Page 86 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

The chef’s cheeks colored under their mutual praise, and he turned to go.

“He’ll have my gratitude if he can bring himself to put roughly thirty fewer flowers on our cake,” Rowan muttered quietly, taking a sip of the juice that had been served with the pastries, then scowling at it like she desperately wished it was whiskey.

Which made two of us, if this was an indication of how the day would go.

After the cake came the dresses, which I was apparently not allowed to view. Nonetheless, I stayed in the general vicinity while she surveyed a book of sketches with a broad-shouldered woman who had introduced herself as Madame Freya.

If she had been horrified by the cake, she appeared to be genuinely excited about her dress options. However she may have felt about marrying me, at least that was bringing her joy.

“Sleeves may be hot this time of year,” Jocelyn commented. “What about making them lace?”

“This neckline, though,” Rowan added.

The queen gestured for the charcoal, adding something to the sketch. “What about having this peek through here?”

A wide smile graced Rowan’s plump lips and she darted a glance over at me. If I hadn’t already been looking at her, I might have missed the heat in her gaze, the slight tug at the corner of her lips.

Suddenly, I wished I could see the sketch for myself, rather than be caught unawares by the sight of her in whatever gownwas putting that expression on her features, my reaction on display for the court to see.

Madame Freya asked about buttons or laces, reclaiming Rowan’s attention while I distracted myself with a mental list of what would need to be done for our second wedding.

My father had written back this morning, a terse letter that could only be interpreted as unhappy. But he had expressed his permission, nonetheless.

A letter from Taras had followed, one I could practically hear in his dry tone.

Your news is neither unexpected nor unwelcome. At least, not to me.

A congratulations and an I told you so in one, complete with a warning about my father’s mood, lest I had failed to read the tone of his letter. In any event, he had also mentioned that Mila was ecstatic and already starting on some of the details of the event that would need to be sorted out in advance.

“What kind of black dress?” Rowan’s question intruded on my thoughts.

I blinked. I might have vaguely conveyed to a seamstress once the activities Rowan would be engaged in, but I was hardly an expert in women’s clothing.

“The wedding kind,” I answered.

She pursed her lips irritably, shooting a glare my way. “Is there anything else I should know? Will I be flouting some unspoken Socairan law if I choose not to have a train? Are sleeves optional, or will I incur the wrath of the kingdom if I go with something off the shoulder?”

I smirked, though we both knew she would incur the wrath of my kingdom no matter what she wore. Wedding dresses in Socair were slightly less bound to societal rules than an average gown. No sleeves or off-the-shoulder might be somewhat unconventional, but it wasn’t likely to invite any more scornthan she already garnered. Her hair, alone, was likely to incite a riot.

Besides, after the way she had self-consciously tugged her curls over her scars, I couldn’t quite bring myself to tell her she had to wear a high-necked gown with sleeves.

“Any black dress will do, Lemmikki,” I assured her.

If anything, that only served to frustrate her more, if her sigh was anything to go by.

“Is it a small wedding?” Her tone was overly patient, like an adult speaking to an exasperating child. “Large? Formal?”

I returned her sigh, not sure what difference the size of the wedding would make to the dress she chose, and her last question should have been obvious.

“Formal, as are most events in Socair,” I reminded her. “And I wouldn’t say small, since all of the dukes and their families attend.”

The blood drained from her face, and she froze. “All of them?”

Was she worried about Korhonan witnessing her wedding to me? Or afraid of Iiro? Fighting not to grit my teeth, I shrugged.

“Socairans and their traditions.” Traditions that would be even more important with an unprecedented alliance at stake.

Rowan nodded mutely, staring at the wall for a long, silent moment while she considered the implications of our wedding party. Wherever her mind took her was apparently enough to make her furious, because she stood to her full, miniscule height and narrowed her eyes, surveying her options once more.

---