Thirty-three
It was déjà vu. Maren sat in the front row, listening to the excited whispers of the crowd in the Great Hall. A much larger crowd than Philip would have wanted. But this time, instead of being nervous, she was almost surreally happy, despite everything that had happened.
It had only been a week since Philip had gone to Lord Berk and accepted the Council’s request, and she’d spent much of the time with Adare, who barely left her room. It was just too hard. There were too many memories of Daric. But Maren held out hope Adare would be all right – eventually. The former queen had agreed to exile for the young man who had killed her husband, saying his death wouldn’t make her pain go away. It was a start.
There hadn’t been enough time before the coronation to repair the damage to the Hall. Berk had wanted to try, but Philip refused. He’d let them clean up the broken glass and clear away the debris. He’d even consented to boarding up the hole in the ceiling and the worst of the windows. Other than that, it was the same as the day Kern had been killed. The scorch marks, the torn curtains, the throne that still lay in pieces. Philip wanted it left as a reminder of what power could do. Not forever. Just today. The day they’d chosen a mage as their king.
The room quieted, and she watched Philip walk down the aisle, head bent, hands at his sides. He was all in black and a silver sword hung at his side. There was no fanfare, no pronouncement of his name, nothing. Just him and the people. His people.
He stopped in front of Lord Berk and knelt. Maren could feel his nervousness and knew that if she could see them, his hands would be shaking. Just like her own.
She barely heard any of the actual ceremony, too caught up in Philip’s emotions. Something had happened when he’d saved her, when he’d shared a part of his magic. At first, she hadn’t understood why she was so in tune with Philip’s feelings, had thought she was reading his body language or he was telling her more than he was. But as the days went by, she realized it was more than that. She could feel when he entered a room. She could sense his every emotion, even if he wasn’t looking at her, and more recently, even if he wasn’t near.
She hadn’t told Philip yet. He’d been too busy with everything else, and she hadn’t known quite how to explain it to him.
Lord Berk lifted the crown over Philip’s head and began the final part of the ceremony. She could feel his apprehension – and his desire to flee – and she couldn’t help but smile. Then Berk lowered the crown. It was as if she felt the crushing weight of responsibility on her own shoulders as it settled into place. She wanted to run to Philip and lace her fingers through his, to reassure him.
She had to be content to watch as he faced the people for the first time as their king.
As one, every head in the room bowed and then rose again. Philip looked over the crowd and managed a small smile before his eyes found hers. He gave her a low bow and then made his way back down the aisle.
Adare would have loved the coronation ball under different circumstances. It was all flowers and lights and sparkling things. Maren suspected it was mostly Kira’s doing, but she hadn’t bothered to ask.
Philip stood across the room, surrounded by too many people to count. She hadn’t had a single chance to talk with him so she had to be content just to watch. It had been like this since the ball began over an hour ago. The Council, the nobles all trying to win favors, the ladies all trying to win something else. At first, Philip had endured with grace. It was part of the job and he knew it. Now, he was getting impatient. She would have known even if she couldn’t sense his feelings. His smile was forced. His posture stiff.
He looked up, as if reading her thoughts, and briefly met her eyes, smiling an apology. “He looks as if he could use a good excuse to make them all leave him alone,” Kira said, threading her arm through Maren’s.
“He does, doesn’t he?” Maren laughed. “I don’t know that he’ll get one tonight.”
“I don’t know.” Kira winked. “I told the musicians to get ready to begin.”
Like Philip would get the chance to dance tonight. “Thank you,” she said to Kira. “I know you did all this. It’s beautiful.”
She shrugged. “It’s no less than he deserves. Or you deserve.”
A slight smile touched the corners of Maren’s mouth. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Right,” Kira smiled and placed a hand on Maren's arm. “I am truly happy for both of you. I hope you know that.”
“I do.” Maren hugged her. “And I’m grateful for your friendship.”
The musicians began to take their places as couples made their way onto the floor. She saw an empty chair against the wall and headed towards it.
“Lady Maren?”
Her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught. Then she turned.
Philip gave her a deep bow and held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”
The entire room watched and she didn’t care. She just wanted to be near him, to feel his arms around her.
She took a step forward and reached for his outstretched hand. “I would be honored.”
He led her onto the floor and waited as the musicians finished their tuning, but he didn’t let go of her hand.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. I refuse to let this take me away from you. I won’t.”
“I know exactly how you feel,” she said, knowing it was time to tell him. “I feel exactly what you feel.”
His brows wrinkled in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Something happened that day you made me whole. I know when you’re impatient, or restless, or happy, or sad, or frustrated. I feel your emotions. Not as strongly as my own, but I feel them.”
His eyes went wide. “I thought it was just me, that I was imagining it. But tonight, just as I was wishing everyone would disappear, I felt you smile. As if you understood completely.”
It went both directions, this new closeness they felt. Somehow, that made it even better.
The music began, and the beautiful notes of a haunting melody hung in the air. Philip took her into his arms, and everything else faded into the background, unimportant, because she was happy.
As the music came to a close, she expected Philip to move on to another partner. Instead, he led her to the front of the room. Then he turned to the crowd and signaled for silence.
“I never asked to be your king. I never wanted or sought it. But circumstances brought me here and things took place that I couldn’t change.” He paused. “Perhaps one day I’ll be able to tell you in detail what happened just over two weeks ago. Perhaps one day I’ll be able to share what happened the months before that to bring us to such a conclusion.” He took a deep breath. “But there is one thing I would like you to know. One thing you need to know.” She could feel him fighting to control his emotions. “Were it not for one person, the kingdom would have fallen and Kern would still be alive. That person is Lady Maren.”
All eyes fixed on her, and she wanted nothing more than to step back into the crowd and disappear. Instead, she took Philip’s outstretched hand and joined him at his side.
“Even if we hadn’t been friends since we were children, even if I hadn’t loved her almost my entire life, I would tell you she’s the bravest woman I know. She’s known for a long time who Teige really was. She tried to tell me. When that didn’t work, she did everything in her power to stop him. I don’t deserve her love or her trust, and yet somehow she’s given me both.” He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Then he slid a delicate ring onto her finger. “Today, I am more humbled than I can express to announce that Lady Maren has agreed to be my wife, and your queen.”
Philip stepped closer and put his arms around her. Applause thundered through the room as he leaned in to kiss her. When he finally pulled away, he was laughing. It was the first true smile she’d seen on his face that night.
She stayed by his side as long as she could, but eventually they were pulled apart, each receiving congratulations from their various acquaintances. She was able to escape much sooner than him, and she stood back and watched, soaking in his feelings and trying to put them into words.
It wasn’t happiness, although he was happy. It wasn’t even joy. It went deeper than that, more lasting.
Contentment.
That was the best way to describe it. But it wasn’t that alone. There was something more, some other emotion woven right alongside. Just as satisfying as the first, but stronger. Something that could survive on its own, that would endure beyond contentment, or happiness, or joy, but that made each of those emotions more meaningful.
She caught his eye from across the room, and he smiled in a way that reached into her soul and made her breath catch. For she knew what she’d been missing, the emotion that held everything else in place.
It was love.