The Shattered Way (Champions of the Crystal Book 7)

Chapter 8.2

At long last they reached the door, which a footman opened and then closed firmly behind them. On the other side, they could hear the Steward directing people to the ballroom for drinks.

"Oh my God!" Sabrina exclaimed, leaning against Ford. "You didn't tell me it would be a riot!"

He laughed, holding her up with one strong arm. "The worst is over. Come on, let's get freshened up for our grand entrance. We'll give them all time to get a drink and sit down first."

"I need a drink!" Sabrina said.

"Don't worry, you'll get more than you want during the toasts," Ford said, leading her through the halls and up the stairs.

"My stuff is all downstairs," Sabrina protested. "I need my hairbrush at the very least!"

"It was all moved during the announcement," Ford said.

"You made your household staff work during the announcement?"

"It's traditional," he protested. "All your things got moved to where they belong now that you're the princess. We will give a special dinner and gifts to the staff later on. Just be glad we're not following the very old traditions where all your old stuff gets burned and replaced with things from Bathir!"

"Thank heavens for modern times," Sabrina said as they reached Ford's suite—theirs now, she realized, looking around with a new perspective.

"You'll want to refurbish your dressing room and closet," he remarked, "since I didn't have time and they haven't been used in five hundred years."

"At least they're clean," Sabrina said, inspecting the faded grandeur. "It reminds me of my apartment when I first got it. Like living in a museum. Oh, Ford. Don't tell me."

She was staring in dismay at the jewelry case on the dressing table. Ford said, "You can't get out of it any longer, Sabrina. You won't have to wear a crown until your investiture, but I'll have to insist on the tiara. And I got you something you hopefully won't mind wearing."

"A gift, or more traditional obligation?"

"Both." He handed her a small box. "The signet ring of the last reigning Princess of Bathir was destroyed when she died in the Xoentrol invasion. I had a new one made for you. A tradition that starts with us."

Sabrina opened the box and found the ring to be a great relief: instead of the bulky, ornate ring that was Ford's signet, this was a graceful twining of white gold and watergems, with the crest of Bathir worked into the design. "It's beautiful. I'm sure none of our descendants will object to wearing it."

"Just as long as you don't," Ford said. He took the ring from her and began to slide it onto her right hand.

"Wait," Sabrina said. She twisted her mother's engagement ring off her right ring finger. After a moment, she said, "The tradition in my culture is the exchange of rings, worn on the left hand."

"By all means, let us observe both," Ford said. He slid the signet onto her right ring finger and then carefully fit the diamond solitaire onto her left. Sabrina felt tears welling up as he lifted both her hands to his lips.

"Now I really feel married," she whispered.

Ford chuckled. "I'm glad, since we've already signed the legally binding contract." He paused, then said with relish, "Sabrina nar Devon zu Tassan. It has a ring to it."

Sabrina smiled. "I already had the Tassan name. It seems superfluous to have it twice! But Ford nar Tassan zu Devon—now, that's an unusual name!"

"Well, it's not my legal one," Ford pointed out. "I'm going to go brush my hair too—ah, Ranja, I was just wondering where you were."