Cassius and True turned to watch him stride to Silence, who was hurrying toward him, her cloak billowing behind her in the wind, her hands juggling her active pet monkey.

The King of Firenze arrived at his queen, took the monkey, set it on his shoulder, then swept his bride in one arm, bending her over it with great flair, even if he did it only to touch his lips to hers, lift away and smile in her face.

A blush stole into her cheeks, but she smiled back.

Well, it appeared whatever was keeping king and queen apart, Mars had made great inroads in sweeping away.

“And a stunning blow has been dealt to Johan,” True murmured.

At his words, Cassius found the party that would ride to the Arbor and saw Silence’s father scowling at his daughter with her husband.

“I do not think that is why he makes that show,” Cassius murmured in return. “That is but Mars, the Firenz are flamboyant. And he’s falling in love with her.”

“I do not think that either,” True replied. “I still like to see Johan back on a foot when he’s been peacocking around with glee even when it’s clear his daughter carries heavy burdens.”

“On that, we agree.”

As Mars strode off with his wife in the curve of his arm and a monkey on his shoulder, True went alert at Cassius’s side.

“And there is my future bride…and yours,” True said, and Cass’s attention turned to Farah and Elena walking their way, arm in arm. “Thus, I shall be away. Safe journey, Cassius.”

“And the same for you, True.”

Cassius watched as True walked to Farah, who disengaged from Elena to meet him.

An Elena who did naught but glance at True with a small smile while continuing on her way to Cass.

He ignored that and noted True had utterly no flamboyance whatsoever, but no one witnessing the look on his face as he gazed upon Farah would miss there was no other person on Triton he would rather have close than her.

So Elena had realized it had never been True.

And for True, it might have been Elena, but he now realized he’d found the woman who was his destiny.

Thus, that band around Cassius’s chest tightened.

He turned his gaze with effort to his future bride.

Tunic. Moccasins. Casings bound with crisscross straps up her thighs. Her heavy purple cloak billowing behind her in the stiff wind. Her glorious honey hair wisping across her face and catching on her full, rosy lips.

He could fuck her where he stood.

Hell, he wanted to fuck her where he stood.

“Are you ready?” she asked, stopping in front of him.

“Yes,” he answered.

Her head tipped to the side and her gaze grew acute.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Yes,” he lied.