“I’m not leaving you behind,” Cullen interrupted. Eira pursed her lips. Part of her wanted to find it flattering. The other part of her was still processing what he’d done in the arena today despite herself.
There was a knock on their door before Eira could say anything else.
“Who could that be?” Alyss mused.
“I’ll get it.” Eira pocketed the bead and started for the door, eager to get away. Her eyes met a familiar pair on the other side. “Olivin?” Eira blinked. “I thought you were off to dine with the queen.”
“Soon enough.” He tilted his head slightly to the side, as if he were second-guessing why he was there before Eira could even ask. “I wanted to talk with you about that.”
“Why?”
“The table will be set for four, but since Yonlin hasn’t returned, the attendants have asked me to invite another competitor.”
“And you want me to come?”
“Yes, that’s why I’m here.”
“Why me?” Eira arched her brows.
Olivin chuckled, his lips curling into a smile. “Perhaps I feel bad for the trouncing I gave you.” Eira rolled her eyes and made a noise of disgust. “Perhaps I like your company.”
Eira folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe, silently probing his sincerity. Olivin met her gaze with eyes softer than she’d ever seen from him. He felt more…open.Almost vulnerable. But it quickly vanished as a smirk slid across his lips.
“Or perhaps I have some matters to discuss with you and I feel this will provide us a venue.”
“The truth comes out, as it always does.” Eira was relieved there was some business attached. Otherwise, Cullen’s worries about her and him might have been founded. “I suppose I have nothing else to do.”
“I’m glad I am the better alternative to nothing.” Olivin shifted, hands in his trousers, looking very assured of himself. “Now, get dressed in your best and meet me at Meru’s house in twenty.” He went to leave, paused, and glanced back. “Oh, and make sure something about your attire is…explosive.”
Eira arched her eyebrows, certain she understood him. Olivin just smirked and left. Shaking her head, she turned and went back inside.
“Who was that?” Cullen asked.
“Olivin,” she said, starting for the stairs.
“What did he want?”
“He invited me to dinner, with him, Meru’s competitors, and the queen.” Eira glanced over her shoulder to see Cullen’s reaction. His brows were turned up slightly in the center. But he quickly dismissed the expression the moment their eyes met. He forced a smile.
She hated that they were beginning to do this to each other. But it seemed neither of them could fall out of love with the other. They couldn’t be graceful, and give their love an honorable death. So they continued risking it rotting in limbo.
Eira stood before Meru’s house, trying to smooth the wrinkles in the front of her linen dress. She still had the gown she’d worn to the ball, but that seemed far too formal and had far too many bad memories attached to it now. Her parade competitor’s garb was likely more formal than what she was in now, but that seemed awkward to wear again and, similarly, had less-than-ideal memories attached to it.
This dress was plain, but it was unoffensive. It could be called informal, but Eira thought it was more classic than anything else. Though, the wrinkles in the linen of the skirt were impossible to get out without proper pressing irons.
It was just a dress and just a dinner. She was overthinking its suitability, or lack thereof. Though, she was about to sit with a queen. This powder-blue dress was fine and—the door opened before she could second-guess anymore, revealing Olivin, Menna, and Evanel.
“Eira,” Olivin said with a warm smile. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for inviting me.” Her gaze drifted to the other two competitors. “Is it all right with both of you that I join?”
“He consulted with us before.” Menna wore an emerald silk dress that complemented her fair skin and fiery curls. The dress itself was little more than a slip in form, but Menna carried it like it was a ball gown. Around her neck was a pendant of thread-like gold that bore the symbol of Yargen—three vertical, interlocking circles with a single line drawn through the center.
“It would be too sad to have an empty seat at the table where Yonlin should be. I’m glad it will be filled.” Evanel clasped her shoulder in a friendly manner, as though they were closer than she previously gave them credit for.
“You truly don’t mind, even though Olivin and I dueled?” Eira asked no one in particular.
Evanel was the one to answer. “If Olivin doesn’t mind, why should we? Plus, he was the one who was victorious. Does that make it awkward foryou?” Evanel released her with a slight grin.
