Page 47 of The Chains You Defy

Our conversation and my pondering were interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by a stranger dressedin royal livery entering our suite. My throat tightened, and I fought hard to swallow down the lump forming in there.

“Your Royal Highness Crown Prince Dionadair, Miss Ortha, would you kindly allow me to escort you to your audience with Queen Anneria?”

My heartbeat sped up and beat like a drum once more. During the discussion with Dion, I’d been able to forget the upcoming meeting with my queen, but the arrival of her herald tore my peace apart.

“Deep breaths, Nayana. Then take my arm.” Dion’s purr was a mere whisper passing the shell of my ear, and I noticed that I’d missed how he’d gotten up or approached me.

For once, I followed his order without question. My lungs expanded and constricted every time I filled them with air as I got up and took the arm he offered. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, Nayana, anytime.”

Following the herald, I realized I couldn’t even tell how long I’d already stayed in the castle or how many days I’d flitted in and out of consciousness in the period after Dion had carried me out from Perran Feroy’s dungeon.

Meaning, this was the first time that I’d exited the suite, and the anxiety clenching my stomach like a vise wasn’t only a result of being nervous about meeting royalty—after all, the male on my arm was a princehimself, as I reminded myself time and time again—but also because of leaving the safe bubble I’d recovered in.

“Is there anything I have to heed for this meeting?”

“Stop worrying.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“You aren’t familiar with every protocol, so what? The queen doesn’t want to mingle with you to test your impeccable court manners, but because she desires a conversation.”

“Still, she’s a queen.”

Dion shot me a dark glare accompanied by an amused chuckle, and his thoughts were basically screaming at me. “So?”

“A queen—my queen—is a big difference from a foreign princeling who hid his status for months. That one doesn’t deserve any special treatment, and I’d stab him if he tried to implement anything.”

The usual muscle ticked in Dion’s cheek as I used my favorite nickname for him. He was surprisingly touchy about the moniker I’d chosen, which made me grin. After all, he’d dubbed me after a poisonous flower and used that term for months. Served him right to suffer as well.

“Simply be yourself, but maybe hide this newfound violent streak against royalty, and everything will be fine. I’ll let you know if something is about to go sideways.” Apart from the twitching muscle, Dion remained surprisingly calm, and I wondered about the overall change in his behavior.

Just weeks ago, he would most likely have crowded me into the nearest hard surface to dominate the cheekiness right out of me. Maybe the surroundings were influencing him? That people in power were well aware of whohe was, even though he wore his human Glamour? Or had he finally gotten his temper under control?

Ha, wishful thinking.

After his last comment, we stayed silent as we traversed through the maze of corridors, but our small conversation had distracted me at least a little, and I was slightly more relaxed. It was hard to explain, but even though he was an infuriating, lying bastard, Dion always managed to ground and soothe me. Another thing I refused to analyze more closely.

The herald came to a stop in front of a set of beautiful, high double doors made from light wood embellished with floral carvings. Before I could observe the design more closely, he opened the entryway and disappeared into the room. I was about to follow him, but Dion tugged me back.

“We have to wait until we’re asked inside.”

“See, that’s something you should have told me when I asked if there was something important to regard.”

“Why?”

“So I don’t make a fool of myself.”

“You won’t, because I’m here to keep an eye on you.”

Our whispered conversation was cut short when the herald’s voice rang out loud enough for us to hear clearly. “Her Royal Majesty Queen Anneria of Ivreia will receive you now, Your Royal Highness Crown Prince Dionadair Dorchadas Coroin De’An Scriosta of Galanta and Miss Nayana Garnet Ortha of Credenta.”

As the herald ushered us into the salon, I briefly wondered if the man in livery was aware of Dion’s true nature, given the fact he’d addressed him by his full name and freaking title. And world. So, he had to be in the picture.

Ivreia didn’t have more royals than the king and queen anyway, except for the elderly mother of the king.

My pondering was stopped when the princeling tugged at my arm yet again.