I wished that little distance didn’t make something in me twinge. “I’d like to get to work.”
A knock came at the door.
“Tonight,” Rane said. “When the palace is asleep.”
As night fell, the palace came alive. Boats hung with glowing lanterns crossed the lake, and the lights mingled with the reflection of the starry sky.
The curtains were drawn back, and Rane joined me out on the balcony. He was dressed in flowing robes of palest silver that matched his Serpent King illusion.
I was in the same color, in a dress that fell from my shoulders and wrapped around my waist. In place of jewels, my arms were covered in delicate patterns in deep red. A dozen people had arrived to help me dress and prepare, and one had brought a paste of ground leaves, applied to my skin in careful lines. Once dry, the paste had been rubbed away with a sweet-smelling oil, leaving the pattern inked into my skin.
She’d asked me if I wanted her to hide Rane’s name within the design, for him to find. I’d imagined Rane bent over my arms, scanning each inch of my skin, and had promptly broken out in sweat. She’d laughed at my expression and never brought it up again.
“Your grandmother works fast,” I said.
“It’s only the first night. Our weddings are long affairs.”
“And when I finish the job—”
“I won’t hold you here against your will.”
“Won’t they be angry with you?”
“It’s for their best interests, too. They’ll come around, in time.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. It wasn’t for me to tell him what to do. But it felt like, in being what he thought they needed from him, he wasn’t giving them a chance to truly support him.
We descended to the gardens, and in the dark of the archway, he took my hand. The calluses and warmth of his hand were becoming familiar to me, and that familiarity alarmed me. The way my fingers slotted perfectly in between his, the way his thumb traced over mine. My insides buzzed like I had swallowed a thousand bees.
It was all just pretend, I reminded myself.
I took a deep breath, and we stepped together through the arch. We were at once greeted by the sounds of merriment, with laughter and the low hum of conversation. The gardens seemed to float upon the lake, lush islands connected by delicate bridges, the largest of which held a pavilion designed so cleverly that it seemed to grow from the flowering bushes. Twinkling lights floated upon the lake and hung from the trees, casting a dreamy glow that made the partygoers seem unreal.
A hush fell as we entered, and the weight of their gazes fell like an anvil. Rane inclined his head but said nothing, and the conversations resumed, though I felt their attention still.
Rane touched my elbow. He moved to a small table of refreshments at the water’s edge, and my gaze fell to the lake. On a lotus pad, a circle of small people were drinking out of upturned flowers. Some were slender, with wings of gossamer, and others were squat. They were peris. My tiny tablecloth was precisely their size.
A goblet was pressed into my hands, textured with carvings. I peered inside. “It’s empty,” I said, wondering if it were some sort of enchanted drink, if I was unworthy of seeing it.
“Yes,” Rane said. “Watch.”
He poured wine into it, and the goblet was carved so finely, that the wine painted the thinnest parts dark with shadows, and a design revealed itself. It was an image of intertwined serpents, and as I turned the goblet, the same image repeated but the serpents transformed into a man and a woman mid-embrace. I glanced at Rane, and my face heated. I raised it to my lips and drank.
“My lord,” came a lilting voice. A green-haired nature spirit greeted Rane. She was all rounded edges and lush curves, and as she turned her dark green eyes on me, such warmth and darkness radiated from them that I was sure that there would be no softer or more nourishing place than in her arms, tucked against her softness.
The hand around my waist squeezed, and a voice said, “I would thank you not to flirt with my wife.”
She laughed, and it sounded like the wind rustling through leaves. “Forgive me, my lord.”
The trance fell. Oh, horsepiss. I took another swig of wine.
“Are you all right?” Rane murmured in my ear.
“I’m fine,” I said.
His brow raised. “Are you?”
I was out of my depth. Pretending to be enamored with Rane was one thing. At this point I was sure I could do that in my sleep. But to pretend to be a queen? I had none of the qualities that made a good queen. I wasn’t even sure what those qualities were. Probably it involved talking. And not being flustered by a cup or by the first guest to say hello.