Preparing for a state banquet was usually an exercise in vanity. Tonight, however, Aeron treated it like armoring for a siege.
Kaia stood before the gilded mirror in her dressing room, wearing a spectacular gown of midnight-blue velvet. The neckline was a wide, daring plunge that showcased her collarbones, drawing the eye directly to the fading, plum-colored bruise on her neck.
Victoria would have had a stroke. Aeron, however, looked entirely satisfied.
He stood behind her, dismissing the two trembling maids with a single, sharp flick of his wrist. As the door clicked shut, leaving them alone, Aeron reached into a black velvet box resting on the vanity.
He pulled out a necklace.
It wasn't a delicate chain or a string of subtle pearls. It was a heavy, breathtaking collar of solid Valdamar gold, dripping with deep, blood-red rubies. It was an ancient piece, loud, arrogant, and unmistakably royal.
