“These are my favorite,” she says abruptly, reaching over to grab a small yellow cake cut into a square. “They are called honey cakes, and they remind me of the ones that my grandmother used to make. Though hers are much better than Emelia’s.”
I smile as I think of Alexi and his story of sneaking me treats from the grumpy baker. Despite everything—the circumstances I find myself in and the way my body aches with things seen and unseen—I do feel a small bit of joy at the memory of the only father I ever knew.
Eve takes a bite of her cake, shutting her eyes as she slowly chews. “So good,” she murmurs, her hand covering her mouth as she gestures with her chin to the platter. “Try one!”
My stomach picks that exact moment to grumble, reminding me that I didn’t eat much at breakfast and hadn’t chosen anything else to eat when I sat down for tea. With careful fingers,I pick the cake up and bring it to my mouth, biting off a corner as the flavors of honey and vanilla burst on my tongue. How novel it is to recognize those flavors now, after having similar enough treats in the Mage Kingdom. “It is delicious,” I say as I chew, already raising the small square back towards my mouth.
“Before I came to work for the king, I used to help our neighbors with their bee farm. Did you know there are hundreds of different types of honey? Their flavors are nuanced, only slight differences based on the floral pollen collected by the bees.” She opens her eyes again, her smile wider than before. “There is nothing like harvesting your own honey.”
“Do you get to see your family often?” I ask before taking another bite. She briefly looks surprised, as if she hadn’t expected me to engage in the conversation, and the thought makes the cake in my stomach sour. Keeping my distance is the smart choice, but loneliness combined with exhaustion makes for a powerful motivator. I know what it is to be forced to only listen to my own voice for days at a time. Even with the risks, it is nice to hear someone else’s for a change.
“I used to,” she says, pausing before adding, “but it has been a few months since I’ve been home to see my sister. I’m from Fairven, a smaller town just on the outskirts of Vitour.”
“Are you not allowed leave to visit her?”
Her focus drops to her hands, where she draws her thumb across her palm. But before she can answer my question, footsteps in the hall widen her eyes. She quickly wipes her hands on her apron before clasping them in front of her. Her urgency sparks my own, and my heart pounds in my chest as I watch her attempt to school her face into neutrality. But her posture softens when the owner of the footsteps rounds the corner, his dark eyes immediately landing on me.
“Commander,” Eve says, her relieved tone not one I’m sure I share yet, “what can we do for you?”
“Hello, Eve. I’m here to escort Lady Rhea back to her room.”
“Eve can take me back,” I say quickly, my eyes bouncing between them.
“I wasn’t asking.”
I study the lines of his face, wondering if the familiarity I see is from all the times he watched as the king beat me in the tower or something else. Just like the last time I saw him, he isn’t wearing his full guard uniform, instead dressed in the same armor that covers his torso that Nox wore when undercover. Longing hits me, swift and fierce, drawing tears to the corners of my eyes before I blink them away.
“Manners, Xander. We talked about this,” Eve says, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’ll make no friends with an attitude like that.”
“Good thing I have enough friends, then.”
The look he sends her is somehow a cross between fondness and annoyance.Interesting. I don’t know Eve, certainly not enough to judge her character in any way, but I do find it odd that she is sofriendlywithhim.Though maybe this is part of life for those who work for the king. Those who spend day in and out in proximity with each other likely form friendships of all different natures. Perhaps Xander and Eve are no different. Or, maybe, the fondness I had seen in his eyes goes deeper than that—to something…physicalin nature.
Eve turns towards me, her hip popping out to the side. “You don’t have to go with him if you don’t want to.”
Xander grumbles under his breath, tipping his head up to the ceiling. “No, you do not. But I would appreciate it if you did. I’d like to talk with you, and with the king currently preoccupied by his meeting with the siren queen through the Mirror, we have time.” He looks directly at me. “Please.”
I sigh but pinch my lips and relent with a nod.
“Great! I will clean up here and see you tomorrow morning,” Eve says to me. She pats Xander’s arm and then turns to face the table. Xander pivots, making enough space for me to walk past him and out into the hall.
“We can walk and talk,” he says. I keep a few feet between us, Xander doing his best to match my pace despite how long his legs are. His hand on his sword flexes occasionally as we walk, something I’ve noticed him do before. I had thought it might be a way to remind me that he has the ability to kill me, as if I need such a message, but now I think it is a nervous tick. He doesn’t seem conscious of the fact he is doing it.
“What is it you wanted to talk about?”
He keeps his gaze forward when he answers. “I meant what I said last week about helping you. Aboutwantingto help you.”
I keep my steps steady, even as my heart thunders in my chest. “Again, how do I know this isn’t a trick?”
There is a slight downturn of Xander’s lips, the only indication of his displeasure. Then again, that could just be his normal face. “I’m not trying to trick you. I have noneedto.”
“That’s not exactly reassuring. What need did Simon have? What need does the king have? Those men do it because they can. Because they have power and they want to wield it. Or they want more of it. Between the two of us, the power tilts in your favor—”
“Only because of that,” he interrupts, pointing to my hand that holds the ring.
“A very importantthat,” I counter, drawing my thumb over the pearl, its temperature cooler than the air around us.
“There is still your title.”
