Lewis grinned, mischief sparking behind his eyes. “Wouldn’t it be important to say which is which?”
Before the woman could answer, Vivienne drove an elbow into his ribs. He let out a muffled grunt, rubbing his side.
Vivienne plastered on her most diplomatic smile. “Thank you for the instruction. We will take our seats now.”
The woman’s glare followed them all the way to the waiting room.
Vivienne leaned toward Lewis and hissed under her breath, “Gods, I can’t take you anywhere.”
Lewis chuckled, completely unrepentant.
* * *
The antechamber’swalls wrapped around them in rich, dark wood, a stark contrast to the cool, unyielding stone of the entrance hall. Tapestries draped along the walls, their vibrant threads weaving tales of landscapes long past and legendary feats. Against one wall, an ornate fireplace loomed, its broad hearth deep enough to warm the entire space.
A dozen plush, high-backed chairs were arranged in small conversational clusters, their burgundy velvet cushions beckoning. Though the room was empty of other visitors, Vivienne and Lewis gravitated toward a set of chairs near the back.
As she sank into the velvet’s embrace, Vivienne let out a sigh. “These might be the most comfortable chairs in Fendwyr.”
“In the world,” Lewis added, tilting his head back, eyes closed in bliss.
“I’d argue it’s an upgrade from our spot at Rocky Beach,” she commented.
“Hey, Rocky Beach has its perks.”
“Like shoes optional,” she agreed, biting back a wince. The stiff leather of her new boots dug into her heels, the sting of blisters already forming.Brilliant idea, Vivienne. Walk all the way here in brand-new shoes, and you still have to walk all the way back.
For several long moments, they sat in companionable silence, letting the weight of the day melt into the chairs.
Lewis exhaled deeply. “You smell like a garden.”
Vivienne’s eyes flicked open. “I wore perfume today. Is smelling like a garden a good thing?”
His eyes cracked open, a lazy smirk forming as he raised an eyebrow. “Have you met me?”
She chuckled, shaking her head. Lewis closed his eyes again, settling deeper into his chair as Vivienne let her gaze wander the room.
A circular table in the center stood waiting for a tea service that had yet to arrive. Another held a stack of books, none of them new to her. She scanned the fireplace mantel, where two golden candlesticks sat empty, their wax long since burned away.
Above the fireplace, a massive portrait dominated the space, its subject immediately familiar, Queen Metis. Her soft, green eyes seemed to follow Vivienne, their depth masterfully captured in paint, along with her pale alabaster skin, strawberry-blonde hair, a regal tilt of her chin. Vivienne had always admired artists who could breathe life into blank canvas with nothing but paint and brush.
To the left of the fireplace, a royal family portrait hung in an elaborate gilded frame.
Vivienne studied the figures—Queen Metis stood poised beside her auburn-haired husband, Aliferous, their two children seated before them. Sophronia’s red curls fought for escape beneath a ridiculous bonnet, and beside her, young Berius was all but lost beneath a sea of ruffles.
Vivienne found it hard to believe that the man ruling Fendwyr on the other side of these walls had ever been a child.Especially one in ruffles.
Her thoughts wandered to Lewis.Did he consider her a sibling?As an infant, Lewis lost both of his parents during the Siege of Fendwyr and grew up in the Crown’s care program for orphans and displaced families. She and him had been part of the only child club until Briar came into the picture. Vivienne had been fully grown when her parents adopted Briar, and while she cared for her cousin, the thirteen-year gap had left them in separate worlds. Blood wouldn’t have bridged the time between them.
Her gaze shifted to the right of the fireplace. King Berius’ coronation portrait stared back at her, a masterpiece in flattery.
The artist had gone to great lengths to depict him in the best possible light. His posture was too stiff, his shoulders squared with exaggerated command. The expression on his face was one of calculated wisdom, his gaze set toward an unseen horizon as if contemplating the very fabric of fate. His skin, eerily smooth and unblemished, bore no signs of stress or time.A generous interpretation, Vivienne suspected.
“Taking in the gallery?” Lewis’ voice pulled her from her thoughts.
She rolled her shoulders, stretching her neck side to side. “Not much else to do while we wait.”
He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Listen, Viv, no matter what happens today, we’ll find a solution.”
