Page 55 of The Crown of the Dark Prince
“You don’t have to do this,” Nessira said softly, ignoring the alarmed glance Samsa shot her.
I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to throw myself out the nearest window and run as far as my legs would take me.
“This is my duty,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended. “This is what I was born to do.”
Nessira’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I don’t think you believe that.”
The truth was that I wasn’t sure what I believed anymore.
None of it mattered, though. My king had declared I would marry Veric Starsen, and so I would. Now, I only had to meet the man.
Chapter Fifteen
Saharn greeted us outside my room as we began making our way to dinner. Clay had already gone ahead, she explained, but she was happy to escort us to the banquet hall. In Tenebris, large feasts were traditional for celebrating important guests and joyous occasions—like an upcoming engagement, for example. Tonight, the monarchs and Veric invited both friends and family to dine with us.
The sounds of their celebration carried down the winding hallways, which were open to the outside air. The humid heat was oppressive, and I instantly understood why the Tenebrisians wore such minimal clothing. One step outside was enough to make even the most modest want to strip away their layers.
“I will announce you,” Saharn said with a warm smile, stopping just short of the dining hall.
There was no door, only a single oversized archway through which I could already see men and women of all ages laughing and sharing food. My eyes scanned over the crowd, lingering on every eligible young man, wondering if one of them might be Veric.
Saharn must have noticed my unease. Perhaps it was the way I gripped my hands together to keep them from shaking. She paused briefly, offering me a moment to collect myself. “You look beautiful,” she assured me before leading us forward throughthe archway.
The room quieted as hundreds of eyes turned toward us.
“Allow me to present Lady Theadora Moore of Athenia, the last remaining daughter of Hyrax!”
My stomach churned violently, and I had to wipe my damp hands against my skirt to keep from trembling.
Then, all at once, the room rose to its feet, a cacophony of applause echoing as the Tenebrisians welcomed me into their home. I slipped my practiced mask into place, tucking my nerves away behind a polite smile, and made my way to the long dining table at the room’s head.
Clay sat to the right of the monarchs, dressed in a russet-colored Tenebrisian-style jacket with gleaming red buttons. He was engaged in conversation with Damon, the Imperial Prince seated beside him. To Clay’s left was an empty seat, likely meant for me. Beside it sat—
“Lady Moore,” Veric said, standing and clearing his throat. His smile was warm as he extended his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Veric Starsen.”
I stared at his outstretched hand for a moment too long, frozen in time as my mind tried to process what was happening.
He was here. He was real.
I was staring at the man I was going to have to stand by for the rest of my life, whether I liked it or not.
Unblinking, I drew my gaze from his outstretched hand up to his structured face. Veric was tall—nearly a foot taller than me, even with my heeled slippers. His sun-kissed skin glowed golden, and his striking blue eyes sparkled against his tanned complexion. He had neatly shorn his dark hair at the sides, tousled slightly on top in a deliberately messy style. As he smiled wider, extending his hand closer to me, I couldn’t help marveling at his impossibly sharp jawline.
He was beautiful.
And I felt absolutely nothing for him.
I couldn’t. Not when every part of me was so attuned to the dragon prince behind him, whose golden eyes burned into every inch of my exposed skin.
I risked a glance at Clay.
My prince’s heated eyes, glowing brilliantly, traced over me—from the crown of my head to the exposed skin of my thighs peeking through the slits of my skirt. His gaze lingered, lips curving into a slight smile and my pulse quickened as I realized he’d noticed the dagger strapped to my leg. I shifted slightly, trying to hide it.
Gods, it was too warm. My cheeks flushed, and I prayed the crowd would chalk it up to the nerves of a new bride rather than my complete inability to ignore Clayton Vail.
Nessira gently cleared her throat behind me and all too suddenly time fell into place again, as did the sudden awareness of all the eyes that lingered on the awkwardness of his hand waiting suspended in the air between us.
I sputtered, “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Veric,” and threw my arm forward to grasp his hand.
