He took two steps forward, his shoulder meeting hers as though he were going to walk past her. Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt her hair fall over her face as he leaned down.
“You’re mesmerizing, Aydra,” he whispered. “I’m not sure how you expect me to hear anything these people have to say with you sitting across from me like this today or any day hereafter.”
The growl of his words sent a shiver down her spine. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked up at him.
“The same, but about you,” she managed breathlessly.
His jaw tightened distractedly, and his eyes flickered down at her. “Aydra—”
“Is there something happening here that I should know about?”
The sound of her brother’s voice made Aydra jump. She felt heat rise on her chest as Draven turned fully towards him, his body tensing at Aydra’s side.
“Not at all, brother,” Aydra said with a tilt of her head. “Draven was just telling me of the Wyverdraki mating ritual,” she lied, regaining the confidence in her voice. She took a full step back and wrapped her hand around her brother’s arm. She felt her shy facade fade and the wall she so desperately clung to with the crown on her head veil over her face.
“Sounds barbaric,” Rhaif said with a glare at Draven.
“It’s actually quite beautiful,” she mused, smiling genuinely at Draven’s softened features. “Should you like to hear it?”
Rhaif’s gaze danced over Draven’s figure just noticeably before turning his attention to Aydra. “Take your seat, sister. We need to end this meeting on time for once.”
Her brother took her arm then and began leading her towards the table, but not before she gave Draven a smile over her shoulder. Her heart fluttered in her chest upon seeing the crooked smirk he returned.
Aydra hardly heard what the meeting was about.
Every time Aydra’s eyes met his, she had to shift in her seat. The stare he gave her across the table had her dripping with the fantasies of what he would do to her later. She could see the vein straining on his neck, the short breaths he would take when he shifted in his own seat.
The only thing she remembered was when her brother began to adjourn the meeting without bringing up the safety of their kingdom.
“Wait—” Aydra called as her brother tried to stop the meeting. “We have to talk about the ships.”
Draven’s brow raised, and he sat up in his chair as the rest of the room began to murmur together.
“Ships? What ships?” Councilwoman Reid asked.
“Are there ships on the shores of Magnice?” another member asked.
Aydra’s eyes darted between Ash and Draven, then landed back on Rhaif’s flared irises. “Well, no, but—”
“Ships arrived on the shores of the Honest Sea a few weeks ago,” Ash cut in then. “The Venari King and his Honest friends handled the incursion. I was there with the Queen myself and witnessed the strangers be taken down.”
“There is no need to concern yourselves, Council, Nobles,” Rhaif cut in. “The Queen has a slight obsession with these ships,” Rhaif said with a laugh. “You’ll excuse her paranoia. The Venari and his men have the situation under control, do you not?” he asked Draven pointedly.
Draven’s jaw tightened as he looked around the men and women at the table. He finally took a deep inhale and met Aydra’s gaze. “The ships have arrived twice on our shores. My men and the Honest have battled them both times. I will not pretend to know when or if they will be back.”
“Who are they? What do they want?” one of the Ambassadors asked.
Aydra swallowed hard and chanced a glance at Draven. “We’re not sure.”
Murmurs broke out around the table.
“You’re not sure what they want? You’ve simply met them on the beach and killed them instead of asking what they wanted?”
“The man said ‘Long live King Aeron of Mathis, ruler of Man’,” Aydra cut in.
Voices paused around the room, and they all stared at her.
“What does that even mean? Who is King Aeron?” asked one of the councilmen.
“I don’t know,” Aydra said. “That’s the point. These people are not to be trusted. They obviously want our lands.”
“The Venari should bring some of them in for torture and questioning if there is a next time. Find out information rather than simply killing them as you’ve done so recklessly these last times. Perhaps these men could be useful,” said Reid.
“Of what use could people not of our own be? They are clearly not Haerlandian and come from somewhere high across the seas. We don’t know from where they were born, what they did to their land there, or why they would be traveling so far away from their homes,” argued Aydra. “You cannot take this lightly. We must—”
“I’m not sure I understand why we are having this discussion,” Ash interjected. “The strangers are not on the shores of Magnice.”
“The captain is right,” said one of the Nobles before he turned to face Draven. “Do you have this situation handled or are you and your men as worthless as the Chronicles say you are?”
Draven’s fist curled in on itself, and his jaw tightened. He glared at the standing people around him.
“We have it handled,” he growled. “For now.”
Rhaif clapped his hands over the table and said something, but Aydra didn’t hear it. Her nostrils flared at the ignorance of the people around the table as they stood and began chatting with each other absentmindedly. She fought the urge to slam her fist in to the table.
A glass of wine was sat down in front of her then, and she turned just in time to see Dorian sit in the chair beside her.
“They’ll figure it out when they’ve an army taking over their towns,” he said to her.
Aydra lifted the cup to her lips and drank it in one swift gulp. “Idiots,” she mumbled. “You would think an invasion would alarm them.”
“They don’t care
