I’d found warmth here, too.

At some cue that I didn’t see, the king and queen walked down the aisle. Quinten looked as venomous as ever, hiking up the aisle with his elaborate cane, and Valentina’s eyes were dancing around the room, looking for what, I couldn’t guess. Her one hand was resting on Quinten’s, and the other was settled across her waist, as if she was trying to convince people that she was with child. They walked on, looking perfectly regal, settling into two thrones on the front right-hand side of the room.