I slip it on over my head, the square neck showing just a hint of cleavage, the shirred ruffle material stretched around my breasts. Just below, the skirt gathers in ashen layers dragged down past my ankles, the sleeves just a sparse bit of sheer folds hanging from the tops of my shoulders. It’s simple but pretty, and it’s a hell of a lot more comfortable than any of the dresses I had to wear in Fifth Kingdom.
Slade comes striding out of the closet, fingers doing up the button at his wrist. His long-sleeved shirt is black as usual, but with thick brown strands threaded at the shoulder seams, and bicone brass buttons trimmed down the front. The shirt is tucked into black pants that hug his groin and thighsverynicely. With boots and the formal jacket he pulls on, he looks intimidating and sexy, his hair still slightly damp from his own wash-up.
His gaze casts down my figure and back up again, and he comes over to slip an arm around my waist and pull me close. His lips press against the top of my head. “You look beautiful.”
“So do you,” I say as he pulls away.
Digging into his pocket, he pulls out the dainty bracelet he bought from the market and slips it onto my wrist. “You should gild this as soon as you can,” he tells me.
“Why?” I ask curiously, finger running over the dark gemstone.
“You can’t create new gold in the night, but you can still call to it. I always want you to have some on you so you can protect yourself.”
I smile. “Smart.”
He curls a strand of my hair around his finger and then tugs it gently, gaze searching my face. “Are you ready for this dinner?”
My fingers twist together. Not really, but Slade and I discussed at length how we’re going to handle Manu when certain topics arise. Still, it’s nerve-wracking, especially knowing what they want.
Instead of voicing those concerns, I say, “I’ve been a fixture in the backgrounds of many political talks.”
“But you won’t be a fixture, and you won’t be in the background. You’ll be at my side.”
That fact both intimidates me and encourages me.
“What do you think Manu will say?”
Slade shrugs. “He’s advisor to his sister. Everything he says tonight will be his political strives to strengthen Kaila’s position. It’ll be interesting to see what angle they choose to play.”
“They’re summoning me to a Conflux. I’d say their angle is that they hate me.”
“Hate has nothing to do with it,” Slade replies. “When it comes to the games the monarchs in this world play—me included—it’s about strategy. There are no feelings involved, it’s just about power. How to get it, how to keep it, how to attain more of it. And most of all, how to make sure others don’t have more power than them.”
“Like the rumor of me stealing Midas’s magic,” I muse.
“Indeed.”
“These political schemes are exhausting.”
“They can be,” he says. “But being a king was the only way I could ensure protection of Deadwell, and taking over Fifth Kingdom wasn’t viable at the time. Plus, I hate the cold.”
I snort.
“Shall we?” he asks, holding out his arm.
I grab the new elbow-length gloves from the foot of the bed and pull them on before I slip my hand into the crook of his arm.
Together, we leave his rooms, my free hand skimming the curved railing as we begin our descent to the bottom floor. The flat soles of my shoes pad silently across the tile as we go across the entryway and head for the back of the castle, the space tightening into a corridor. Dark wood wainscoting stretches halfway up the walls, each one carved into a perfectly symmetrical square and clasped with leafy wallpaper above it.
Slade leads me past the iron wall piece at my left, the metal formed into a twisted tree, its roots stretched down as if disappearing into the paneled wood.
“Sire.” The guard standing watch at a doorway nods at Slade as we approach.
“Has the ambassador from Third come down yet?”
The guard shakes his head. “Not yet, Your Majesty. He’s still in his rooms.”
“Good.”
