The Royal Wedding 

~ ZARA ~

I sat at the beautiful vanity that they had brought into David's quarters for me, inlaid in gold filigree, with an oval-topped mirror as tall as I was, but mounted above it.

I'd pretended to throw a fit when there was a shadow cast across the mirror by the headboard of David's huge bed, so they'd rushed servants in to mount lamps to either side of it.

I hated playing that game, but David had been utterly clear: Everyone needed to believe I was now in control of the Arinel crown—and David's jewels—so that it would keep my father questioning whether I was remaining a Physicist.

It had been a few weeks since his last disaster of a wedding. But neither of us cared much about the ceremony beyond finally being free to show ourselves to the world, so we'd just repeated all his plans with Lizbeth and set the servants on their way.