He rounded the next corner and almost collided with a figure coming his way. A feminine yelp had him leaping back a step, but it was followed by a familiar aggrieved tone.
“Ugh. You.” Mareleau’s lip curled at the sight of him.
Teryn returned her sentiment with a flat look. “Ugh. Likewise.” He offered a shallow bow and stepped aside for her to pass. She started to sweep by but faced him with a roll of her eyes.
“I suppose you found her then, with no trouble from my uncles?” Her tone suggested she couldn’t care less, but if that were the case, she could have said nothing at all.
“I did.” He’d meant to keep his expression stony, but admitting he’d found Cora filled his mind with the memory of her lips.
Mareleau’s eyes went wide. “Seven devils, I know that look.”
His cheeks flushed. “What look?”
Her expression softened the slightest bit. “Larylis gets the same one sometimes.”
“And?”
She popped a hip to the side with a huff, as if their continued conversation were becoming more and more offensive to her by the second. Finally, she deigned to answer him, her face impassive while her voice held a note of genuine curiosity. “You like her, don’t you? The princess.”
He gave her a pointed look. “Did you think I was going through all this trouble to see her because I barely tolerated her?”
She shrugged. “I assumed you were tasked with formalizing a betrothal to her now that Larylis was no longer an option. But just because you were assigned as her groom didn’t mean you had to like it.”
He gave her a humorless grin. “We’d both know a thing or two about that situation, wouldn’t we? Regardless of politics, I do like her. She’s part of the reason I was so set against marrying you. That and your revolting personality, of course.”
She scoffed, but she seemed to take his insult in stride. “I’d be offended were I not so completely and utterly grateful for your dislike of me. I suppose we’re even then? You have your beloved and I have mine.”
He gave an exaggerated wince. “Not quite. You see, you and Larylis are already married, while Cora and I must wait a year. So how about we call it even on my wedding night? In the meantime, you can work off your debt to me by directing me toward the keep.”
She crossed her arms. “I’m your queen, not your servant. Besides, I’m going to the kitchen.”
The kitchen. That was on his list of places to visit too. He’d asked Cora to dine with him, but he hoped he could arrange something a little better than a public meal in the dining hall. Something to make up for everything Cora had missed when she’d refused to meet him in the garden at Verlot. He may not have access to a harpist or an elegant candlelit alcove, but he could do something to show her the efforts she hadn’t gotten to see.
“You know where the kitchen is?” he asked.
“No, of course I don’t. But I’m determined to find it, if only to prove to my maids just how incompetent they are. They’ve assured me there’s no chocolate in this castle. Can you imagine? There has to be chocolate. At least chocolate cake.”
Teryn resisted the urge to bark a laugh. Of course the pampered Mareleau wouldn’t realize just what a luxury chocolate was in some places. However, he recalled seeing a chocolatier’s shop in one of the cities he’d traveled through on his way here. He’d stopped before the window and considered going inside to buy a peace offering for Cora. Before he could act on it, he’d talked himself out of the idea, reminding himself that Cora might send him packing before he even got the chance to offer gifts.
Oh, how wrong he’d been…
He shook his head before memories of a kiss beneath a tree—of Cora’s body against that tree—could render him brainless.
“How about this,” he said. “I’ll place an order for chocolate if you do me a favor tonight.”
She threw back her head with a groan. “For the love of the seven gods, not again.”
“It’s a small favor,” Teryn rushed to say. “I need to talk to the royal chef. If all goes well, I’ll simply need your help procuring a spare table and maybe some candles. Perhaps a nice cloth. And, if you’re feeling generous, you can locate somewhere Cora and I might dine undisturbed tonight too.”
“Oh, that’s all,” she muttered with sarcasm. “Why do you call her Cora, anyway? And why can’t you do any of this yourself?”
He ignored the first question, but it served as a reminder to call Cora by her royal name in front of others. To address her second question, he said, “I still have an audience with King Dimetreus to attend once he returns from his hunt, and I’m not entirely convinced your uncles won’t thwart my efforts to enjoy myself while I’m here. They are your father’s brothers, after all.”
She nodded as if to admitfair enough.
“If you do it,” he said, “you can tell your uncles it’s for the sake of teaching the princess proper dinner etiquette. They’ll believe that.”
She narrowed her eyes and tapped her foot rapidly against the flagstones. Finally, she blew out a long breath and said, “You’re lucky I’m bored.”
