Blood Runner: Book Three of the Empress Saga

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Far more people than Enfri had expected filled the Salt Stone Palace's throne room. This was only her second time here, the first being for Sasha's hurried and informal coronation following the Battle of Ecclesia. Nobles and wealthy goodfolk from the city and surrounding lands had come in droves. They packed between the white columns that supported the high-vaulted ceiling, from the spellwrought iron doors to the dais of the Sea Throne itself.

Sasha Romov stood in front of the king's seat, addressing his people. He wore a cerulean double-breasted coat embroidered with silver. The kraken sigil of House Romov was emblazoned upon his trailing cloak. Sasha wore a more elaborate crown than the one he'd been using. It was made of interwoven bronze bands adorned with precious stones.

The young king was praising those gathered for their work in beginning to rebuild what the First Legion had destroyed. Sasha spoke of the hardships that lay ahead and that he and his house would stand with them through the worst of it. And, though he didn't so much as imply it with either his words or tone, he thanked them for coming to witness what was essentially a betrayal of who he was.

Enfri and Jin stood off to the left of the throne. They wore white and held bouquets of amaranth. The purple flower bloomed throughout the year, untouched by frost and ice. It was a symbol of eternity, of everlasting love. It carried a deep and rich fragrance, sweet as any rose.

Ban and Pacifica stood at Sasha's other side. Pacifica also wore white and held a bouquet of her own. Ban cut quite the dashing figure in his gray paladin's uniform and held forth a bared half blade cradled in his palms.

As weddings among the great houses went, this was a rushed affair. The public announcement and distribution of the invitations had only been the previous day. It would have been scandalous in normal times, but the Altieri weren't ones for distracting themselves with ceremony when there was work to be done. Enfri mused that this wedding felt less like a joining of two lives together and more like tearing off a bandage that was stuck to the patient's flesh. Best to yank it off with one swift motion than draw out the pain.

She listened to Sasha's speech with only half an ear. Her own thoughts occupied her attention. Though she stood close to Jin and took as much comfort from her presence as she could, Enfri dwelled on what this wedding represented for her personally.

Sasha was making a sacrifice, as was Lady Deimi. Both were going through with this travesty for the good of their houses and Ecclesia. That the Drunov's feckless social-climbing was largely behind it hardly mattered anymore. Enfri even supposed she couldn't fault Lord Vago in the end. He wasn't doing anything worse than following the Althandi ideal. He saw an opportunity to further his house's ambitions, and he'd taken it. By holding the service of his armsmen over Sasha's head, he had assured House Drunov's place among royalty.

Therein lay Enfri's newest and deepest fear, that there may come a time that her bloodline and new title would require her to act against her own heart. She hadn't spoken of this to Jin. Winds, but with the revelations over the past couple days, Jin must have been one of the spirits' blessed saints if she hadn't fled already.

She turned her head slightly to look sidelong at her love. Jin caught the movement and gave a tiny smile in return. Despite herself, Enfri felt a little better.

But at the same time, she was at a loss. How could a person, princess or otherwise, be exactly who Enfri needed at all times? Since showing up on Enfri's doorstep to whisk her away on horseback, Jin had never shown herself to be anything but devoted, protective, selfless, and loving. She was also gentle, determined, strong, and ever so beautiful. And those muscles... Enfri had long come to terms with the fact that a pair of strong arms was her most dire of weaknesses. How could someone such as Jin Algara be real?