“Come,” the king said, “join us.”
He kept his gaze locked on Cora’s a breath longer, then strode up to the table and claimed the only remaining seat—to the right of Morkai.
Soon after, a pair of servants entered, far fewer than she’d ever seen attend one of the king’s meals before. Where was everyone? Where were the maids? Where was Master Benedict, the castle’s steward? The servants’ faces were slack, eyes dull and glossy as they filled the plates with food and the glasses with wine. Lex dove in at once, but Cora could hardly bring a bite to her lips. Her stomach was tied too tightly in knots. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she needed to ask her brother, but she could do none of it with Morkai sitting so close. She’d have to find a way to get him alone.
She glanced at Dimetreus and found him looking right back. “Eat, sister. You must be starving after everything you’ve been through.”
His expression was so kind, so full of concern, that she couldn’t help but bring a spoonful of soup to her mouth just to appease his worry. She hardly tasted it, for her mind was wrapped around what he’d said. It was the first indication he’d given to suggest her appearance at dinner was anything but a pleasant-yet-not-unusual surprise. He’d expressed no shock over seeing her alive, shed no tears over how she’d aged, harbored no residual scorn over having once thought she’d murdered his wife.
She finished another sip of soup before facing Dimetreus. “After everything I’ve been through?” she asked, infusing her tone with only mild curiosity. She chose her next words carefully. “How much do you know?”
She could almost feel Morkai’s stare burning straight through her brother, but she kept her gaze on the king. Dimetreus’ expression fell. “A grave injustice was done to you, Aveline. I hope you believe that, had I known you were still alive, I would have come for you. Even when I thought you were lost along with my dearest Linette, I worked to avenge you. Istillwork to avenge you.”
Her blood went cold with dread. “How are you working to avenge me?”
“Don’t you worry, sister, Selay will pay for what they’ve done.”
“Selay.” Cora and Teryn uttered the word in unison.
“Yes,” Dimetreus said. He took a deep drink of wine and turned toward Teryn. “If not for you rescuing my sister, I would have still thought Menah was involved.”
“Involved with what?” Cora asked, drawing her brother’s attention back to her.
“Involved with…” His throat bobbed. When he spoke next, his voice was strained. “I hate to even think about it. How Selay sent a spy into our midst, someone I unwittingly let get so close to my wife while I…” He slammed his fist on the table, making Cora jump. “That wretched maid. She took them from me. Linette and our unborn baby. I hadn't known. I hadn’t…hadn’t…”
Morkai put a placating hand on the king’s shoulder. “At least your sister is alive.”
“Yes,” Dimetreus said, collecting his composure. “It’s a miracle you managed to escape them. Thanks to Prince Teryn, our new ally.” He raised his cup to Teryn.
Cora caught Teryn’s eye. His expression was bewildered but she could sense that he simmered with a suppressed rage that almost matched her own. Who could he be so angry with? This whole ordeal was his fault. Wasn’t he exactly where he wanted to be?
Teryn raised his glass in return, his gaze sliding to Morkai. “I helped her escape.” It was a question without a question mark.
“Yes,” Morkai said. “You rescued her from Selay, where she’d been held captive for six years.”
Dimetreus nodded along. Cora’s stomach turned.
“Am I the only one who feels like they woke up on the wrong side of reality?” Lex said, setting down his fork with a clatter. “Nothing that any of you have said tonight makes a damn lick of sense.”
Dimetreus furrowed his brow and studied Lex as if seeing him for the first time.
Cora took a deep breath. “He’s right, Dimi, I wasn’t—”
“I wouldn’t try and confuse him,” Morkai said, pinning her with a warning glare. “He gets very upset when he’s confused.”
Dimetreus blinked a few times, then shook his head as if to clear it. He downed another drink of wine and released a dark chuckle. “He’s right. I’ve been having…struggles with my memory as of late. I can’t handle too much information or excitement at once. Which is why His Grace has been such a boon to me these last several years. He might as well be my whipping boy, but you won’t hear him complain.”
Cora’s eyes slid to the duke’s, taking in his smug grin. She remembered what he’d said in the coach after she’d mentioned how loyal he was to her brother.
Or does he serve me in every way?
“I don’t like how grim the mood has become,” Dimetreus said. “This is supposed to be a celebration. A joyous reunion. I’ve missed you dearly, Aveline.” He faced her with a wide grin. There was a sweet quality to his expression that almost made him look like the version of him she remembered. But the closer she examined, the more she saw his facade fraying at the edges. His eyes were glazed over with a shimmer that nearly obscured the brown of his irises. She opened herself to his emotions, sensed a low hum of something…muffled. Suppressed. Confused. She could hardly make out a clear emotion, just a clash of vague impressions.
“I’ve missed you too,” she said over the lump in her throat.
He clapped his hands, the sound far too loud for the quiet room. “I want to see my sister dance.” Cora opened her mouth to protest, but Dimetreus shouted to the harpist, “A waltz.”
“Dimi, please,” she said, heat rising to her cheeks. “I can’t. It’s been too long.”
