“You need to come to the townhome for dinner tomorrow night,” she said. “Then I can feed you properly.”
Ivan—who had allowed himself to be plied with endless food rather than risk offending Alora—looked a little sick at the prospect of ever eating again.
Now, Amryn and Alora stood on the balcony, looking at the glittering stars above them. Ivan and Elowen remained in the room, talking in soft murmurs.
Carver’s mother sighed. “I think you should come stay at the townhouse until Carver returns.”
Amryn knew it would soothe some of Alora’s nerves if she said yes, but she couldn’t. “I need to be near Jayveh,” she said. Tonight was the first evening Amrynhadn’tspent with the princess, since the days of private mourning had just ended this morning. But Amryn knew her friend still needed her close.
Alora’s lips pressed into a line. “If I had my way, she’d come, too.” She eyed the palace. “There’s a bad feeling here.”
“I know what you mean,” Amryn murmured.
Alora reached out to clasp her hand. As her eyes fell to the bracelet on Amryn’s wrist, she smiled gently. “When my son went to Esperance, I feared he was going to miss out on finding love. Little did I know, he would find the perfect woman for him.”
Shocked by the words—and the sincerity that lived in each one—Amryn could only say, “I love him.”
Alora’s smile widened. “I know.” She enfolded Amryn in a tight embrace. “I’m so glad he has you,” she whispered.
Tears stung Amryn’s eyes.
When Alora drew back—moisture shining in her own eyes—she huffed. “Stop that now. No tears. If I start, I won’t stop, and I need to get home to my little ones.”
They moved back into the room together. Ivan caught their approach and stood, Elowen rising from her chair a beat behind him.
Alora’s expression was knowing as she studied them, a small smile playing about her lips, but all she said was, “I think it’s time to call it a night.”
“Perhaps you should stay at the palace, Lady Vincetti,” Ivan said. “It is quite late.”
“I can’t be away from my babies for so long,” Alora said, reaching up to pat Ivan’s cheek. “You’re sweet to worry about me, though.”
A blush spread over the prince’s face. “At least allow me to summon a few more guards to escort you.”
“No need. I have some of Cregon’s men waiting with the carriage. Besides, Elowen is coming with me.”
Ivan glanced sharply at Elowen. “You are leaving?”
Elowen frowned at her mother, though her words were for Ivan. “Yes, but only for a day or two. My mother convinced me she’d fall into a depressed stupor if one more child of hers refused her wishes.”
Alora rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I wasn’t that dramatic.”
Elowen gave her a look, though love coursed beneath the surface. “I was playing it down, Mother. You wereembarrassinglydramatic.”
“Well, I can’t help it! I knew Berron would refuse dinner tonight, and I knew Amryn wouldn’t come home with me, for Jayveh’s sake. I need at least one of my daughters by my side.”
Alora’s total acceptance of her made Amryn’s heart expand in her chest.
As final goodbyes were said, Amryn felt the tug of Ivan’s inner battle. She took pity on him. “Go with them. Make sure they get home safely.”
Ivan immediately shook his head. “I should stay and—”
“I’ll be fine,” Amryn interrupted. “I’m not leaving this room again tonight, and you know Jayveh assigned me some of her bodyguards in addition to Cregon’s men. Besides, you never guard me overnight.” Not when he shadowed her all day.
It took a little more convincing, but eventually Ivan gave in. Alora and Elowen gave Amryn a final hug, Ivan reminded her to lock the door, and then they were gone.
Amryn knew she should prepare for bed, but restlessness clung to her. She couldn’t stop thinking about Carver and what he might be doing right now. If Tam had led him into a trap and he was in danger, or if she was leading him nowhere and just hoping for a chance to escape.
She needed a distraction. Anything to take her mind off her worry—and the sense of foreboding that hung in the air around her, which seemed even stronger since Alora had mentioned it. Amryn considered pulling out Von’s journal, but his depressing words didn’t appeal. Her eyes wandered to her cello, which was in its case in the corner. She’d played it whenever she could the last few days, as it brought her peace—and kept Carver close, even though he wasn’t here—but it was late for playing. Berron might be the only other occupant in this hall tonight, but she could feel the restless sleep he was struggling with, and she didn’t want to disturb him further.
