Aydra sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, fine.”
“I know, sister. It’s one less instantaneous spill of blood your sword will meet,” he mocked, “but you might find diplomacy can be an option.”
“Killjoy,” she bantered.
Dorian almost laughed at her. “Perhaps you should take Nyssa with you next time they come,” he added.
A frown slipped onto her face. “Why?”
“Because she might be a twat half the time, but her negotiating skills have come to rival Rhaif’s,” he answered. “And she could use some time away from this place. See the land. Meet the people. Just remember to bring a bottle of nyghtifyr.”
“Why’s that?”
“She gets a bit shy in front of crowds.”
Aydra almost laughed, but the serious face Dorian had strewn across his own made her pause. “Oh, you’re not joking.”
“I’m not.” He traded out his full cup for her empty one then and stood, holding out his arm. “Come on. Don’t give them the satisfaction of your being bothered by their idiocy.”
Aydra made her rounds with full glasses of wine, putting on the facade her crown so demanded she wear in front of the Council she knew would take it from her if given the chance. No one spoke of the ships. No one spoke of politics. The only thing they seemed to want to speak to her about was she and Rhaif’s birthing moons coming up in the next month, wanting to know if they’d decided on a party theme or decor. She had to lie and tell them all she was looking forward to it, that they’d planned a grand celebration for it.
Her reprieve came in the smell of herb once she escaped their clenches.
“There you are,” she said in relief when she found him by the open window of the hall.
Lust rose in his eyes as he puffed on the pipe and looked her deliberately sideways. She felt her jaw tighten upon reaching him, and he held out the pipe to her.
“Careful, Venari,” she uttered as she took the pipe from his hands. “Your gaze deceives you.”
“Funny,” he mused, turning back to the window. “I’m sure I saw you climax at least twice simply sitting at that table.”
“Mm… Only the once actually,” she said, feeling the swim of the herb and wine through her veins. “You’re losing your touch.”
“I doubt you’ll be saying the same later.”
The jagged breath left her lips, and she swallowed hard at the look he was giving her. Her arms hugged her chest. “Promise?” she managed in a quiet voice.
A huff of amusement left his lips before he took another inhale, and he shifted his weight against the window. “Seems your brother is still in denial about the ships.”
“It would seem he believes us to have killed ghosts of our own men.”
“Pretty sure Belwarks’ heads would just turn to ashes upon their beheading. Duarb would have claimed the bones of any of my men. Their ears would have been pointed had they been Dreamers. And the Honest… well their necks would have had gills.”
“Don’t you think I’ve said all of these things to him?”
“Have you?”
She gave him a sideways glare and wrapped her arm over her chest, swirling the wine in her cup. “You’re just trying to get a rise out of me,” she muttered.
“I’m not,” he replied simply. “Simply wondering what you’ve been doing here for a month when your brother acts as though—”
“You know he will not listen to me.”
“Then make him.”
“How exactly do you propose I do that? Ash told him the strangers were barely swordsmen. I showed Rhaif my own battle scars. Had Lex recount and affirm my story—”
“You could summon Nadir,” he interjected.
She balked at him. “Summon Nadir? As if he would ever step into this kingdom without use of force.”
Draven shrugged. “He might. Offer him something he can’t refuse.”
“Like what? His life?”
He chucked under his breath. “I said summon. Not threaten.”
“He’s your friend. You summon him.”
“I cannot summon anyone to a kingdom that isn’t mine.”
She paused and stared at him a moment. “Could you bring him to the meeting with the Nitesh if I asked it of him?”
His brows raised. “You mean escort the favored son of Lovi Piathos and commander of the Honest Army across the Preymoor and Bitratus Hills all the way to Magnice to ambush a meeting with the most powerful woman in all of the land?”
She raised an expectant brow at him and tilted her head.
He contemplated it a moment.
“Yeah, all right,” he gave in with a shrug.
She almost laughed at his nonchalantness.
His weight shifted, and he straightened to stand over her. “You wanted danger in your life, my Queen… allow me to oblige.”
“Knew there was another reason I kept you around,” she grinned.
A huff of amusement left him, and he took one step closer to her, allowing his hair to fall over his face when he paused at her side. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you later?”
The chill ran deliberately down her spine with his breath tickling her ear. She turned around as he leaned his shoulder against the wall on the other side of her, and she took the pipe from his hand again.
The shyness she’d felt upon first seeing him had long faded with the swim of the herb and wine pulsing through her body, and she felt back to her regular self at his banter.
“Do tell, Hunter,” she said wickedly.
His gaze deliberately danced over her as she exhaled the smoke from her lips. “Your Second will have to carry you to breakfast once I’m done.”
“I’d rather have breakfast in bed.”
Draven’s brows raised, and he allowed a smirk to rise on his lips. “Have you ever begged, my Queen?”
“Never.”
The corner of his lips rose higher. “Not even for your end?”
“The last time I needed such words, I threatened to hang the woman from her thumbs in the tower, and then I finished myself.”
“You’ll be too tied up to finish yourself tonight.”
She raised a
