“All right. Enough, the both of you.” The prince heaved himself onto one of the fur-lined lounges and crossed his ankles. “Yes, Roark is magnificent, but we’re not here to watch him grow insufferably conceited. He already does it enough.”
Roark knocked Thane’s feet off the edge of his seat.
The prince was undeterred and raised a horn. “We are here to celebrate our own rebelliousness and distaste for being flaunted as the tools of two kingdoms.”
Princess Yrsa laughed at something Emi said. Roark stood at my shoulder, and I found I wouldn’t mind if he came closer.
The levity ended too soon, when a servant announced we were to dress. The first star had brightened the sky and the feast would soon begin.
Emi invited me to dress with her and Yrsa. I took advantage of the offer, continuing to laugh after we entered the princess’s bedchamber.
“Oh, Lyra.” Yrsa covered her mouth once I stepped around the dressing shield. “You are stunning.”
The fabric of my first commissioned gown was the color of a green sea. The sleeves were split, revealing most of my shoulders, and on one side, a slit opened to my upper thigh. Carved bone beads were stitched along the bodice in the shape of the gods’ tree. Yrsa was skilled in braids and had maneuvered half my hair into tight rows along the sides of my scalp, leaving the rest flowing down my back in long waves.
“As are you.” It was true. Both Emi and Yrsa looked made for royalty.
The princess wore a gown of delicate gold lace, her lips painted to match, and more shimmery powder lined her dark eyes.
Emi kept her hair long over her shoulders. She chose Margun’s black satin, but it was a trick of the eye. Every step past a sconce with a flame, and the ebony skirt shimmered in midnight blue.
Emi stood guard by the princess with me behind them until we reached the corridor near the great hall. Roark waited for us outside the double doors. The princess entered the hall, chin lifted, Emi at her back, and I was left to enter with the Sentry alone.
Roark’s verdant gaze took in my dress, then blinked as through a fog back to my face.
I tightened my grip on his hand for a breath, then two, until he offered an arm for me to hold instead.
“Don’t let me fall in there,” I whispered.
Unlike the first time we stood beyond this doorway when Roark said nothing, he took my hand and lifted the back to his lips. I did not blink, watching until his mouth met my knuckles.
When he pulled back, he traced one word against my palm.Never.
33
Roark
The hall was packed withtall headdresses and doublets the color of hummingbird wings. Lyra’s fingers dug into my arm, the only hint she was unsettled. Her face was a mask of unbothered indifference.
Darkwin caught her in his sights and winked. He was seated at one of the tables with the Stav Guard and more than one noble daughter.
We took our places on the dais beside the king and queen, a position of honor.
I handed Lyra into one of the high-backed chairs. Hundur and his harsh eyes watched her every move, and he wasn’t alone. Beady gazes devoured her, a sea of serpents waiting to strike. Melder craft always brought with it fascination and awe, but also fear and suspicion.
A dangerous combination.
One I disregarded in the seasons I knew Fadey. He was a boor, snobbish and cruel.
Lyra was both timid and bold, mild and fierce. I took in the gawkers while she settled into her chair. Something cold, almost dark, drove through me like a lash. A possessive sort of need to tear her away from their scrutiny.
“Roark. Are you all right?” Her eyes, dyed dark as black cherries, grew wider.
I’d not realized how stiff I was, how much pinched disdain tightened my face. I took my place beside her, tossing back a long gulp of sour mead.
The feast opened with a winded speech from Damir about the rescue of his son. Lyra’s name was spoken like a reverent secret. Mine was chanted by the Stav. I kept my gaze trained on the stone floor, wishing to be anywhere but there. Then Damir began to boast about his army and Thane’s utter devotion to the safety of his future wife as though the king hadn’t chastised his son viciously for his stupidity days before.
Part of me wondered if Damir would have us speak. The king always took a bit of twisted amusement watching me finger speak and needing another to translate. More than my hope I would not be urged to stand, I hoped Damir would stay his amusement for humiliation for Lyra’s sake.
