My little brother is more of a lightweight than I am.
He leans in closer to Thaddeus and I. Sour wine invades the space as Roman grips Thaddeus’ arm. “Now that we have your allegiance, you’ll be amazed to see all we can do with her magick?—”
“What am I interrupting, Your Majesty?”
Time stops. My pulse thunders in my chest and the music around me becomes muddled and unclear. The rage that quickly blinded me earlier is displaced with confusion. A man steps forward, his mask an identical match to King Roman’s. But his hair. Icy and perfectly polished. His eyes. Sharp and blue.
My fists clench, and my heart rate spikes.
“Hope you haven’t had too much fun without me,” the man says. “Lord Thaddeus, correct?”
Thaddeus dips his head as the man slips his fingers into Roman’s. I track the movement, my stomach swirling.
Maybe it isn’t him. Maybe I’m wrong.
“And you are?” the man asks, his eyes even more vibrant under his dark mask. My voice lodges in my throat. Thaddeus bumps my arm with his elbow but still, I can’t move. Can’t speak.
“Forgive my nephew,” Thaddeus says through a chuckle. “It’s been a trying year. Kind sir, this is Evren Fletcher, heir to the Jade Guild.”
The man turns to me, his mouth forming a smile, but his eyes narrow as they meet mine again.
“Pleasure,” he says, a bit forcefully. I manage to dip my chin in a quick bow, but still, my words are lost.
“Now pardon us, Lady Mordona of the Bloodstone Guild has just arrived,” the man says. “We have much to discuss before the night ends. Cheers, gentlemen.” The man backs away, leading a tipsy Roman through the crowded ballroom, his hand pressed to the small of his back.
Before they make it three steps, Roman bends down and kisses the man deeply. The kind of kiss that suggests it isn’t thefirst. No, it’s the kind of kiss of lovers who have kissed many, many times.
My stomach churns, knees weakening as I watch the two of them mingle and chat and look perfectly comfortable with each other.
It wasn’t Galen.
But even as I lie to myself, a warning sounds inside of my head and now nothing before me appears to be real.
The dancers blur, the music fades.
It can’t be real.
“Get it together,” Thaddeus says, pulling me out of my stupor.
I follow him to a table piled high with desserts. My head spins again, knees threatening to buckle beneath me. So, I focus on what’s directly in front of me. On the ridiculous amount of food Roman’s flaunted for this Mother-forsaken party. Tiny square pastries overflowing with custard and fruit. Pumpkin tarts topped with cinnamon and nutmeg. An enormous tiered platter stuffed to the brim with almond cakes dusted with powdery white sugar.
“You’ll get us thrown to the gallows before we can even meet with the Guild members if you keep acting a fool!”
Snapping my attention to Thaddeus, I still can’t find it in me to address what it is I just saw.
Who it is that betrayed me.
Betrayed her.
I must be mistaken. There’s isn’t any way?—
“Have you fallen ill,nephew?” Thaddeus grabs my arm.
Shaking my head, my eyes scan the room. “I need to relieve myself,” I grumble, honing in on a blonde haired man in an elegant black cape attached much too closely to our lush king.
Rage boasts my chest as I abandon my place near the dessert table, but before I make it two steps, Thaddeus grips my arm again.
“Careful,” he whispers. “Rememberwhyyou are here.” Turning, I meet his eyes. He glances toward the foyer just to the right of the ballroom. To where I am to meet with the other Guild members shortly. As his grip lessens, I clasp his shoulder.
