She had even more curves than he’d imagined. Heels lengthened her impossibly long legs, which were clearly outlined for the first time since he’d seen them by garments that actually fit. She held her shoulders straight, her posture holding the same determination he’d witnessed her summoning for him, and the effect only enhanced her high-breasted glory.
Her mask was immense, its rays stretching out to create an invisible bubble between her and anyone who might get too close to her radiant form.
She wasn’t merely gorgeous.
She was the force of gravity at the center of the universe.
And she was walking the red carpet early.
Without him.
He pulled out his phone at the same time as its buzzing began in earnest. Alert after alert—curated courtesy of the fact that he’d set a news alert to monitor mentions of the Queen—popped up on his screen.
As images of her loaded, blood rushed in his ears, and he acknowledged to himself that he was not going to finish the trade agreements.
Pushing his chair away from his desk, he stood and stepped around the heavy furniture.
His assistant, still scrolling through images himself, started at the King’s sudden movement, but quickly followed as Zayn strode out of his office.
As they walked, Zayn instructed him to have his closet man prepare his clothes and his barber meet him in his parlor.
It was time to get ready for the ball.
His clothing arrived in his room at the same time as he did and he dressed quickly, appreciating the ease of perfect tailoring. One never had to worry how one looked when one’s clothes were made for one’s body.
Commissioned for the event, the tuxedo was entirely black, made from thick Chinese silk. Each element of his attire, from the jacket to the butter-smooth button-down shirt, was perfectly coordinated and fitted to his body alone. Nothing about anything he wore spoke of it being a costume, and yet when he placed the midnight domino mask on his face there was no mistaking him for anything other than the King of the night himself.
The unforgiving black of the silk absorbed all light that touched it, calling to mind a dark moonless night in the dead of winter.
How convenient that Mina was the sun personified.
Ten minutes later he was in his car, on his way.
His driver pulled up and cameras flashed as he stepped out onto the red carpet.
His arrival had disrupted the flow of other prominent citizens, but he didn’t slow for photos, reaching the entrance stairs quickly and taking them two at a time.
The lobby of the grand theater had been transformed, though he had little attention for its grandeur as he cut through the parting crowd.
Inside, all of the seats had been removed and temporary flooring installed, creating the impression of walking upon a vast expanse of space. In fact the entire lower half of the large room had become the night sky, brought indoors. Taking advantage of the theater’s classic gilded ceilings, the upper half of the room was an homage to daylight. Balconies had become starbursts and sunbeams. And the stage was the meeting of day and night—a twilight alcove, romantically furnished, clearly the resting place for the stars of the evening: the King and the Queen.
But she was not there.
Instead, she stood across the room, engrossed in conversation with the French ambassador.
Zayn’s brow crinkled in irritation. The ambassador was a lecherous middle-aged man who had no business standing so close to the Queen of Cyrano—especially not with that appreciative light in his eyes.
Not that he could blame him.
She was divine. And she was the true meaning of the word “radiant” as a petite woman dressed all in black led her along the outer edge of the ballroom.
Moustafa and d’Tierrza followed at a close distance behind them.
The theater was crowded, with barely enough room to move around. Even this early in the evening elegantly costumed couples spun around the dance floor in the center of the room, while other partygoers milled about anywhere there was room. Wait staff carrying trays laden with champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres wove through the crowd, handing out their wares.
For a moment, Zayn simply watched her.
Awareness of his presence, however, soon spread through the crowd, bringing a hush to the group despite the fact that the music continued.