“Sorry about that,” she muttered, blinking quickly in a manner that almost made Draven laugh. “It would appear the Princess consorting with her enemies is a bad look. I’ll be thrown from the tower by midnight or stoned in the streets,” she said sarcastically before locking eyes with Draven. “Perhaps we should put a cloak over your head. No one couldpossiblynotice someone nearly seven feet tall walking with me to market then.No, that wouldn’t be out of the ordinary or look suspiciousat all.”
A laugh erupted from his chest at the annoyed sarcasm dripping from her lips, and he quirked a brow at her figure, arms crossing.
“There she is,” Bala muttered, chuckling under her breath.
“Careful, Princess,” Draven teased. “Your Eaglefyre is showing.”
“Eaglefyre that is going to be rightly sought after tomorrow if she speaks like that in front of Storn,” Bala added. She looked up to Draven. “How exactly are you planning on keeping him from her?”
“I think the threat of keeping his life is enough,” Draven replied.
“You all keep talking about him, and he’s going to have quite the reputation to live up to,” Nyssa chimed in.
Bala exchanged a wide grin with Draven, who couldn’t help but laugh heartily. “Don’t worry,” Draven grunted, only imagining how his friend was going to react if Nyssa spoke to him with such snap. “He will.”
A coy smile lifted Nyssa’s lips, a slight blush on her cheeks. “Sounds like the beginnings of a truly forbidden fairytale, Venari. Are you sure you’re not a romantic?”
Draven was amused that she was actually teasing with him, knowing perhaps it was a side of herself that Aydra didn’t get to see much of.
Bala slipped her arm around Nyssa’s shoulders, and Draven’s stomach knotted at how their friendship had developed so quickly.
“Don’t put him on the spot, Nys,” Bala said, glancing back at Draven. “Can’t have him agreeing with you when his Queen has forbidden such a romance… Even if in his heart he’s rooting for you.”
Bala winked his way, and Draven shook his head as he followed the pair out of the castle gates.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AYDRA SPOKE ANIMATEDLY with Dorian for the remainder of the way down to the stadium. She asked him more questions about his exploits the night before, and she told him a few of her own. But even as she seemed to be joking with him, he could see something behind her eyes that made him wonder if she was trying to keep him from asking about Rhaif.
“There they are,” Aydra teased as the pair stepped into the stadium and found Lex and Corbin training below.
The two were parrying with the practice swords, Corbin’s shirt off, and Lex in her strapped bra. Sweating and cursing, hair in shambles, the pair looked as though they’d been fighting for hours.
“Two hours after sunrise, and they’re both already sweating,” Dorian said, hands stuffed in his pockets and stomach knotting at the sight of Corbin like that—disheveled, dripping in sweat, concentration in his brow. Especially after he had joked with him that very morning.
Dorian adjusted his pants as he continued to stare.
“It is rather distracting,” Aydra said under her breath. “Should we disturb them?”
Dorian moved to the throne chairs beneath the canopy and sat, intent on watching them quietly for as long as he could. “They look very deep in concentration. It’d be a shame to break that up,” he said as he kicked his feet up on the railing.
Aydra followed. “Perhaps you’re right. Best to give them space. Observe a while,” and he could hear the tease in her tone. She sat in her own chair and kicked her legs over the arm.
Dorian pulled his pipe from his bag and started packing it as Aydra chewed on her nail and watched the exchange below.
“Sometimes I forget how handsome Corbin is,” she said after a few minutes.
The only reply Dorian could manage was dropping his pipe, and Aydra stared pointedly at him as he recovered himself.
“Did you just fumble?” she asked.
“No,” he replied. “It was the wind.”
Tense silence rested between them as Aydra slowly relaxed back in her chair, and a restlessness ate at Dorian’s insides. He started packing his pipe a little more fervently, trying to ignore the chirping noise that Aydra’s raven was making on the railing. Attempting to block out the small smile Corbin had given him that morning and how it was deteriorating him with confusion.
“Spit it out,” Aydra said.
“He’s making me crazy,” Dorian blurted, and Aydra leaned over to take the pipe from his hands as Dorian started spilling everything. He told her about the way Corbin treated him, as though he hated him, how that morning was the first time he’d seen him smile in his direction.
