“I think we could all use a drink,” Sutton laughs.
“I agree,” Alanna grumbles, taking a seat next to me.
Slowly,very slowly, the room finally resumes its normal chatter, though it’s not as lively as when we first walked in. I turn in my seat to find Golem taking up residence against a wall farther away, though he’s still standing directly behind me. His clay face gives me a small, quiet smile, and I bow my head deeply to the gesture, forever grateful for his never-ending presence.
“Whiskey and ale,” a serving boy announces from my side.
He has a small look of fear in his eyes as he maneuvers around Stormfall. I recognize him as the same boy who served us last night, his readied drinks no doubt in remembrance of our lively drinking group.
“And a round of half-whiskeys for the table as well,” I smile, mimicking Cal’s order from last night.
Might as well take the edge off.
“Yes, Lady,” he bows, still eyeing Storm.
“There’s no need to be afraid,” I whisper.
The boy just nods and hurries around the rest of the table, dropping off everyone’s drinks of whiskey and ale before taking off to grab another round. I sigh at his reaction and reach for my mug, thinking that Storm might be too foreboding for his own good.
“Did I hear you order another round of whiskey, Lady Alexis?” Tripler leans forward with a smile, his deep blue eyes sparkling.
“Just for you, Tripler,” I laugh and tip my ale at him, “both you and Sutton have a good deal of catching up to do from last night.”
Tripler and his sister laugh and raise their mugs to the center of the table, the full of our group saluting to the night.
“Those Warriors have had too much of an impact on her…”
“Look at the way she dresses.”
“So improper.”
“Is she even Knowledge anymore?”
“The way she walked into the room with that beast of a bird, as if we lived in an atrium…”
“No. The way she walked into the room with the King’sGolem.”
“What a slap in the face to His Grace.”
“He should immediately demand him back.”
Holis moves closer to me in his seat, as does Alanna. I straighten in my chair and take another long sip of ale before letting my eyes roam to the head table.
The Queen averts her stare on me when I find her first, her husband moving an arm under the table to casually grab her hand. Troy is engaging in a silent but fervent conversation with Prince Isham and Edam, the three of their eye’s flicking back to our table with every tilt of their quiet conversation. Edam openly catches and holds my gaze with an intense hatred, then turns back to the men and continues with the huddled conversation.
My gaze darts back to the Queen, who now looks calm and serene. She smiles at something her husband says and squeezes his hand under thetable. Past the King and to his right are the brown eyes I’ve felt on me since the moment we walked in. I finally take a deep breath and meet that intense gaze, ready to greet my Prince.
Keane hits me with his location summoning the moment our eyes lock. My lower abdomen instantly flushes with his want and need, the pull so strong that my hips quite literally rock in the chair. I hold back a moan and quickly reach for my mug, wanting to scowl at him over the rim but all I can do is give him a lust-filled look. He smirks from afar, eyes dipping to my chest where I know he’s focusing in on the sound of my racing heart. He’s wearing another dark ensemble tonight, though this time he’s in a simple deep green satin shirt, the fabric so rich and thick that the color nearly looks black. He casually leans back in his chair and reveals the long cut down the middle, causing some of the eyes from the women close to his table to swoon at his muscled chest. I find myself focusing on that black chain around his neck and cross my legs to the building ache that needs him between my thighs. The women here can look all they want, but my hands were on those sparkling black and fluorite gems this morning, pulling him closer to me.
I place my mug on the table and absently fiddle with my own ring as I look over the sleeves of his shirt, taking in the full muscles of his arms under the tight satin. Keane’s hand reaches down to grab his glass of whiskey and I notice with a smile that a thin sliver of white is shining against his tanned skin. It’s the scar from the gash he picked up in the Bulwark Plains, and fuck me, it looks good on him.Damngood.
“Your whiskeys, Lady,” the serving boy announces again.
I turn to him with a sigh and remove my gaze from the Prince.
“For the table, please.”
Sutton and Triple beam as the three human soldiers all grin in unison. We all grab the half glasses and raise them again as Sutton toasts our group to a good night ahead.
