Henrik’s knife scraped against his plate. “The buildings used to be sound, but the humans, they don’t keep up with repairs. They’re…well, made for different things.”
“How so?”
Henrik gestured with his fork. “They’re happier with simple tasks. It’s in their nature.”
A chill swept into the room, and I shivered.
“Tell me, Henrik,” Vaeris said softly. “Do you know much about my mother’s nature?”
Henrik blanched.
Shadows began pooling at Vaeris’s feet. “She was human. Built forsimple tasks.”
“Your Highness, I spoke without thinking.”
“No.” Vaeris smiled, and the candle flames rippled toward him. “You said exactly what you think. Which makes me wonder what other opinions you hold.”
The candlelight flickered.
Henrik flinched. “I would never question your authority.”
The air chilled even more and frost crystallized on the glasses, Taryn’s breath coming out in puffs. She pressed herself back in her seat as shadowy tendrils climbed the walls.
“I’m glad we understand each other.”
Vaeris’s smile sharpened. The candles steadied, warmth returning to the room.
Something twisted in my chest—a flutter of pride mixed with confusion. This was the Vaeris I remembered,who’d whispered about making the world better for people like us.
Henrik stroked my arm. “Pour the prince more wine before he thinks we’ve forgotten our manners.”
I took the wine jug and moved to Vaeris. I poured, the deep blue spirit slipping into the glass. Then I turned to Henrik and filled his cup.
Henrik laughed, then reached for his drink. A light flush crawled up his throat, bleeding into his cheeks. “I don’t often get attached to servants, but this one grows on you like a houseplant.”
Taryn shifted, her mouth thinning as her eyes darted between Vaeris and me.
Vaeris set his drink down with a soft clink. “Obedience isn’t a virtue. It’s licking the boot before it steps on them.”
My hand froze around the jug.
Henrik raised a brow. “Harsh words, my prince.”
Vaeris leaned back in his chair. “Merely an observation. She’ll be easy to control. She only needs a warm bed. The rest handles itself.”
The room tilted.
A warm bed.
I clutched the wine jug, my fingers white-knuckling the neck. I’d known what I was to him—a convenient distraction that he’d never publicly acknowledge. I’d ended things because of it, but hearing him say it out loud cleaved into my heart.
Breathe.Play the perfect servant for five more minutes.
I focused on stacking plates, anything but his cruelty, then disappeared into the kitchen to suck in a broken breath.
Rheya stood near the sink. She turned, frowning. “Aelie?”
I slammed the tray onto the counter, the dishes rattling. Then I scurried up the narrow servants’ staircase.
