“Alessandra,” the king says in a voice only I can hear. “You’ve made me happy again. You’ve given me hope and become an invaluable confidante and the greatest of friends. A—a woman I could love.” Love. Could love. If he let himself. Which he won’t. Then he raises his voice for the whole room to hear. “Lady Alessandra Stathos, will you be my queen? My equal in all things? A protector and ruler of Naxos and the conquered realms? Will you marry me?” “Yes.”
