72: Emma

The conversation flowed as easily as the wine, weaving between childhood stories and gentle teasing. I found myself studying Theo's profile as he laughed at something my brother said—the elegant line of his jaw, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. Just a week ago, he'd been a stranger, maybe even a potential threat. Now, something warm and undefined bloomed in my chest whenever he looked at me.

By the time dessert arrived—a confection of dark chocolate and forest berries—the formal dinner had transformed into something that felt remarkably like a family meal. The politics and posturing of the room faded to background noise.

"I think I need some air," I murmured to Theo as the servers cleared away our plates. "Just for a moment."

His eyes met mine, understanding immediately. "There's a balcony just through those doors."

We excused ourselves, and I felt a momentary pang of self-consciousness as eyes tracked our departure. But then Theo was opening a glass door, and cool night air washed over my face, carrying the scent of night-blooming flowers and distant pine.

The balcony overlooked the royal gardens, silver in the moonlight. Stone benches lined the perimeter, but I moved to the railing instead, resting my hands on the cool marble. Theo came to stand beside me, his presence solid and reassuring.

For a while, we just stood in companionable silence, watching the moon cast shadows across the perfectly manicured landscape below. The weight of the evening—of the entire week—settled around my shoulders, not crushing but substantial.

"What happens now?" I finally asked, my voice quiet against the night. "With Benjamin, I mean."

Theo turned slightly, his profile etched in moonlight and shadow. "We'll interrogate him first, as he's the one who directly harmed you. Then we'll move through the rest, from Minister Krea to Lord Cassius. Once we've extracted whatever information we can, they'll face public trial and sentencing."

I swallowed, remembering Benjamin's face twisted with rage, the feeling of his teeth against my skin. "What's the likely sentence?"

Theo's expression darkened. "It will be quite steep, Emma. Forcing a marking is a serious offense regardless of circumstances, but when it's against a member of the royal family—which, as my mate, you are—the ramifications increase dramatically." He hesitated, then added more softly, "The traditional punishment for such a crime is execution."

The word hung in the night air between us. I'd never liked Benjamin—feared him, even—but execution seemed so final, so medieval.

"And there's no alternative?" I asked.

"There are options. Permanent imprisonment. Exile beyond the kingdom's borders." His hand found mine on the railing. "You'll have a voice in this, Emma. As the wronged party, and as Queen."

Queen. The title still felt like borrowed clothing, too grand and unwieldy for my frame. And yet, standing here with Theo, discussing the fate of people who had conspired against us both, I couldn't deny the mantle of responsibility that now rested on my shoulders.

I nodded, turning so I could nestle against his chest, seeking his warmth against the cool night air. His arms came around me without hesitation, strong and secure. I listened to the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my ear, drawing comfort from its unwavering pace.

"We'll face it together," he murmured into my hair. "All of it."

I tilted my head back to look at him, this man who'd become so important to me in such a short time. His eyes caught the moonlight, turning them to liquid amber. "Together," I agreed.

His hand rose to cup my cheek, thumb brushing lightly across my bottom lip. His touch sent a current of awareness through me, warm and electric. When he leaned down, I rose to meet him halfway, our lips finding each other with a certainty that belied how new this was between us.

The kiss was gentle at first, a question and an answer all at once. Then his arm tightened around my waist, drawing me closer until I could feel the heat of him against the length of my body. My hands found their way to his shoulders, then his neck, fingers threading through the soft hair at his nape.

When we finally parted, both slightly breathless, the night seemed different somehow—full of possibilities I hadn't dared imagine before. Whatever challenges awaited us—trials and sentencings, centuries of prejudice to overcome, a kingdom to unite—in that moment, with the taste of him still on my lips and the solid strength of him against me, I believed we could face them.

Together.