“Oh, my mate, my heart.” John went to one knee in the doorway, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from her long enough to bow his head as etiquette demanded. “I am overjoyed to see you properly honored at last.”

Finally, she was surrounded by the luxury she deserved. The Imperial apartments had obviously been hastily re-opened and prepared for her; only a few pieces of furniture had as yet been recovered from storage and returned to their proper places. But the lapis lazuli and turquoise floor was mirror-bright from frantic polishing, and embroidered drapes of the finest cerulean silk had been hung over the carved coral bed. Fresh light-pearls had been fitted into the wall sconces, casting out the gentle silver radiance of the full moon.

Amidst all this splendor, Neridia herself shone like a black pearl in an exquisite jewelry box. She’d changed out of her bedraggled human garments into a soft, simple robe, the white silk flowing over her curves like water. Bands of tiny seed-pearls formed intricate designs of curling waves around the neckline and hem.

Sat at the gilded vanity table, straight-backed, hands folded in her lap, she looked every inch the Empress she was. Beautiful. Composed. Regal.

Remote, his inner human muttered uneasily.

His human was right. She was breathtaking, but it was a distant sort of beauty, like the moon behind clouds. No matter how he reached out to her down the mate bond, she slipped through his fingers, untouchable as fog.

“Something is bothering you,” he said, concerned. “What is it? What has happened?”

Neridia didn’t look at him. Given that she was contemplating a selection of the Crown Jewels, set out on the vanity table for her pleasure, John could hardly blame her preoccupation. Still, his unease grew.

He mentally shook himself, chastising himself for his own arrogance. Of course I cannot presume to be so familiar with her anymore. Not now that she has claimed her rightful place at last.

The Knight-Commander had told him the good news personally. Neridia had been able to enter the Throne room, and the Pearl Throne itself had responded to her touch. True, she still had not yet shifted, but now even the Knight-Commander could not deny that she was indeed the rightful Empress.

Even now, the Knight-Commander was in conclave with the Sea Council. John had no doubt that his superior would be able to persuade the other sea lords to accept Neridia as the heir to the Throne. Soon, all of Atlantis would echo with songs of rejoicing.

She is the Pearl Empress. And now…now she truly understands what that means.

John forced himself to fix his gaze to the floor as her station demanded. “My Empress-“

“Don’t call me that.”

John’s head jerked up in surprise at the bitter note in her voice. She’d picked up the crown of the Empress-in-Waiting. She turned the heavy gold circlet round in her hands, as though examining the pearls and sapphires that adorned it. Still, John had a strange certainty that she wasn’t even seeing the wondrous gems.

Abandoning formality, John rose. A little stiff from his half-healed wounds, he crossed the room to her side. She still didn’t look up at him.

“My mate.” John crouched again—not in any sort of formal bow, just in order to put their faces level with each other. “Please tell me what is wrong.”

Neridia let out her breath, carefully putting the crown back down onto the vanity unit. “John, if I told you that someone had…if I told you that someone had upset me, what would you do?”

“Someone has upset you?” John’s hand instinctively flew to his sword-hilt. “Who? Who has dared to insult you?”

Neridia’s hand covered his, stopping him from drawing the blade. “It’s just a hypothetical question. If someone insulted me, you’d challenge them to a duel, right?”

“Of course,” John said, rather confused. “How could you doubt it? Has someone been insulting my honor, by implying otherwise?”

Neridia’s mouth twisted a little. “No. Quite the reverse. Someone told me that you’d be my champion even if you knew that you couldn’t win. Even if it was absolutely certain that your opponent was a better swordsman than you.”

“Yes,” he said, taking her hands. “I swear on my honor, I will always fight for you.”

She met his eyes at last. “What if I asked you not to?”

“You may command anything of me.” He held her gaze steadily. “Except to ask me to leave you in pain. If someone caused you distress, I would challenge them. No matter who they were, or what the odds. In this one thing, my Empress, you cannot command me.”

Her shoulders dropped in a long sigh. “That’s what I thought.”

“I assure you, I will do everything in my power to ensure that an unfortunate situation does not occur.” Her hands were cold. He wrapped his fingers around hers, trying to warm them. “I am your weapon, my mate. I take that duty seriously. It is my responsibility to ensure that I am fit to meet any threat. Now, will you tell me why you are suddenly so troubled by the thought of duels?”

Neridia shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Just something that came up today when I was talking to someone. I wanted to make sure I understood your customs correctly.”

He ran his hands lightly up her bare forearms. “I know how overwhelming it is to be immersed in a strange new place. But remember that you are not alone. I am here, at your side, always.”

He thought he saw tears start to well in her eyes—but before he could be sure, she’d leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his. There was something desperate about her kiss, as if she wasn’t really certain he was truly there.

He returned her frantic caress more gently, his mouth steady under hers. He claimed her lips, her tongue, making her slow down. Cupping her face, he turned the kiss more lingering, his lips moving against hers in silent promise.

I am here, my mate. I will always be here.

He gathered her close in his arms, so that she would be able to feel his solid strength encircling her. With long, gentle caresses, he soothed the tension in her spine and shoulders. Wordlessly, he showed her that she could lean on him. She could rely on him.

With a sigh, she relaxed against his chest at last. Her own hand explored the edges of his shoulder pauldrons, where leather straps held the gleaming armor tight against his body.

“I’ve still never seen you naked,” she murmured against his mouth. “Not properly.”

He nipped lightly at her lower lip. “Shall I take that as an Imperial command?”

She smiled, but his attempted playfulness sparked no answering merriment in her eyes. She still looked so solemn, as if they were performing some momentous ritual.

I suppose it is, for that matter. Her first night in Atlantis.

John fervently vowed to make it a memorable one.

With one last kiss, he drew back from her. More slowly than was strictly necessary, he worked free the buckles securing his pauldrons. To his satisfaction, Neridia’s eyes went wide and dark as he shrugged off the heavy plates.

Equally unhurriedly, he unfastened his vambraces, sliding them down off his forearms. He stripped away the wrappings beneath, unwinding the soft leather strips with languid, teasing movements.

Then he hesitated.

“Don’t stop there.” Neridia’s voice trembled with desire.

“I will not, I promise.” Candor compelled him to admit, “I was merely trying to work out a dignified way of removing my boots.”

That won him a true smile at last, though it was brief and fleeting. “At this point, I’ll take speed over spectacle. Take them off, John.”

He obeyed, though as he had feared it was not entirely a graceful process. Still, Neridia did not seem to mind. He could sense her heat rising through the mate bond.

He was already so painfully erect, it was a relief to finally unfasten his trousers. Neridia’s soft gasp as he revealed himself was so delicious, it was all he could do to keep his movements unhurried. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to rush.

“Now,” he said huskily, when he stood before her naked at last. “It is your turn.”

Her beautiful full lips were moist and parted, and he knew that the hidden folds were equally flushed. Nonetheless, she shook her head.

“Not yet.” She rose from her chair, stepping close. “Let me look at you first. Just once, I want to look at you.”

Distantly, it crossed his mind that this was a rather strange thing for her to say—but then she ran her hand across his chest, and all thought was consumed in the fire of her touch. It took all of his discipline not to push her up against the gleaming wall then and there.

Control, control! He knotted his fists, forcing himself to hold still as she circled him. Her fingertips ran down his side, over his hip, up the broad curve of his back. She explored him with an exquisitely agonizing slowness, as if seeking to memorize every inch of his body.

He caught her wrist as she ventured lower. “Even a Knight’s discipline is not that good, my mate. If you do not wish this to speed up somewhat…”

In answer, she kissed him, her hand closing around his hard length. He groaned into her mouth as she stroked him. There was no longer any possibility of restraint.

Never breaking the kiss, he unfastened the ties of her robe, jerking the fabric down off her body impatiently. At last, at last her exquisite curves were fully exposed to him. He buried himself in them, pressing his whole body against her, wanting to possess and claim every glorious inch.

Neridia’s hand stilled. She pulled back from his mouth, far enough that she could look into his eyes. Her own were dark with desire, yet still they held that strange solemnity.

“I want this to be special for you,” she said, as if it could ever be anything else. “I want—I want this to be a night that you remember, always. Is there anything I could do? Something you’d particularly like?”

You, was his immediate thought…but the gravity of her manner made him pause. Pulling back a little himself, he forced himself to give the matter more serious consideration.

Not that he had to think for more than a second.

“There is something. And since the means are at hand…” He gestured at the vanity unit, and the glittering treasures arrayed there. “I would very much like to adorn you. I would like to see you properly crowned.”

Something flashed across her eyes, too fast for him to interpret. His sense of her down the mate bond weakened, as if she’d retreated into a shell.

“Not that,” she said. She glanced at the waiting crown, and a shiver shook her. “I’m sorry. Anything else, but not that.”

On second thought, he supposed it wouldn’t be entirely proper to use the Crown Jewels in such a fashion. A pity. Perhaps another evening they could pay a private visit to the Imperial hoard…

“Then I will make a different request.” Gently, he drew her over to the vast bed, laying her down on the silken sheets. “I want to take my time.”

And he did.

With his mouth, his hands, his body, he treasured her. He could spend a lifetime exploring her depths, and never grow tired of her wonders.

When she was undone by pleasure, crying out his name in need, he could hold himself back no longer. She welcomed him in like the sea itself, closing around him as strong and sweet as the tides.

At last he was truly home…and so, he thought, was she.

But in the morning she was gone.