Is it generosity when his god feeds off the excess of a day such as this?
Veil’s pale blue gown appears iridescent in this light, the golden rays of the setting sun dancing across her tattooed skin as she peers out from the car window.
Her ravishing face is devoid of nerves. Quite the contrary. And how proud I was of her when we first arrived at the ceremony. She commanded attention and knew her place among us, demanding the space.
“A return to where it all started,” I say softly, my attention still steadfastly locked on Veil.
She startles ever so slightly, as if pulled out of a daydream, before turning her gaze to me. Her small, knowing smile tells me she remembers me saying those exact words the last time we came to Aleksandr’s estate over a month ago.
“I’ll have you on a leash next bacchanal,” she answers teasingly.
I purse my lips in tickled amusement. “Promise?” I purr.
Veil’s laugh floats up between us, and I wish I could reach out and pluck it out of thin air so as to keep it forever.
The driver opens the car door, and I climb out before offering my hand to Veil.
“Ready?” I ask into her hair after she gracefully steps out, giving her a quick kiss above her ear.
“The daunting part has already passed — don’t you think?” she says assuredly.
I know she’s referring to the swarm of paparazzi outside the ceremony hall, marking today as her official induction into the ruling families. By tomorrow, the city of Pravitia will be abuzz with the news. Of course, Wolfgang will be carefully pulling the strings of the narrative from behind the scenes.
Veil grins as she pulls me onto the path leading up to the entrance, brown eyes twinkling. “Now let’s have some fun.”
“Where’s your husband?”
I plop down beside Mercy on the long bench outside, facing the backyard, the maze looming majestically beyond it.
For the reception, she changed out of her extravagant wedding dress into something more classic. She’s the picture of elegance in her slinky black dress, the slit up her left thigh framing the dagger and harness she can’t live without.
There’s no one out here but us, and I can tell her guard is down by the shy smile she gives me and her idle toying with the pendant around her neck. I even catch the subtle flush across her cheeks at the wordhusband.
“I’m not his keeper,” Mercy answers haughtily, taking a long drag of her clove cigarette as she peers up at the stars.
I stretch my legs out in front of me, crossing one ankle over the other, and clasp my hands behind my head, leaning on the back of the bench. “Could have fooled me,” I mutter, my gaze now on the night sky.
There’s a long silence until we both burst out laughing. And the sound of her laughter is both a shock and an absolute delight.
“You’ve changed, love,” I say with a pleased sigh.
She turns to look at me, her green eyes piercing. “Don’t remind me.”
I study her some more as she takes another drag of her cigarette, her wine-red lipstick staining the filter.
“Are you happy?” I ask.
She scoffs, as if dismissing the very notion of my question. “Happiness, such a banal emotion.” She pauses. The sounds of the festivities inside are muted but still boisterous. Then, reluctantly, she adds, “Yes.”
I choke on a laugh at her admission. She’s softened since falling in love. There would be hell to pay if I dared to say it out loud, so I sit with the feeling on my own, beaming up at the starry night.
“And what about you?”
“I’m always happy, love,” I respond with a grin.
She slaps my arm, and a chuckle rumbles in my chest. “Don’t be facetious; you know I’m talking about the girl.”
“Thegirl,” I say as I straighten up on the bench, “is a servant just like us, Mercy, and she deserves your respect.”
