Eira had expected, at best, totolerateNoelle throughout the tournament. But after the past minute, the Firebearer might just be Eira’s new favorite person. Eira was taking notes on how effortlessly Noelle could dance around Yemir.
“Then, I think this is all settled,” Cullen decreed.
“Are you sure you’d like to come? As your friend said, it’s going to be very boring,” Yemir said sternly to Eira.
“I’d love to.” While she was mildly annoyed at Cullen for maneuvering her into this situation, Eira gleaned the most enjoyment she’d had in the past day from Yemir’s agitation.
“Excellent, I’ll quickly get dressed.” Cullen rested a hand on her shoulder. “Wear something nice, but don’t worry about being too fancy,” he instructed and then started for his room.
“A word.” His father was quick to chase after him, leaving Eira reeling and debating just what she should wear to a state dinner with representatives from nations she’d hardly even known about months ago.
* * *
The manor the delegates were staying in was a four-story building. Similar to the competitor’s accommodations, every state was given their own private retreats—though smaller, since each state only had two to four delegates currently. The other main difference was the balconies, jutting from the sides of the building in a way that reminded Eira vaguely of mushrooms on a stump. And, in place of terraces down to the river, the house boasted a sweeping veranda that had a stunning view of the castle of Meru on its distant hilltop.
Which was where dinner was served.
The initial introductions were an endless revolution of names that Eira was already forgetting. She stayed by Cullen’s side, wondering constantly just what she was doing there. Coming for the purpose of agitating Yemir suddenly seemed foolish when she was sitting across from a draconi prince and a morphi princess—warrior? Knight? Eira wasn’t quite sure. She was the daughter of the king, but that didn’t seem to make her the princess in their kingdom. Her title was something like Eighth Royal Guard of the Twilight Kingdom.
Luckily, Cullen was seated next to her, serving as both a barrier to Yemir and as a cover to any gaps in her diplomatic knowledge. A forgotten corner of her screamed, raging at how little she had done so far to learn about Meru and its surrounding peoples. But the words of the woman she had once been were muffled. The hunger for knowledge she’d once possessed had been lost, too, sunken alongside Marcus.
“What do you think?” Cullen whispered with a lean toward her. The proximity pulled Eira from the depths.
“The food is very good.” She pressed her lips into a smile.
“It is, but I didn’t bring you here for the food.” He shifted, facing her a bit more. His knee brushed hers underneath the table, sending a jolt straight up her spine. He didn’t break the contact.
“What did you bring me here for?” Her attention dropped to his mouth. The soft, coy curve of his lips was more inviting than she ever wanted to admit.
“Isn’t this what you dreamed of? Seeing Risen, meeting its people? It’d be a shame if you spent the whole time in your room.”
Eira shifted, suddenly uncomfortable in her chair. Somehow it made hermoreaware of their contact. This whole affair was awkward. But it had come from a good place. Her knuckles brushed his and the rusty dusk colored his cheeks slightly. Neither of them moved, knee and knuckles touching. How did such a small expanse of skin set her whole body ablaze with a fire her magic could never hope to douse?
What are you doing to me, Cullen Drowel?The question burned her lips.
“Cullen,” Yemir said, a little too loud. They were both jolted back to reality. “How are you finding your course?”
“Delicious, Father.” Cullen picked up his silverware, leaving the skin on the back of Eira’s hand suddenly frigid. But his knee still didn’t leave hers.
Eira didn’t move either as the conversation shifted throughout dinner. She listened for anything interesting, and for anything she might be able to take back to the Court of Shadows as a possible lead on the Pillars. But when there was none to be had, she forced herself to be fascinated by every bit of insight she could gain on their different states and cultures. Cullen was right. Every moment was an opportunity of some kind. It wasn’t until dessert was served—berry compote on meringue—that the conversation shifted in a manner that had Eira intently focused.
“Jahran, has there been any word on when the tournament might actually begin?” Alvstar asked. He was the most recent addition from the Republic of Qwint, arriving just an hour before this dinner. Sure enough, the delegation from Qwint had been delayed due to security precautions.
“Queen Lumeria will set an opening date in conjunction with all four other nations when she is confident that the tournament and all its attendees and competitors will be safe.” Jahran was “Lumeria’s Quill”—a diplomat, policymaker, and the queen’s right hand as far as Eira had gathered.
“So you’ve said.” Alvstar suppressed a yawn. He’d said at the start he’d had a long journey and begged forgiveness for any lethargy. “But what I suppose I am unclear on is what threat, exactly, Lumeria is afraid of.”
Cullen glanced in Eira’s direction and she pursed her lips, quickly turning back to her food. Yemir didn’t say anything either. Ferro’s crimes in Solaris were still being kept secret, for now. It would look bad for the queen if knowledge of his escape became public.
“If Lumeria needs assistance in securing her cities, I am sure my father would be happy to send his armies,” Harkor said, leaning back in his chair and picking at his teeth with a chicken bone. The draconi prince had been the one she’d overheard speaking with Deneya on his arrival—the one who’d called humans and elfin “soft and weak.”
“You can send word to King Tortium that Lumeria is grateful for his willingness to assist. But marching his armies to Meru isn’t necessary at this time.” Jahran smiled thinly.
“One needs to first know whom they’re fighting to launch an effective counter-attack,” the morphi sitting across from Eira—Arwin—murmured into her wine glass.
She knows something. The hair on the back of Eira’s neck stood straight up as she met Arwin’s eyes. The woman had the smallest of smirks.
Judging from Jahran’s expression, Lumeria’s Quill had clearly heard Arwin’s remark, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he said, “Friends and allies. Why don’t we adjourn from the table and enjoy the last of the sunset over Risen with a nightcap?”
