“Menna, Sorrah, Luca, and Evanel, a pleasure.” Eira turned to each of them with a nod of her head and then ended on Alyss. “So what happened after I left?”
“I didn’t see much,” Alyss murmured. Eira could tell something was bothering her by the movement alone. She saw right through her friend, even when Alyss didn’t want her to. It was a vulnerability they both shared. “The plan worked perfectly and I was in my shell the whole time.”
“Cullen stayed up on the posts,” Noelle reported.
“The jerk,” Sorrah muttered.
“Were you the bird?” Eira asked.
“A hawk,” Sorrah corrected. “‘Bird’ makes me sound so pedestrian.”
Ducot snorted. “Gods forbid anyone thinks you’re pedestrian. It’s not as if they couldn’t guess that by the fact that you’re competing in the tournament.”
“What do you mean by that?” Noelle asked the question Eira was wondering.
Ducot busied his mouth with a long sip of ale and then put his flagon down hard. “You don’t see any of the king’s daughters competing is all. And they’re arguably the best the morphi have to offer when it comes to power and skill. Those of us whosigned up were from humble backgrounds—the crazy morphi who would actually go into the heart of Meru willingly.”
“The king’s daughters are overrated,” Sorrah muttered.
“Want to say that to Arwin’s face?” Ducot tilted his head incredulously at her.
Sorrah took a couple long sips of her drink. Then, as if emboldened by the ale, slammed the flagon down and announced, “I would!”
“You would not.” Luca laughed.
“I would,” Sorrah insisted. “I’d bet I can best any of them in one-on-one combat.”
“Into the heart of Meru?” Menna tilted her head. “Why is that a concern?”
“The elfin of Meru hunted us only a few generations back,” Ducot said coolly. The table quieted.
Eira turned to Noelle and Alyss, speaking loud enough to change the topic. “So what all, exactly, did we end up winning?”
“Not sure, yet.” Alyss shrugged. “They said the improvement in our accommodations would come late tonight and reflect the draconi’s skill in weaving.”
“They showed off those silks—I expect a feather duvet!” Noelle slammed her hand on the table. “Bare minimum. Especially if they’re making me wait for it.”
Ducot hummed uncertainly.
Noelle glared at him. “What?”
“I took you as a lady who could wait for it.” He rested his elbow on the table. Somehow, out of everyone, Noelle was the one whose eyes he could meet without issue, even if he couldn’t see her with his own.
Noelle snorted. “I am a lady and should get what I want when I want it. And what I want is to not be cold tonight.”
“I could keep you warm.” He shifted, leaning back now. Every movement put him closer to her.
Noelle snorted. “You are hardly a feather duvet.”
“I will gladly put my weight on top of you.” Ducot swayed slightly in Noelle’s direction. She didn’t back away.
“Speaking of getting a room,” Olivin muttered over his ale.
“Noelle, you’re too drunk to be flirting.” Alyss laughed. She was quickly becoming someone who wasn’t in a position to comment on anyone else’s sobriety.
“Promise me at least that if you get that feather duvet, will you share it?” Ducot’s voice had a little bit of bass to it that Eira wasn’t accustomed to. He was focused completely on Noelle in a manner she’d never seen from him.
“Hmm, depends on how nicely you ask,” Noelle said coyly, almost shyly.
