The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(118)
The crowd clapped enthusiastically for Nessa, who grinned as she fastened the pendant around her neck.
The queen continued, “Finally, we are here to complete the betrothal announcement that was interrupted at my son’s ball three nights ago. Due to the unprecedented event of the wraith’s appearance and subsequent defeat at the hands of a marriage-eligible girl in our kingdom, the throne is invoking a betrothal by trial.”
An audible gasp swept the room, and several members of the head families looked furious. Someone sidled up to Blue and said softly, “You belong together, you know. Anyone with eyes can see it.”
Blue turned to see one of Gen Gaillard’s cousins. Julia or Janelle. Blue could never tell the twins apart. Her hair was swept to the side, her golden skin glowing against her blue gown, though her eyes look red-rimmed and exhausted. “Thank you,” Blue said.
“No, thank you. What you did was incredibly selfless and brave. You’ll make an amazing queen.”
Queen.
Blue’s heart thudded against her chest as she raised her eyes to Kellan’s again. How was she supposed to be a queen? She knew nothing about ruling. Nothing about playing political games or flattering people. Her hands shook as she pressed them together. She would be a disaster.
Kellan stepped forward, the dancing slipper held in front of him. “This betrothal trial recognizes that a queen should be courageous, intelligent, selfless, and willing to do whatever it takes to protect the people in her kingdom.”
Blue’s nerves settled as he held her gaze, his eyes soft.
“The dancing slipper I hold was worn by the person who defeated the blood wraith at great personal sacrifice. She lost the shoe outside the witch’s cottage the night of the ball. The betrothal trial states that I will only marry the girl whose foot fits this slipper.”
Blue’s brow rose. Any number of girls could fit that slipper.
Kellan sent her a look that clearly told her to trust him as parents rushed to line their daughters up ahead of their competition. Blue watched in bemusement as girl after girl stepped up to Kellan and tried to put her foot inside the shoe.
For one, the slipper lengthened until her foot slid right out as she tried to take a step. For another, it shrank until she could barely wedge her toes inside. Every girl in the kingdom stepped up to try on the slipper, and every girl failed to fit her foot inside the shoe.
When Blue was the last girl left, she stepped up to Kellan, the fizzy feeling in her veins sparkling like sunlight on water as he knelt before her and offered her the slipper. She rested one hand on his shoulder for balance and slid her foot into the shoe.
It fit perfectly.
The crowd erupted, but Blue didn’t see anything but Kellan. Looking up at her, he said, “Blue de la Cour, this betrothal trial recognizes you as the bravest, smartest, most selfless person in the kingdom. You are the rightful next queen. Would you do me the honor of accepting my proposal?”
She leaned down, her lips a breath away from his, and said, “Yes.”
He rose to his feet, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. And then there was nothing but the taste of his lips, the heat of his skin, and the steady beat of his heart.
EPILOGUE
IF BLUE HAD to make one more decision—seven-tiered cake or eight? rose centerpieces or finola blooms? candles or antique lanterns?—she was going to scream. Add to that regular sessions with a tutor to train Blue on royal etiquette in Balavata and the other nine kingdoms, political maneuvering within Balavata’s system of government, and all the many, many duties of a queen, and nearly every hour of her days was spoken for.
Those that weren’t taken up with wedding planning and queen training were devoted to meeting with various heads of the royal staff, brunches with the head families, observing council meetings, and dress fittings with the royal seamstress since Grand-mere’s magic dresses only lasted four hours and apparently Blue’s wedding was going to be an all-day affair.
What she wouldn’t give for one hour in her storeroom chopping up bolla root and experimenting with snake venom. Or a trip to her farmhouse just to sit in the garden and let the plants tell her which ones needed harvesting.
She closed the door to her suite of rooms in the castle’s family wing and eyed Pepperell, who had taken to royal life like he’d been born to it. Her cat was sprawled on the fluffy red pillow the royal seamstress had made especially for him, a dish of cream and another dish of minced fish sitting close by.
“You’re spoiled rotten,” Blue said as she scratched his head and then opened the doors that led out to her balcony. He gave her a regal look as if to say, “I’m only getting what I deserve.”
She stepped onto her balcony and leaned against the balustrade. The sky was a velvet black dusted with stars, and the warmth of late summer brushed against her skin like an invitation. She could smell the faint hint of salt in the air, though she was too far north to hear the sea.
How long had it been since she’d had a swim in the crisp, golden water? Two months ago, when she and Kellan had taken Nessa there for a picnic? Before the wedding loomed and every second of Blue’s life was relegated to training her how to be a queen.
Longing was an ache in her chest that wouldn’t be satisfied with anything the castle had to offer.
She needed her farmhouse. Her garden and her sea. A few precious hours when she was just Blue, not Bernadina de la Cour, future queen. Surely there was a safe way off the castle grounds. Stars knew, Kellan had accomplished the same feat more times than she could possibly count.