Which meant his opinion of me mattered most.
Dinner began smoothly enough. Pleasant, inconsequential conversation picked up again. The food was excellent, though I barely tasted it. Emrys said little, head bowed, fork working lazily across his plate. But I felt him beside me even if he was completely closed off—a storm blustered just beneath his surface. I’d given him twice as many tinctures as I had Nisien and the injured soldier. It seemed he’d taken one tonight, but I still worried how long his composure would hold with all the pressure in the room.
Once, as I reached for my goblet, Emrys’s finger brushed mine as he grabbed his fork. He recoiled from it with such speed that I worried he’d upset the table. But no, he was too agile for that. Fork and food flew into his mouth as he roughly swallowed his apparent distaste for my nearness.
Maybe spending time with Nisien had started to rub off on me because I couldn’t help but needle Emrys about it. “Careful, Your Highness. Wouldn’t want an accidental touch to start these rumors you seem so concerned over.” I smirked.
His expression cracked a bit at the edges. “If I ever touch you on purpose, you’ll know.”
“Threats now, Lord Prince?”
His eyes blazed with pure heat as they locked onto mine. “Never a threat, Lady Isca. A promise.” His hand trembled before he looked away again.
I wasn’t certain what to make of what he’d said, but a nervous flutter of anticipation quickened my pulse.
From that point on, every time I shifted in my seat, every time my hair brushed against the skin exposed by my dress, the air around him seemed to change. I didn’t dare look, but I couldfeelhis magic reaching out to mine in the space between us. It was incredibly distracting, like having a blunt claw tap me on the shoulder while I was in the middle of conversation.
At some point, Lady Briallen turned to me. Her voice was all honeyed interest but sharp at the edges. “How many siblings do you have, Lady Isca?”
An innocent question. “Six. Three sisters and three brothers.”
Her eyebrows rose. “All born with the gift?”
“Yes. Well, we suspect my youngest brother’s magic is close to awakening. I’m sad to be away for it, but I’ve enjoyed my time in Darreth so far.”
Lord Rydic’s interest piqued. “And you can sway emotions, yes? Care to give us a demonstration?”
I’d had a feeling this would happen. “Of course. What shall I do, Lord Rydic?”
He raised a hand and scratched at his beard. “Could you perhaps make my wifethinkshe loves me? She still hasn’t forgiven me for not granting enough land to her nephew.”
The very moment Lady Gwenna tapped his shoulder in playful chiding, his laughter erupted like a geyser, a sound that echoed in the room. To my surprise, she did love him, and he her. I’d thought that rare amongst the nobility.
Once his laughter subsided, he said, “Something simple and pleasant, Lady Isca. No need to tax yourself.”
“A great man like you surely has a mountain of worries on his shoulders—”
Emrys’s gaze snapped to me. He recognized the line from the day I’d sold him that tincture. I was purposefully teasing him for not answering my question about how I’d start a rumor.
“—you deserve a bit of relaxation.”
I recalled the blissful feeling of that first hot bath after reaching the castle, the steam, the lavender and how my aching muscles finally began to unwind after days of travel. I packaged it all up and sent my gift across the table.
Lord Rydic immediately slumped back in his chair, shoulders relaxing. He braced his hands on the table, saying, “After that display, I’m considering stealing you for myself.”
Emrys’s knuckles went white around his goblet. He whispered over Lord Rydic’s next words, “Enjoying showing off?”
I hissed, “Yes. At least my power works on him.”
He muttered darkly, “Your charm works on everyone. They’ll circle you like hounds now.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, startled. But of course he didn’t answer.
Lord Rydic continued putting on a show, ignorant of the rising storm sitting next to me. His meaty finger thudded against the table as if he’d already made some important decision. “You would be an asset in any negotiation. My son could use tempering.And a wife.”
“If he needs tempering, send him to a blacksmith,” Emrys growled, expression promising murder.
Lord Rydic barely reacted, as if the look was a familiar occurrence from Emrys.
