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there.”
    “That wouldn’t have been a good idea,” Danaë said, rubbing her forehead. In her peripheral vision she saw the golden gleam of her wedding ring, and held out her hand to study it. It was an elegant piece of jewelry. She wondered which member of Matthias’s retinue chose it. “You can’t go around punching foreign rulers because they had a moment of forgetfulness.”
    “Forgetfulness. Ha,” Darius said. “I call it insult.”
    “You aren’t helping matters, my prince,” Flavia said, handing Danaë a cup of mulled wine. “The man wore that ring for over two decades. Gods know if it’ll even come off anymore.”
    “Then he should have gotten a blacksmith to cut it off,” Darius snapped. “You didn’t see Dani’s face when she spotted it—”
    “I was startled, that’s all,” Danaë said. “And he did apologize.”
    Matthias had apologized again once they were escorted to the sacristy to sign the register. “I’ve worn it for so long, I forgot I still had it on,” he had explained in a low tone while Patriarch Reniel fussed over the ink pot and quills. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
    Deciding that forgiveness was the better way to start their marriage, Danaë had told him she understood and he wasn’t to worry about it. The new bride and groom then rode back to the palace to receive the congratulations and well wishes of what seemed to be the entire nobility of Ypres, with the occasional ambassador or minor royal from another kingdom thrown in to break up the monotony. After what seemed like hours they were finally allowed to head to the grand hall for the wedding feast, with a brief stop for Danaë to change into her more manageable reception gown.
    It was cut in a similar style to her wedding gown, but in sea green instead of pale blue and without the billowing train. When she rejoined her new husband Matthias had blinked at her change of garb but said nothing, turning instead to greet the first of the nobles. Taking her place at his side, Danaë fell back on her years of diplomatic training to manage the constant stream of faces. I’ll need to add someone from the court to my staff to act as social advisor. Perhaps Lady Margot can suggest someone.
    “In any case, we’re married now,” she concluded, rubbing her thumb against the underside of her ring. “We’ll have to learn how to get along with each other.”
    Her brother stopped pacing. “You are Queen of Hellas and Empress of the Eastern Sea,” he snapped. “You don’t have to tolerate rudeness, not even from King Matthias IV himself.”
    Her headache throbbed. “Holding a grudge is not the most auspicious way to begin a marriage,” she said. “Besides, I tolerate rudeness from you all the time.”
    “That’s different. I’m family.”
    “So is Matthias.”
    Her twin blew out a disgusted breath. “Don’t remind me. I’m just glad you emerged into this ridiculous world ahead of me. If it had been me up there, I would have punched him.”
    Danaë tried to lighten her tone. “Would this be with or without your hypothetical dress?”
    A corner of his mouth curled up. “Touché. All right, I won’t challenge him to a duel over this.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “But remember I’m in your corner, sister dear, no matter what.”
    “I know, brother dear, and I love you for it.” She patted his arm. “Go downstairs and rejoin the revelry. I need to get ready for my wedding night.”
    “Now there’s a thought,” Darius said, snapping his fingers. “If you wear the old man out, he might die in his sleep and you would become sole ruler of both countries at a single stroke.” He winked. “So to speak.”
    Danaë pointed at the door. “Out.”
    Darius paused to give her a grandiose bow before leaving.
    “I thought he’d never go,” Flavia grumbled as she fussed around Danaë. “I have no idea why your father made him an ambassador.”
    “Darius knows when to be diplomatic and