The Mirror King (The Orphan Queen, #2)(58)



“Try to have fun,” Theresa said. “I wish the rest of us could go.”

“I’d send you in my place, if I could.” Since the cathedral was a pile of rubble, the wedding guest list had been slashed. I’d made the cut, but the rest of the Ospreys hadn’t.

With Sergeant Ferris in close attendance, I made my way to the palace’s glorious chapel. It had the typical dragon regalia, with unicorns added for Meredith. Blooms of blue and violet and ivory dripped from balconies and banisters, with verdant highlights. The scent of perfume and anticipation danced through the room as the guests were seated.

The memorial had been grand and stately and solemn; the wedding was smaller, but filled with life and hope for the future.

A footman guided me to a bench near the front. I waited as the chamber began to fill with rustling gowns and coats, and murmuring voices. Next to me, a foreign countess took her seat, keeping a large space between us. A string quartet played by the altar. A bubble of hushed voices formed around me.

“The wedding was meant to be held in the cathedral,” someone whispered. “But you know what happened to that.”

“I can’t believe she was invited.”

I kept my mouth in a line. What would I say to them? That I deserved to be here? That the cathedral collapse wasn’t my fault?

The last thing I needed to do today was cause a scene.

“She’s a curse on this kingdom,” someone muttered. “And she’ll curse this wedding.”

“Don’t say that!”

Surely they knew I could hear, even over the gentle strings playing nearby, which meant they wanted me to know what they said.

I glanced over. One of the speakers was Lady Chey, who wore a splendid red gown and a smug expression. A few other ladies I recognized from the solar sat near her, though most of them avoided meeting my eyes.

Tobiah’s aunts and uncles and mother sat in the row in front of me. The queen mother held herself stiffly, and if she showed any emotion for her son’s wedding day, I couldn’t see it from here. Meredith’s family sat in the opposite row, all of them with their fine blond hair and bright smiles, visible whenever they turned their faces toward the altar.

They were so happy. Happy for Meredith. Happy for their family. And if they were as nice as Meredith, they were happy for the kingdom as well.

I wanted to sink deeper into my seat. Vanish. Stop feeling at all. It would be easier to be numb than to think.

It wasn’t long before priests flowed through the chapel, their robes fanning behind them. A handful of bodyguards moved toward the front of the chamber. James caught my eye and offered a pale smile, but it was only a moment before he resumed scanning the room for danger.

It seemed like the person James should be watching was me.

The music shifted, everyone stood, and Tobiah came forward, dark eyed and proud. He wore a suit of deep indigo with gold edging, and long tailcoats that fluttered with his every step down the aisle. Even his hair had been wrestled into submission. A small, plain crown rested on his head, golden contrast to the dark strands.

At the altar, he took his place and turned his attention down the aisle to wait for Meredith.

Instead, his eyes locked with mine.

My breath tripped and I was back in the moment we’d met in his father’s office, when I’d come in wearing Lady Julianna’s personality like a mask. Me, knowing him from the One-Night War. Him, knowing me from his nights as Black Knife. Neither of us saying anything for long heartbeats, waiting to see if the other recognized . . .

“Recognize this now,” I wanted to say. “Recognize that I love you and when you do this, there’s a part of me that will never recover.”

He lowered his eyes as the music built, and a shower of ivory rose petals burst from the ceiling, making the small crowd gasp with awe.

The petals floated like snow, catching in hair and on gowns and in children’s cupped palms. Another gasp rippled through the room as Meredith stepped down the aisle and everyone turned to look.

From my aisle seat in the front, my view was partially obstructed by those in the back who leaned outward, but I saw her soon enough.

Meredith was resplendent. Luminous. A glittering net of diamonds rested over her golden hair, while twists and curls spiraled down to her waist. She held her chin high, every part the duchess bride—soon to be queen.

The lengths and folds of her gown hugged her body in shimmering ivory silk, and lace across the bodice. Seed pearls and tiny diamonds had been stitched into outlines of unicorns all around the collar and shoulders, and around the hems of her open sleeves. When she walked, a short train rustled against the floor and the petals strewn there.

Never once did she look away from Tobiah, as if she didn’t notice a young girl and boy tossing petals into the air, blowing them toward her. As if she didn’t notice her mother and the queen mother clasping their hands to their hearts. As if she didn’t notice the music soaring through the room like triumph.

Just Tobiah. Always Tobiah.

At last she took her place beside him, light to his shadow, and the priest began the first of nine saints’ blessings. Everyone sat again.

While the priest spoke of love, then joy, then peace, Meredith gazed up at Tobiah, her face soft and lit with happiness. But he looked dull and bored. Cold and distant. What everyone expected him to be, even now.

A knot of agony built in my chest while the priest moved on to the patience blessing, then kindness. Watching Tobiah obey duty, not his heart—I couldn’t breathe, and my eyes felt swollen with tears.

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