Dusk of the Realm

19

When she entered the throne room, Tarin's heart skipped a beat. Two beats. Three beats.

It only started pumping again when he saw that she immediately began to search the room, but stopped the moment she met his gaze and gave him that glorious smile. Her cheeks had a rosy glow, her lips were a glossy, rich red that made him swallow convulsively, her hair was only partly held back with a silver pin, the rest left free to flow wherever the waves took it. He noticed that long satin silver gloves covered the evidence of her scars.

And her dress... her dress.

It was composed of a silver lace, with a sophisticated dip in the front that nevertheless had heads turning. There were no straps, but rather it was a halter neck, once again exposing her bare back - except this time, the ends of a lace ribbon holding her gown up were dangling down her spine. He had never seen anything so beautiful, never seen anything that so resembled what he imagined would be moonlight personified.

And she was choosing to smile at him. Him.

"She's gorgeous, isn't she? All these years of dreaming of what she would look like now, and she's more beautiful than I could ever have pictured myself. An angel, sent back to us at last."

Tarin turned to the queen, who looked quite stunning in her own right, though her hair was pulled back severely, and her sleek white gown covered nearly every inch of her skin. Her eyes were slightly glazed as she smiled at Tarin, and she did not even wait for him to respond before moving forward to meet Serena halfway, embracing her as her arrival was announced for all the room to hear.

Tarin had dressed up as best he could while still keeping comfortable enough to use his weapons at a moment's notice. He was wearing royal blue trousers, with a matching velvet tunic and vest with silver trimmings and designs along the front. He never cared much what he wore, as long as there were black boots on his feet light yet durable enough to run in for miles upon any terrain. Leather, of course, but naturally from animals that had already passed, and who had been lovingly given over to the spirits, and whose hides had been blessed by more than just one Fae. Those he had specially made, but the rest? He had money, clearly, but he had no interest in clothes. Serena, however, had always loved the different fabrics, patterns, designs, and so he at least knew what was expensive and classy and what was not considered so.

For the hundredth time, he noted the positions of his Wolves, along with the identities and locations of the other guards. He was determined that nothing slip past his notice.

The twins were on either side of the entrance, closely examining anybody that walked inside the room, and surveying them with their magic as well with undetectable spells that would alert them to dangerous tricks. So far so good, apparently.

Dallin and Birches were on the east and west sides of the room, respectively. He had stationed Ambrose on the balcony above them to overlook the whole scene. Archers were typically more comfortable on higher ground, and Tarin had thought Ambrose had seemed pleased when he had first informed him that they would be attending the party, but every time he had looked his way tonight, the archer had seemed to be internally brewing about something. If Tarin was closer to him, he would tell him to knock it off with the moping and glaring, to put on a show of contentment for the guests at least. For now, however, he was unwilling to leave his spot between the thrones, especially once Serena and her mother resumed their approach.

They settled into the seats with a rustling of fabrics, and Tarin absently sidled closer to Serena's throne as the first honored guests came to greet her.

They inclined their heads to Triana first, then turned to Serena with a few of the most kindly expressions Tarin had ever seen. They made him wish he had never yelled at them the way he did, though he had already apologized profusely for doing so, and they had already waved him off more than once.