Iree collapsed into her bed, giddy with laughter and excitement.
She loved weddings, all of the joy and the celebration, but this wedding she would remember forever, possibly even after her own, if such a thing was in her future.
The King had been among the guests and he had danced with her, even though she was a nobody. He'd paid her pretty compliments and, when the feast was over, they had continued with their own private celebration.
Iree was no fool; she knew that the King would never take her away with him, no matter how many sweet nothings he'd whispered to her in the dark.
So she was not surprised or much heartbroken when she watched the King and his party depart two days later.
She knew that he would soon be whispering honeyed words in other willing ears; still, he had been kind to her while they were together and she did not regret it.
She still could not bring herself to regret it on her wedding day, three months later, as she absently rubbed her stomach that had not yet swollen enough to give her away.