Prince Giannis gets down the platform and strides towards me. He lifts my chin with his fingers, then wipes my tears with his thumbs. Before any of us can say anything, Queen Esther’s voice booms in the air.
“Giannis!”
She’s like a rare bomb that has unlimited explosions. Her face is redder and tighter than earlier. Her golden crown is slightly tilted from her white, neatly tied-up hair. And her eyes are crackling an even dangerous form of fury.
Prince Giannis turns to face his mother, then says, “Marguerite and I will leave the castle before sunrise. We’re both quitting the ceremony.”
My heart thuds both in exuberance and in panic. Exuberance that he’s proving that I’m more important than anything else and panic that Queen Esther and her high officials might do something unwanted to
