Her maid nodded.
“Well, that, and I lost my shoes. I didn’t want to admit it yet, though. I don’t know why. Pride, maybe? Anyway, we were walking back up here, absolutely exhausted, when he snapped at me—that absolute sausage—”
Aylin snickered as she helped Hevva step into her gown.
“He said I was walking too slowly. And you know Ineverwalk too slowly. So, I had to tell him about my shoes, and he carried me the rest of the way up the hill.”
Aylin made a thoughtful noise as she began to tighten the laces on Lady Hevva’s bodice. “And that was all?”
“Yes, that’s all there was.” She sighed dreamily, though she would have avoided describing the sound as such if she could have gotten away with it. “A fun night with a common man.”Unfortunately, not a suitable prospect.
Hevva’s mind lingered on the king’s broad chest and the way his soaking wet stable boy’s tunic had strained against those well-defined muscles as he’d leaned down to scoop her up, since she had no shoes. She’d thought Berim was going to kiss Saka again, on that stretch of road shrouded by trees as they climbed toward Hewran Hall. But he hadn’t.
Now, Lady Hevva was due to ride with King Hethtar to the symposium’s closing gala, along with her younger brother, and the king’s former tutor, Hothan Tarisden—she finally learned his name—in one carriage. Mr. Tarisden was one of her little brother’s newest idols.
Never mind the gods, Kas primarily worshiped academically minded folks over the age of fifty. And the little lord made sure she knew it. They were both well aware that Hevva couldn’t deny her sibling’s repeated pleas peppered with compliments. And so it was that she found herself roped into the shared carriage when she may, possibly, have preferred to take her own.
The other “unexpected guests,” as the king had taken to calling them all, would be riding separately, but they planned to travel to the gala together in a train of carriages. It was all very...proper.
When Hevva descended the stairs, in her lavender and lace gown, she had eyes only for her adorable little brother. In fact, she didn’t even notice the way the king quite rudely abandoned his animated conversation with Mr. Gulan mid-sentence.
“Kas! You look fantastic.” She grinned as she eyed his ensemble. He looked like a little man with his tailored black jacket, trousers, and shiny shoes. An artfully arranged lavender cravat dripped from his neck where it lay over top of his starched white shirt. The single pop of color on his outfit matched her dress. It was too cute. “And you match me!”
He groused. “That was Aylin’s idea. Stop that. Don’t touch my hair or it’ll be rumpled before we get there.”
She laughed.When did he become so concerned with looks?
Kas prattled on about some specific attendees he was hoping to speak with at the event, and she obliged him, nodding dutifully and chiming in with well-timed “wonderfuls” and “fantastics.”
“Care to join us?” the king’s voice boomed out across the foyer, and her eyes snapped to where he stood, alone. All of the other guests had left through the open doors.
“Apologies, Your Majesty.” Kas answered for them as he sped across the room and ran outside.
“Countess?” King Hethtar extended an arm, offering escort but alsoprodding her along.
That’s when she realized she hadn’t moved an inch since he called for them.Is paralysis part of his power?She forced her feet to step forward, though her heart stuttered as she moved. The king cleaned up nicely, and he now wore a suit strikingly similar to her younger brother’s, although Hethtar’s was complemented by a snowy white cravat rather than pastel purple. He’d also shaved and looked...fresh.Regal.
She kind of missed the beard.
As planned, their carriages rumbled down from Hewran Hall to Rohilavol. They waited in queue for some time until finally drawing to a stop in front of the public hall. Kas alighted and rushed inside, like the child that he was, to select a choice table to sit at during supper. He’d made it clear to Hevva that, under no uncertain terms, was she to embarrass him or yank him away from any riveting conversations. The few days from home had honed the boy’s maturity...as if he needed it.
She rolled her eyes.
King Hethtar’s gigantic knees knocked against hers, again.
Mr. Tarisden climbed out next, pushing his tall body through the door frame. It was a wonder that both the king and his former magic tutor could even fit in the same carriage, the two men were up there in enormity. Combined with the heights of her and Kas? It had been a tangle of legs the whole way down the hill. She wasn’t looking forward to the return trip.
“Lady Hevva,” the king began, as he pushed out of his seat and struggled through the door. “Give me one— second— here.”
His giant palm popped back through the now empty doorway. She took it and alighted.
On her way to the ground, the king’s long fingers closed over her own and the pad of his thumb brushed so lightly across the back of her hand that she thought she may have imagined it. The static that sizzled through her confirmed its existence.
Find a nice common boy.
They dined together at a table with many others, including the Ladies of Napivol and Rohapavol, plus the lords of Turkhane and Kashuvol. The ladies were lovely, the two barons left much to be desired. The onlyreason she sat beside the king was because they’d entered together. Well, and because he’d asked. She couldn’t very well refuse him twice in as many days, she’d be blacklisted from every dull social event the kingdom had to offer for the rest of her life. That final thought had made refusing his invite the tiniest bit tempting.
After dinner, the ball began. King Hethtar moved to the front of the hall where he could greet subjects away from the fray. Lady Hevva floated around the perimeter, sipping champagne. She had a couple of brief conversations: one with Shilan Gulan that was quite enjoyable, and one with Baron Turkhane that she couldn’t get away from fast enough. Mostly, she enjoyed glass after glass of champagne and eavesdropped, all while trying not to look in the king’s direction too often. She didn't want to be weird. It was during her third casual conversation, which had turned into her first dance of the night, that she was interrupted.
