Rhaif straightened, hugging one arm over his chest, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. His heavy gaze simply studied her, and for the first time in her life, she saw distrust in his features towards her.
“The great meeting is in three days… I need to know everything, Nyssari.Everything. Not just from the other races but from the Dreamers as well.” He started walking her way, and Nyssa stiffened on her spot.
“I need to know who I can trust,” he continued. “Can you do that for me?”
Nyssa nodded, though her stomach was in more knots than it had ever been. “Of course.”
“The meetingonly, Nyssari,” he added, and she wondered if it was a demand. “I do not wish for you to be consorting with them more than that. You are young, and your judgments could be clouded by their charms or promises. I know you have a fondness for the Venari Second, but you must know she cannot be trusted.”
“I have reason to believe otherwise,” she argued, getting frustrated that he was trying to tell her to practically sit in her room in seclusion the next two days.
“Has your sister put this in your head?” he asked.
Nyssa’s jaw tightened, chin lifting. “I thought you trusted me,” she said, and Rhaif’s stern brows relaxed a fraction.
He took one step back, and a smile flickered on his lips as he raised his glass to her. A gesture she hadn’t anticipated after talking back to him. He scoffed quietly, pride dancing in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“To your crown, little sister,” he said, and Nyssa felt her chest swell. “I look forward to the day you betray all of us for that power. I hope I am there to see men crawl at your feet,” he finished.
And Nyssa couldn’t stop herself from raising her cup to his, the vision of what he spoke making her hair stand on end, her fingertips tingle restlessly.
“Fairy tales, brother.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“YOU DON’T LIKE your sister speaking with Rhaif?” Bala asked as the pair settled on the floor of the grand balcony moments later.
Dorian solemnly packed the pipe as he debated how much to tell her. “My sister is too smart for her own good, and I just don’t like him using her for her abilities.”
“What needs does he have for her abilities?” she asked, and Dorian knew she thought he meant how she could speak with creatures.
He chuckled under his breath at the comment. “Today, when we were fighting, you saw how she stood to the side while we parried first.”
“I thought she simply wanted you to go first,” Bala shrugged.
Dorian pressed the pipe between his lips and then lit it with his finger. He drew a long inhale as he looked over to her, letting his eyes flutter, and then he handed the pipe to her with his exhale.
“She was calculating,” he told her, mouth full of smoke. “My sister watches people,” he answered. “Didn’t you wonder how she knew your moves today when she finally joined?”
“I thought she was simply learned,” Bala said.
“She’s brilliant,” he replied. “Far more brilliant than she gives herself credit for.”
Bala coughed slightly as she exhaled the smoke, and Dorian frowned as he wondered if it was because of his brand of herb or because of his comment.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Your herb is horrible,” she choked out.
“What?” Dorian balked. “What—you don’t like the taste?”
“No, it burns,” she complained, handing him back the pipe. “Where are you growing this? What kind is it?”
“The regular kind,” he argued, hurt that she was making such comments about it.“Don’t insult my grow.”
“I will certainly insult your grow,” she said with a forced exhale, face furrowing. “Fucking Infi, Prince. Remind me to ask Draven for his. Or Hagen when he gets here. The mountains have the best.”
But even as she said it, he watched her balance waver, and she grabbed his arm.
