Her stomach churned, rippling with the same nausea she’d felt earlier when she’d lusted over the wine. Seven gods, she was ravenous. She supposed it made sense after all her hard work.
That left her only one answer she could give. “Fine.”
By the timethey reached the little courtyard, the plates had already been filled with food, and a small round cake rested upon a tray at the center of the table. Noise still carried from the kitchen, but with most of the staff busy in the dining hall, it was somewhat less chaotic. Still, Teryn didn’t hesitate to close the shutters over the kitchen window and seal the door leading to the courtyard. It cut off even more of the noise, leaving them some semblance of peace.
Teryn lowered himself into one of the seats, his posture casual as he sank into the chair. He seemed…tired. Fatigued. As if he’d been the one slaving away over table decorations the last couple of hours.
Mareleau resisted the urge to sneer at his lax composure and dragged her chair far from his. When they were on opposite ends of the table, she took her seat. She leaned toward the glorious display of lemon chiffon, only to pause with her hand an inch away from the serving knife. Teryn had insisted that his dinner with the princess be unattended by servants, and while she’d found the notion crass then, it was even more so now. She’d never had to slice her own cake before…
Teryn released a soft chuckle and took the knife from under her hand. Then, with deft movements, he sliced the cake with two flicks of the blade and placed the piece on her plate.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, taking up her fork. She was about to take a dainty bite as befitting a queen, when she decided—to hell with it—since no one of import was watching, she might as well shove the largest forkful she could fit. One with equal parts frosting and cake.
She closed her eyes as the sweet lemon flavor melted over her tongue. It made her want to dance in her seat. Were she a younger girl, she would have. She was far too reserved for that now.
The sound of pouring liquid made her open her eyes. Teryn filled his glass with wine, then did the same for hers. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of the ruby liquid before her. It took all her strength of will to force her eyes away so she could burn Teryn with a glare. “I can’t have that.”
He arched a brow. “Why not?”
“You damn well know why not.”
He shrugged, taking a long pull from his glass. “Gods, it’s been too long since I’ve tasted wine. Why can’t you have any?”
She glanced around, but she already knew they weren’t being watched. “The baby,” she whispered.
“Ah. Right. You’re pregnant with my brother’s child.”
“Why do you keep acting like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like…like you’ve forgotten things.”
He leaned farther back in his chair and tipped his face toward the sky. “It’s been a long day. A day that has felt more like months. So forgive me if I’m beyond caring whether you imbibe.”
She studied him, studied his too-relaxed posture, his loose limbs. Maybe courting Aveline had done a number on his brain. Or was it more that…
Her pulse racketed as realization dawned.
“Did Larylis tell you? Is that why you’re being so lax about this?”
“Tell me what?”
“About…my lie.”
He swirled his glass and watched her over the rim of his cup. “He tells me many things. He’s my brother.”
She felt suddenly small. Abashed. While she couldn’t blame Larylis for wanting to relieve some of the guilt he carried, she hated that he hadn’t warned her in advance that he’d be telling Teryn the truth. “So you know I’m not truly with child.”
An amused grin lifted his lips. “I do now. What an entertaining twist.”
Heat seared her blood and crawled up her cheeks. “Did you just…trick me into confessing?—”
“Seven devils, Majesty,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Drink. Enjoy yourself. Or don’t. I care not about whatever lies you’ve had to tell to get what you want.”
She was flustered beyond belief, unsure whether Teryn had been teasing her or if he still was. Either way, it didn’t seem like he was at all concerned about reporting her actions to her parents.
“Fine,” she said, snatching the glass from the table and bringing it to her lips. She swallowed half the glass in a single gulp, then drained the rest between bites of cake. While she knew she should savor the wine’s taste—it was a lovely vintage, after all—she couldn’t help but fear it would be taken away at any moment. If one servant exited the door, if one of her lady’s maids came looking for her, she’d have to return to her ruse.
