‘I wouldn’t trust that man as far as I can throw him. You should watch your back.’
Borin tutted. ‘I find him to be a very progressive sort of man.’
That spoke volumes.
‘Tonight’s guests are not thrilled at the recent news of my engagement,’ Borin continued. ‘And who can blame them? We are breaking with tradition. However, the merchants like her, and anything that gets them off my back is a good thing.’ He stopped when they reached the entrance to the hall and looked at Astin. ‘Goodness gracious. You look positively miserable. It is a feast, for heaven’s sake. It seems you returned to me just in time.’ He tugged his tunic straight, then stepped inside.
Borin strode in with his chin jutted out and one arm tucked behind his back. He was under the illusion that certain poses made him appear more mature than his twenty years, when in fact they only made him look like an even bigger fool.
‘His Majesty King Borin of Chadora’ came the announcement. The room fell silent to watch the king enter.
Astin walked over to Thatchere, another bodyguard who was already inside. ‘Make sure everything is tasted before it comes into this room. And I want eyes on every door.’
Thatchere nodded.
Then Astin did what he did best: he made himself invisible for the evening. He took note of the guests in attendance, any weapons displayed or concealed, and made a mental note of anything or anyone the slightest bit suspicious. He watched carefully as the king moved about the room, greeting guests and accepting their lukewarm congratulations. Lord Thomas Welche was, of course, in attendance with his wife and daughter. Astin noticed that the guests offered their congratulations to him also, as if Lyndal’s achievement was somehow his doing. The lord accepted the sentiments, all the while presenting his daughter at every opportunity. With her cousin betrothed to the king, Lady Kendra was now prime picking for eligible lords.
When Lyndal appeared at the door, the room fell silent again, guests casting both curious and judgemental glances in her direction. Astin could hear them quietly scrutinising everything from her gown to her gait as she went to greet the man she was to marry. She did not seem concerned by the negative attention, her face calm and always a smile upon it. But he expected nothing less from her.
Astin did not let his eyes linger on her for long. The memories from that morning were too fresh for that. He could still feel the weight of her on his lap, recall the exact temperature of her mouth, and hear her exhale when his hand had climbed her thigh. Her hair had been loose, soft golden waves falling down her shoulders. Now it was pulled tightly back, so she was all painted lips and coloured cheeks. A pearl necklace hung around that pretty neck of hers. Even without the crown, she was a true queen.
Astin tried very hard to focus on other things, but his eyes kept returning to her. When her gaze drifted in his direction, he saw all the confidence drain from her face. He hated being the reason for her deflation, so he looked away.
Keep the king safe, see him back to his quarters, then return to the barracks.He had done it a thousand times before. So why did the job feel like such a slog suddenly?
Roul came to stand beside him, eyes sweeping the room.
‘Keep an eye on Lord Thomas,’ Astin said. ‘I don’t trust him.’
Roul glanced in the lord’s direction. ‘Noted.’
He knew he should not ask, but he did it anyway. ‘How did she seem this afternoon?’
‘Better since her sister arrived. She was a mess after the announcement.’
Astin blinked slowly and said nothing.
A moment later, Lyndal’s soft laughter rang out, drawing the attention of everyone around her. And there was that smile that could bring any man to his knees—except the king, apparently.
Turning his attention back to Borin, he tried his best to shut her out.
Lyndal tried very hard not to be sick all over herself in the middle of the crowded room. She had no idea how she was supposed to survive the evening under such intense scrutiny. Borin had a way of making her feel no better than the servants bringing out the food—extra problematic because shewasno better than the servants bringing out the food. She was as common as they came, and everyone there knew it. She may have been more educated than some due to her mother’s extraordinary effort, but nowhere near as accomplished as the other women in the room. It was unfortunate that she was the only one with a plan to help the merchants. It meant she had to swallow down her nausea and keep that frozen smile on her face. Except every time her eyes drifted in Astin’s direction—which was far too often—it became harder and harder to maintain.
It stung how easily he had slipped back into his life before her. But that was defenders for you. If only she could switch her feelings off so easily. He had a way of dominating the room by simply being present. It was partly due to his height but mostly his confidence. Why did he have to be so easy on the eye? Why did her insides float at the sight of him in his black uniform and leather armour?
Lyndal spotted Kendra alone at the food table, so she excused herself from the conversation between Borin and Lady Petula. The two cousins had not spoken since Kendra’s sudden departure, and she could not stand the thought of there being bad blood between them.
‘I was hoping to see you tonight,’ Lyndal said, her stomach in knots.
Kendra turned in surprise. ‘Cousin.’ She found a smile. ‘Congratulations. What happy news.’
‘Thank you.’ At least she was being civil. ‘I just wanted to say how sorry I am.’
‘For what?’
Lyndal tilted her head. ‘You know what.’
Kendra exhaled with relief. ‘It is me who should be apologising. I left you here believing I resented you. I do not resent you, I envy you. Every woman in this room envies you.’
