“Thank you,” I manage to say, though I cannot recall her. At all.
I hate these moments.
She snaps her fingers to the servants. “Bring wine and set the feast. We have to celebrate the first appearance of the mighty Prince of Evernight to humble Ravenal.” She graces Thiago with another smile that promises wicked delights. “If you would follow me.”
I exchange a glance with Thiago as we follow them inside the Great Hall.
We’d hoped for allies here, but it’s clear tension exists.
Ravenal’s always been the poorest of the kingdoms, though some say Lucidia had more of a hand in that than any other. There’s gold enough in the treasury, and from the decadence of the jewels that glitter on Lucere’s and Corvin’s fingers, they’ve managed to unlock the mighty vault.
But the castle stands in stark repair, and though the great hall has been swept, with bunches of feathers and flowers strewn in every corner, a close look reveals the threadbare quality of the tapestries on the wall.
“Let us talk,” Thiago says as they offer us wine.
Corvin raises a goblet of wine to his lips with a vapid smile. “Later. Tonight is a night for dancing.”
“Your Highness.” Lucere sets her wineglass on the stand and shoots Thiago a coy look as she holds out her hand. “I would be most honored if you would assist me in opening the celebrations.”
Bitch.
The muscle beneath my hand tenses as if Thiago agrees with me.
And while the insult is clear, I’ve been playing these games for far too long.
“Go and dance with her,” I say, shooting him a light smile. “I plan on stealing you all for myself for the rest of the night, so it will do the court good to see two monarchs playing nicely.”
There’s a light in his eyes that tells me he understands perfectly. “As you wish.”
And then he stands and slips through the crowd toward her with a dangerous grace, and I enjoy the view for several seconds before I realize I’m not the only one doing so.
Princess Lucere watches him with hungry eyes, her hand outstretched toward him.
I turn to Eris with a bright smile. “More wine? Please, more wine?”
She leans over my shoulder and fills my glass. “I can make sure nobody ever finds the body.”
When we first met, I was certain Eris hated me, but I’ve started to understand who she is. And I earned her loyalty. If I say the word, Eris will head out into the forest with a shovel.
“Not yet.” My cheeks ache from smiling. “We’re running out of allies.”
Eris snorts as she watches Thiago take Lucere in his arms. “We can find more.”
We’re not the only ones here to celebrate.
Prince Kyrian of the Kingdom of Stormlight is Thiago’s closest ally, though the last time we met, he thought I’d betrayed my husband. He was the only ruler to walk away from the Queensmoot unscathed, considering he refused to watch my mother attempt to execute Thiago.
I’m a little nervous as the prince saunters down the stairs into the throne room, surrounded by several female warriors dressed in red. A leather thong binds half his hair back off his face, though his green eyes lock on me with an intensity that threatens to set my undergarments on fire.
Or no, not on me.
Behind me.
I suddenly feel like I’m standing between a cat and its prey. A glance over my shoulder reveals Thalia, glaring back at him mutinously.
“Thiago,” Kyrian calls, greeting him with clasped hands. “You survived.”
“You doubted.” There’s a hint of reproof in my husband’s voice, though he returns the swift embrace.
Kyrian turns that dangerous stare upon me. “It’s not so much your wife I doubted, so much as the nature of true love.”
I snort. “Perhaps if you’d stayed to watch, you might have learned a thing or two about love.”
A slight narrowing of his eyes reveals that this is a point to me.
“You should have stayed,” Thiago muses, “if only to see the look on Adaia’s face when Vi defied her.”
“What’s that noise?” I ask.
We all fall silent.
The ticking continues and Kyrian looks down in surprise, before tugging a golden compass from his pocket. When he flips the lid open, the arrow is flickering between east and west, quivering as if some magnetic force draws it.
It finally comes to a halt.
And it’s pointing directly at Thalia.
Kyrian slowly looks up, his other hand falling to the hilt of his sword. “You’re one of the saltkissed?”
“So lovely to see you again, Prince Kyrian,” Thalia says, with a faint curve to her lips. “I can still hear the sweet ringing compliments you threw my way the last time we dined. And yes, my father was of the sea.”
“I knew there was a reason I disliked you.”
“What’s wrong?” Thalia demands, setting her hands on her hips. “Are you worried I’m going to ensorcel your heart? I’ve heard it’s too late for that. You gave it away, didn’t you? And you no longer have one.”
Kyrian takes a step toward her, his nostrils flaring, but Thiago stops him with one firm hand in the center of his chest.
“That’s my cousin,” he reminds the prince.
Kyrian looks like he doesn’t give a damn. He looks like he wants to shove Thiago out of his way and then physically cast Thalia out of the window. Their eyes meet, and I can see both of them battling their monumental pride.
It’s Kyrian who gives way first, his lips thinning as he turns to the ballroom. “I think I need a drink.”
“That’s right,” Thalia declares, with a vicious smile. “Run. The way you did last time.”
Kyrian stiffens, clearly thinks about answering, and then keeps walking.
“You said you argued,” Thiago growls at his cousin. “This doesn’t look like a mere argument to me.”
Thalia’s smile slips, and then she shrugs her shoulder. “You don’t need to know everything. Suffice it to say, Prince Kyrian and I have been at odds from the moment we met.” She straightens the lapel
