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When he breaks away, he backs up, his eyes heating as he takes me in. “I like seeing you in my jewels,” he admits. His eyes flick to my head. “Would you like your veil?”

Because I am to ride into his city as his bride. Just like the Romans and their triumphs, this is a victorious parade. It would only be appropriate if I played the part of his foreign betrothed.

I smile at him. “Yes.”

Memnon smiles back at me, his eyes full of banked fire, while his magic pulls the stowed-away veil from the wagon Ferox currently lounges in.

It is wrinkled and a bit travelworn, but as it floats through the air, then settles on my head, Memnon’s magic mends and smooths it out.

He’s staring at me still.

“What?” I say.

“I’m going to try something, but you might hate it.”

Before I can form a response, Memnon’s magic lifts dozens of wildflowers from the grass around us.

A laugh escapes me as they come together and form a flower crown, then settle atop my head. I touch it, my heart feeling lightas air and bright as the moon. “You couldn’t make me hate it if you tried,” I say.

He lifts his brows. “Oh, I seriously doubt that.” But he’s grinning; we both are. Memnon steps forward, his eyes nearly glowing.

Do you feel like an imposter now?

Yes, I answer without hesitation.

Surly thing, he says fondly, his gaze dropping to my lips again.Ride at my side so that I might proudly show you off to them all.

I’m nodding, even though the prospect is terrifying. I don’t think I’m capable of denying Memnon anything at this point.

Less than an hour later, the group of us is mounted once more, the men wearing their gleaming armor, Memnon his crown, and I my jewels, my orange veil blowing at my back.

Memnon looks like a god, his armor-clad body swaying in the saddle with every step his horse takes, the gold pieces of it flashing in the late-afternoon sunlight.

Some time ago, Memnon’s people caught sight of us, and now they’ve lined the road into the city.

Once they catch sight of their king, they begin to cheer wildly, the sound drowning out everything but my own panicked thoughts. I can feel myself trembling, my muscles tightening with nerves, when Memnon’s indigo magic reaches me. It slips into my mouth and down my throat. For a moment, it tingles my flesh, and then I exhale, my nerves leaving me with my breath.

All will be well, little witch, he says, adoration tinging his words.I am right here with you. Always with you.

A wave of tenderness for this man comes over me as we ride on, and I think Sarmatia is blessed to have such a man as king.

Now that my own thoughts are unclouded, I slip into Ferox’s head, concerned for my panther. Like me, he is on edge as he stares at the gathered crowd of people from his seat in the creaky wagon. They point at us—at him—their eyes wide.

Ferox does not have the best association with large groups of people, not after what he endured. So when I return to my own head, I send my magic back to him, casting a wordless spell meant to soothe his nerves the way Memnon’s power soothed mine.

Several children dash out to us, a couple shouting to Sattion and Itaxes, the rest encircling Memnon’s horse.

My husband laughs, leaning over to tousle their hair. “Thank you for the warm welcome,” he murmurs.

The children glance shyly at me before moving on to greet the other soldiers.

“These are all your people?” I ask, staring at them.

“This is but a fraction of our people, my queen. We rule over a confederation of tribes that stretch from the Danubius River to the Tanais.”

Once we enter the city proper, I see that it is not truly a city, not like I am familiar with, but rather an enormous settlement. Everywhere I look, there is an endless sea of covered wagons and tents made of felt and hide. Most of the structures appear as light as the wings of a bird, and I suppose that’s the point. Nothing is permanent when you’re a nomad.

I stick close to Memnon’s side as we make our way to the center of the massive encampment. Behind the swell of the crowds, I can see tents, pens with animals such as sheep and goats, and stalls where produce, textiles, jewelry, and weapons are for sale. It may not be as permanent a city as Rome, but it functions just as Rome does.