insistent wave of his hand.
Her eyes widened, and she glanced to Damian, which made Steraph growl again.
“She’s an Earthling,” Jayce blurted out as an excuse. He sure didn’t want Izzie getting off on the wrong foot simply because she didn’t understand that a Bromondi man—especially a king—was supposed to be obeyed immediately and without question.
Damian took a hold of her elbow and hurried her over to reach Steraph. Damian bowed, as did Izzie, perhaps not realizing that women were supposed to affect a more formal curtsy when in the king’s presence.
Jayce couldn’t help but smile. Not my Izzie . She knew. After working here as long as she had, she knew. She even had the audacity to meet Steraph’s gaze head-on. Steraph and Izzie stared at each other for a few interminable moments before the king smiled. “Your name is?”
“Izabella Szabo, Your Majesty.”
“Who do you belong to?” A typical Bromondi question, as common as asking a man what he did for a living. Jayce waited to see just how she’d reply, wanting to know if the courage he’d seen inside her would hold up in the face of Steraph’s intense glare.
“I belong to no man. I am my own keeper.”
Jayce smiled, pleased to see Damian doing so as well.
“You speak freely,” Steraph said. “Probably because you’re an Earthling. No respectable Bromondi man would want a woman who cannot submit to his will. You’ll never fit in here.”
The insult made her eyes fling daggers, yet she held her tongue. Damian’s face flushed an angry red, and he clenched his fists at his side. Since Jayce felt the same need to protect her as Damian, he shared the fury. As if a woman like Izzie needs our help…
Steraph dismissed her by curtly turning his back, his way of marking her as beneath him. That action, deliberate and abrupt as it was, pushed Jayce over the edge. While he’d endured his father’s contempt and disappointment for years, he felt as if he needed to shield the woman he loved, whether she wanted his assistance or not. The time had come to let Steraph know that somewhere inside the son he viewed as less than worthy resided a man strong enough to one day be a formidable king—a king who would make his own mark on Bromond.
Striding over to stand at Izzie’s side, Jayce reached up to cup her covered cheek in his palm. His gaze searched hers, hoping she understood what he wanted. Her eyes sparkled, making him grin, just as he knew she smiled beneath the hated veil.
“Go ahead, Jayce,” she whispered. “Show him what you can do when you’re king.” Then she gave him the nod he was waiting for.
“Father!” he shouted. “Wait!”
The king whirled back to face them, his mouth agape, nostrils flaring as he huffed a few breaths. “You dare to order me?”
“I’m asking you,” Jayce added, “to give me another moment of your time.” Inside, he pumped his fist in triumph, glad to have come across with the kind of arrogance necessary to deal with Steraph.
“What do you want?”
“There’s one more thing I’d like to tell you about Izzie.”
“Izzie?” The confusion on the king’s face revealed that he’d already dismissed any thought of her from his mind. Not surprising. The man had never given any woman—including any of his wives—a second thought.
Jayce set his hand on Izzie’s shoulder. “This is Izzie. You just met her. Remember?”
His father folded his arms over his chest. “What about her?”
“She’s going to be my wife!” His voice was loud enough for everyone in the gathering to hear. As Jayce looked around to be sure all of the people in the crowd watched, he lifted his hand and yanked the veil from her face. A collective gasp rose from the crowd, the loudest coming from Steraph.
With his stare locked on his father, Jayce jerked the wenora from Izzie’s hair. She’d tied it up into a ponytail, so he pulled the leather tie away, letting her glorious red mane spill down around her