He seemed a little startled by her question, but he recovered easily. “Yes, that’s true. Some of the chancellors thought it wasn’t the wisest course.”
“Were you one of them?”
Kulver’s expression tightened, though his smile remained in place. “Yes, actually. But not because I oppose the emperor’s idealistic vision. I just think politics should be left to those who have been trained.” He leaned in, his voice pitched low. “Tell me honestly, Amryn. Do you see yourself as a politician?”
“No.” She saw no point in lying.
Kulver dipped his chin. “Not only that, but I suspect you have no political aspirations.”
The only aspiration she’d ever had was to stay as far away from the emperor and the church as possible; to keep her secret, and her life. “You’re right,” she said.
Her confirmation only strengthened his self-assurance. The corner of his mouth lifted. “And yet, now you’re a politician. An important one, at that. And none of you got to finish your training, because your time at Esperance was cut short. Some of the chancellors are, understandably, a little concerned.”
“Like Trevill was concerned?”
Kulver’s smile fell. “That traitor doesn’t represent the chancellors. The damage he’s caused . . . May he rot in that cell for the rest of his life.” Nothing in his voice or emotions hinted that he knew Trevill was dead.
Amryn watched as he took another drink from his nearly empty glass. “You didn’t consider Trevill to be a friend, then?”
“No. We spoke on occasion, and he was welcoming enough when I became a chancellor.” Kulver’s chest puffed out. “I’m the youngest member to ever be admitted onto the emperor’s advisory staff.”
“Is that supposed to impress me?” Amryn asked, lifting her glass to her lips.
He watched her too intently before saying, “I’m not sure what might impress you, Amryn. I’m beginning to think you’re wholly unique.”
Before she could attempt to form a response, searing jealousy punched through the bloodstone’s muting effect, marking the exact moment Carver spotted her and Kulver together.
Her head snapped up, and she easily found Carver as he all but stalked toward them.
Kulver followed her gaze. He laughed softly. “It seems we’ve caught your husband’s attention.” His glee over that fact made her stomach squirm.
She sidestepped Kulver, though he was quick to readjust and stand at her side. His elbow brushed her arm, and she instinctively jerked back.
Carver’s stab of annoyance was sharp enough to border on anger, and his eyes cut between them as he drew to a stop in front of them.
Kulver’s smile didn’t falter under Carver’s sharp scrutiny. “General Vincetti, I presume?”
“Yes.” Carver’s tone was stiff. “Who are you?”
“Chancellor Ryun Kulver.” He held out a hand.
Carver took it. Amryn winced as she saw his grip flex, and she felt the spark of resulting pain in Kulver.
Surprisingly, the politician didn’t flinch. Instead, his own grasp deliberately tightened.
Amryn felt determination throb from both men, stronger than any bite of pain they felt. She didn’t think either of them would deign to pull away first.
She sidled closer to Carver, her voice filled with false calm. “I was wondering where you’d gone.”
Her words were supposed to diffuse the situation, but Carver didn’t even glance at her as he said, “And I thought you were still with my father, until I found himand realized that wasn’t the case.” His tone was hard, his eyes even harder as they remained locked on Kulver. His knuckles had turned white, and the tendons in his hand strained.
Clearly, a more direct approach was needed to break them apart. Amryn curled her fingers around Carver’s elbow and tugged.
For a moment, she didn’t think he’d release Kulver. But—after a final clench that sparked pain in Kulver and male satisfaction in Carver—he dropped his hold and set his hand over hers, pressing her palm against his arm to keep it pinned there.
It was an unmistakable claiming, and Kulver knew it. His smile climbed higher. He liked a challenge. It must have made the seduction more exhilarating for him. “Worried about losing your wife?” he asked Carver, his eyes glinting with both humor and excitement. The double meaning in his words was vibrantly clear.
Carver watched him steadily. “No.”
