"I thought you'd say I look cold," she whispered back, her eyes fixed firmly on the High Priestess. Her voice was laced with a dry, sarcastic deflection, an attempt to armor herself against the heat of his gaze. "Fitting for an ice empire, isn't it?"
Soren felt a genuine smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He saw right through the sarcasm; he knew it was the only shield she had left.
"You could never look cold," he whispered, pausing as his eyes lingered on the pulse point in her neck. "Even in the heart of winter."
Eris's jaw clenched slightly. Damn him. She could feel her resolve melting, a tiny smile fighting to emerge despite her best efforts to remain stone-faced. "Focus on the ceremony, Soren," she hissed, though there was no real bite to it.
"I'm trying," he murmured, finally leaning back to give her space, though the smile remained on his face as he turned back to the crowd.
Serah finished her ritual and stepped back, gesturing toward Soren. "Your Majesty."
