“Lady Hevva, are you all right?”
This was asolitarystruggle, and she did not appreciate the interruption. Turning with bleary eyes, Hevva found King Hethtar standing a few feet away. Her lips pursed at the unwanted intrusion, especially from him. Though anyone’s presence would have been embarrassing in the moment.
“I believe so, why do you ask?” She swiped her mouth with the back ofher hand.
A look of concern flickered across the king’s face. “Well, my lady, I believe you may have taken ill.”
Hevva glanced down at her arms to find the angry hives expanded their territory. She clasped her hands over them. “How astute you are.” Her mouth felt tight. Swollen. She turned back toward the crate she’d wretched behind with every intention of retrieving the mystery drink she’d brought outside. The glass, now empty, lay upturned in the dirt beside her vomit.Damn.
“Would you like some water?” He produced a glass from thin air and filled it from a flask at his hip before handing it over.
Hevva’s irritation flared as she faced him. “I appreciate the concern, Your Majesty, but I assure you, I can handle this myself.” Still, she accepted the glass and drank. Then she handed it back, empty, to the king. It vanished with a smallpop.
A glance at the ground showed no shards of glass.Odd. Anaughtbirin, of course.She’d heard he had the rare and mysterious magic, but never witnessed it firsthand.
Arm still itching, Hevva scratched herself. The tightness in her throat seemed to be fading. She could only hope she’d expelled all the offending shellfish and saved herself from a long night in the washroom.
The king’s expression softened with genuine concern. “Allow me to help. I’ve dealt with emergencies before. Military training and all.” He shrugged one enormous, muscled shoulder.
Her eyes narrowed, both from the lingering discomfort that made her want to scratch off every inch of her skin, and reluctance to accept assistance, especially from someone of noble blood.Find a nice common boy.“I don’t need your help. I prefer handling my own affairs.”
“Stubbornness doesn’t negate the need for aid. Let me assist you.”
Hevva’s retort was cut short by the arrival of Prince Nekash.
“Brother,” the younger Hethtar called out across the yard. A woman on his arm giggled. “Come. Miss Larynthia has a sister we’d like you to meet.”
The king’s attention shifted, providing Lady Hevva the perfectopportunity to slip away. She retreated into the shadows along the side of the inn, aiming for the front door. The prince and his simpering companion were blocking the back entrance. Hevva picked up the pace in an effort to escape prying eyes and potentialadditionalembarrassment.
The king called after her, “Lady Hevva, if you need anything—”
“I’m fine,” she snapped over her shoulder before disappearing into the lively chaos on the street in front of the inn. Her hurried steps carried her through the door and upstairs, leaving behind the king and his persistent concern.
As she reached the sanctuary of her room and her snoring brother, Hevva couldn’t shake the bizarre mix of physical and metaphorical issues roiling her belly.
Wallowing in a cool bath with a small glass of whiskey in her hand, Hevva intended the former to wash away the lingering itchiness that plagued her skin, and the latter to burn any remnants of crab from her throat. She’d had plenty to drink that night, but most of it was out in the yard, so a bit more wasfine. As the heat of the liquor settled in the base of her stomach, she couldn’t help but contemplate the perplexing king who had crossed her path in the silliest of circumstances.
First, the offensive way he’d greeted her and her brother, and now...this.That. Whatever it was, she had no time for it. Though, she wasn’t too proud to admit, privately at least, that he was decent looking, and surprisingly kind.
“Hmph.” She dunked beneath the tepid water, her hair floating out around her like beams of moonlight filtering down through the atmosphere.
She’d been there before, with men likethatwho beguiled you with their flirtatious behavior and doting demeanors. Thenbam,they’ve drained your bank account. Or, in her case, they’ve started an illicit relationship with their first cousin, and you find them getting hot and heavy in a closet at a house party. Disgusting upper crust men and their philandering ways—except her father, of course. Though, hehadfallen victim to the bank account issue himself, before falling in love with their mother and forgiving her follies.
Tomorrow, she’d look for a nice common boy to occupy her time. It was the safest choice.
five
Ehmet throws his boot.
The late-night air helda balminess Ehmet could almost taste as he stood out on his bedroom balcony listening to distant filtered music punctuated by the occasional shout and piercing shriek of laughter. The party in Rohilavol at the base of the hill, between his home and the River Burshin, would continue all night. For several nights, in fact.
He loved this time of year in the town turned city. Typically a town,technicallya town, his city picked up the loftier title during the symposium when thousands poured in from the kingdom at large. Summer in Rohilavol was the only time it was acceptable to call it a city, and so, he did. He’d always considered himself lucky to be their duke, duty bound to the historic city with its ancient Institute, its annual Symposium of Prodigious Minds, and the half-ancient estate of Hewran Hall. Now, it seemed he’d become king of itall.
Of course, Ehmet knew the day would come knocking. While there was no love lost between him and his late father, or even between the people of Selwas and their former king, he’d hoped to have a bit more time before the weight of the world settled onto his shoulders.
With a sigh, he sipped a glass of whiskey.Perks of being king,Ehmet mused as he eyed the ultra-fine drink, a gift from the King of Domos himself. The advantages of ruling a great nation were present, though slim, at least the ones he deemed of import. Most of his time was spentin the dull cycle of duty, things he must do because he was in charge. But the occasional affair, like the symposium, offered respite from his drier responsibilities, a chance to reconnect with his people, and occasionally stumble across a sliver of amusement.
He was surprised Nekash hadn’t stuck around for the duration of the three-day compendium. The prince loved a good party. But, after having presented their united front at the opening address, his brother deemed his duty done. Then the man gathered a small retinue and set off south to grace some lascivious house party with his princely presence. They’d meet back up at the palace in Serkath, eventually.
