A messenger came to say that the king was waiting. And Catherine’s heart was suddenly beating hard.
“Let me check from all angles,” Tanya said, running round Catherine and tweaking the hang of the simple white and silver dress.
“Can we go now?”
“Yes, you’re looking perfect.”
They walked together to Tzsayn’s bedchamber where Tzsayn, General Davyon, and the chancellor were waiting.
Catherine was delighted that, for the first time since the operation, Tzsayn was out of his bed and dressed. In fact, he looked stunning in blue silk and leather with a fur trim at the collar and cuffs. To his jacket was pinned a white wissun blossom—the flower that Catherine had chosen as her emblem. He was sitting on one of two throne-like seats and he got to his feet with the help of a crutch and Davyon as Catherine entered.
Tanya escorted Catherine to the other throne and Catherine sat down, knowing that only then would Tzsayn return to his own seat. She smiled at him, and he smiled back and took her hand in his.
The marriage documents were already drawn up and laid out on a table. The wording was ambiguous enough that it could be interpreted that the marriage was a confirmation of the earlier, rushed ceremony that was supposed to have happened in Rossarb, while also being binding in and of itself.
Catherine confirmed her name and watched Tzsayn as he confirmed his. She promised she’d be a loyal wife and love her husband always, and Tzsayn returned these promises in kind. Then Tzsayn signed the document, and Catherine picked up the quill and put her name next to his.
Tzsayn took her hand again and kissed it.
“I’m happier than words can say, Catherine.”
Catherine wanted to laugh with happiness, and whispered, “I love you.”
“And I love you.” Tzsayn pulled her to him and nearly toppled from the chair, but he was laughing too as Davyon held him up.
The chancellor cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you now, Your Majesties.”
Davyon too excused himself, as did Tanya. A dinner was served for Catherine and Tzsayn alone.
“Do any of the servants suspect, do you think?”
“As far as anyone is concerned, this is a meal to celebrate my return to health, and your purchase of some ships.”
Catherine put on an exaggerated frown. “No mention of ships this afternoon, please.”
“Agreed, as long as you don’t ask about my leg. Which is fine. Savage has done his job well.”
“You’re not even tired?”
“I’m delighted to be out of that damned bed and wearing clothes again. But yes, as I must be honest with you, I’m a little tired, but very, very happy.”
They talked until evening, when more food was brought, the candles lit, and rose petals strewn across the floor.
“Everyone seems particularly attentive,” she said, though she felt like she was almost in a dream.
“I should hope so. I’m king. You’re queen.” Tzsayn smiled broadly. “And husband and wife too.” He leaned to her and kissed her lips. “And happy, I hope.”
“Very happy. I can’t quite believe it’s true, though.”
The war council that morning seemed like a lifetime ago, and she’d mostly managed not to think of the fighting. Time spent not thinking of war felt like a precious gift. She looked at Tzsayn and said, “If I’m being honest—which I must be—I’m a little nervous.”
“I’m nervous too.”
“Impossible!”
“It doesn’t happen often,” he said, leaning over to kiss her. “And I’m hoping this will help. You’re mine. I’m yours. We belong together.” He put his hand on her waist and pulled her to him. “Forever.”
Catherine stroked his cheek with her fingertips, the good cheek with perfect skin.
“For all my father’s faults—and I won’t waste our time by listing them—he did choose you as my husband. And he was right to do so. He did it for all the wrong reasons, but he chose the right man for me.”
Tzsayn shuddered. “I don’t want to think of him this evening. One night free of that monster would be good.”
“You’re right. This is not the night to talk of him. This is for us.” She smiled and stroked his cheek, this time the scarred one. It was smooth but uneven, like melted wax. Tzsayn turned his head so their lips met and they kissed again, their tongues touching, his arms holding her body to him and her hands reaching up his back.
Tzsayn began to unbutton his jacket with fumbling fingers.
Catherine giggled as she tried to help, saying, “The candlelight is very atmospheric, but I can’t see well enough to undo the