“That’s why I saidoneof the best.” Anna winked. “I was trying to be polite.”
Laughter spread around the jagged circle, loosening us up even more than the drink.
“Well, I can’t wait to wear my gown. Whenever you get around to making it,” Marit said when the laughter ran out.
She left off that I’d have to survive the war, which I appreciated. Tonight was for fun, not for considering what doom may come.
Movement came from where the males sat, and I caught Qildor rising, casting a glance our way. The recipient of his gaze, Marit, didn’t fail to see him.
Marit cleared her throat. “But for now, I must retire.”
My lips parted, and my gaze darted around the circle, caught the mirth in Saga and the Balik sister’s faces. Even Clem and Anna appeared to be holding in their laughter, but it was Bavirra’s expression, one that clearly stated Marit wasn’t hiding anything from anyone—not even the dwarf who barely knew her—that made my laughter bubble over.
“Retire?” I asked coyly. “But Marit, it’s only the ninth bell!”
“We were going to drink all night!” Saga pressed, her face full of relish.
“I’m not feeling up for it anymore,” Marit replied.
Another round of laughter brought a scowl to her lips, and I was sure that she had to force herself not to look at him as Qildor passed by and bid us good night.
When her knight slipped from the room, Bavirra pointed to the door. “He’s quite handsome, isn’t he?”
“It’s the black hair and the violet eyes,” Clem added. “What a remarkable combination.”
“Oh, all of you are so horrible!” Marit grinned even as she spoke. “Fine, I want a bit of alone time with him. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Not that we needed to,” Eireann said, “but itisquite satisfying.”
“I’m begging you, though, when we ask you about you two tomorrow, please have some more salacious gossip. A good, long kiss, at the very least!” Baenna tossed up her hands.
Marit sighed. “If a kiss happens, I’ll shout it from the towers. But I must go, before he comes to the conclusion that I’m not coming at all.” With that, she rushed out of the room.
“They haven’t kissed?” Bavirra turned back to the circle.
Saga let out a long breath. “My father forced Marit to wed Jarl Triam, an absolute mound of gryphon dung, mind you, and unfortunately, they’re still married.”
“Not just an arsehole, but a murderer!” Clemencia added.
“That too.” Saga nodded vigorously. “Qildor is very much the honorable sort. It probably nearly killed him to abandon the Clawsguard for Marit, and I’m not sure he’ll make a move until her marriage officially ends.”
“I hope that’s by Jarl Triam’s death.” Eireann’s eyes glinted with suppressed malice. “Marit got the worst of the CourtingFestival. Even in that short time she was under his control, he hurt her badly.”
I wondered what the Balik sisters made of their forced matches. Their father had seen both pairings as a slight, but neither Baenna nor Eireann had uttered a word about them.
“Isolde and I will terminate that marriage.” Thyra looked to me. “And any other unwanted union set by Magnus too.”
“Of course,” I added, tossing my sister a smile.
The conversation strayed from Marit and her noble knight to other matters, all of them far from the war to come. A welcome respite. My sister was more animated than I’d ever seen her and had bonded well with Princess Bavirra. I was having a wonderful time, and it seemed the males were too, when the topic of mine and Thyra’s namedays came up.
“Vale told me your namedays fell on the Winter Solstice,” Saga said two bells later. “And I hope you two don’t mind, but we are planning to throw a little dinner party.” She gestured to Anna, Clem, and the Balik sisters.
“Planning?” I asked. “Since when?”
“Four days ago,” Clem supplied. Her cheeks had turned rosy from the spirits. “It’s important to celebrate milestones. This one especially. Until recently, no one knew you two were alive. Now there will be a splendid meal to celebrate with you!”
I looked at my twin, who appeared shocked at the turn of conversation, but upon catching my eyes, she smiled.
