I wanted to be alone. There were few whom I enjoyed walking with to my chambers. Kael, Thane when he was mocking folk under his breath, Emi, and Hilda. And Roark.
My insides tightened. Gods. Roark was fast becoming a constant, comforting presence.
Before I could summon up a word of refusal, Tomas had threaded my hand through his arm, and strode with me towardthe palace doors. He spoke fondly of craft and Myrda, lauding his accomplishments, even going so far as to say if Jorvandal did not have a prince, he would’ve been a candidate for Yrsa’s hand.
Pleasant, but pompous.
We crossed into the front hall, me speaking a handful of words, and Tomas having said much more.
“I would love to escort you through the Myrdan glades, Súlka Bien.” Tomas flashed a white smile. “The Grisen lands are surrounded by endless knolls, quite lovely countryside.”
“I do not think I would be permitted to leave Stonegate, Ser Grisen.”
“With our position in the court,” Tomas said, disregarding my words, “anyone who dared disrespect you would be punished. I would personally see to it. I would see to it you had the finest gowns.”
“How thoughtful.”
Tomas beamed like he’d won some great victory, utterly missing the bite to my tone.
“Any lady would see it as an honor to be a guest of the second-most-powerful house in Myrda.” There was a bitterness to his tone. After a breath, Tomas softened his features and smiled. “I suppose that will all change with this betrothal. You serve the royal house at Stonegate, but Myrda is soon to be tied to that house. I am certain your craft will be shared across borders.”
Unease slithered low in my belly. I did not care for being seen as some sort of possession merely because of the blood in my veins.
King Damir saw me as such. Now, it would seem, so did Myrda.
“Thank you for walking me,” I said, unthreading my arm. “I can manage from here.”
“It is no trouble. I can walk you the rest of the way.”
I didn’t want Tomas of Myrda to know my chamber door. “Thank you, but—”
“Lyra!”
Gods, a swell of relief bloomed like a second heart in my chest. Prince Thane strode down the corridor, already dressed in his fine clothes and polished boots. Bruises still marked his features from the attack, but he was a great deal more like himself.
Tomas bowed at the waist. “Highness.”
Thane greeted the man with a flick of his brows, then turned to me. “I hope you’ll forgive me, Melder Bien, but your presence is needed elsewhere before the feast.”
“Oh. Of course.” I took a step closer to the prince.
“Súlka Bien.” Tomas held out a hand between us. “I hope you might do me the honor of sitting with me.”
“Afraid she’ll be considered an honored guest, ser.” Thane took hold of my arm, tugging me against his side. “She’ll be at the high table.”
“A dance, then,” Tomas said, the slightest snap of irritation in his tone.
“Perhaps,” I said in a rough breath as the prince bid a prompt farewell and spun us away.
When we were around the corner, I snorted a horrid-sounding laugh, stumbling against Thane’s side.
“Gods, Lyra.” Thane nudged my shoulder. “How do you manage to attract such odious company? Tomas Grisen is one of the haughtiest men in all of Myrda, according to Yrsa.”
“Aggravating men simply find me.” I nudged him back. “Some rescue me.”
“I shall take that as a compliment.” Prince Thane used his chin to direct me toward a winding staircase that would take us to his wingof the palace. “You have truly been summoned. Before the tedious chatter suffocates us at the feast, come have a bit of enjoyment.”
“What are you talking about?”
