I stare at him, open mouthed. “If you had any emotions beyond your instincts, I would.”
Thrace sighs. “Your sister said you’d be difficult.”
I rear back at the offense. “What are you talking about?”
“Kalixta knew if she tried to tell you we’re in love, you’d think it was one-sided. I told her I would persuade you that wasn’t the case. Still, she had her reservations, and now I see why.”
I don’t believe him and I don’t know why it matters. “So why bother telling me at all?”
“We think it’s important that you know.Ithink it’simportant that you know.”
“But why?” I urge.
“Because she’s going to live here, Kaisa. With me. With our children.”
My hand goes to my stomach, my heart plummeting there from my chest. The stringed instruments increase in tempo. “She’s…what?”
“I’m sorry to tell you this now,” he says, face earnest. “I wasn’t sure when we’d have another opportunity to speak.”
“Why wouldn’t she just tell me herself?”
“She didn’t think you would believe her. That it would actually happen.”
I can’t argue with him there, as much as I’d like to. My heart is pounding so hard that I can feel it in my ears. Was this why Kalixta wanted me to run away? Because she was never going to be there for me in the first place? “When is she coming?”
“I’m hoping to retrieve her soon. Things here are…tense.”
I scan the room again, but I don’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Same banquet. Same elites and their quiet, obedient carremai at their side.
“Kaisa,” Alixor says with a chuckle, interrupting my thoughts. “Why do you look as if you’re out on a hunt?”
I bite my tongue and try to control my breathing. “It’s nothing, I only—” I stop short when I hear Selnor scoff.
My body’s coiled too tightly and I can’t stop myself from lashing out. “My sincere apologies, Lord Selnor, but is there something wrong with me performing my duty for our people?”
“Yourduty,” Selnor sneers, “is to provide offspring to our kingdom. That’s what the carremai are for, and it’s a disgrace that you’ve continued to hunt.”
“I’m good at it,” I snap, thrumming with the need to exert my full bite. Alixor opens his mouth as if he’s about to interject, but his father is quicker.
“Let’s hope you’re good for more than that and that your mouth serves you better in the bedroom than it doeshere.”
I burn with the need to leap from my chair, sprint across the table, and tear his head from his neck. My anger is becoming unbridled. It’s so close and visceral I don’t know if I can hold it inside any longer—I don’t know how I’m going to get through the rest of—
“Leave.” The command is low and dangerous, but resounds through the room. Conversation halts and the string instruments fall silent. For a moment, I’m not sure to whom the Sar Dyeus spoke, but Selnor slowly turns his ire from me, to the dragon king.
“Zhoric,” Selnor hisses, using the king’s true name, a warning in his tone. Alixor presses a hand on my thigh, staying me. I didn’t even realize I’d started to rise, and lower back down into my seat.
“Do not make me repeat myself,” the Sar Dyeus says, his focus solely on his meal.
Selnor’s face twists into a silent snarl, but after a moment he rises from the table and leaves the room. Silence permeates, cloying and uncomfortable. The Sar Dyeus offers no further words or explanation. As soon as he moves to pick up his glass, the musicians resume their playing.
After another two courses of food are served, a male attendant comes to the Sar Dyeus’s side and whispers something into his ear. His eyes rise from his meal to scan the sky outside. When the messenger backs away, the Sar Dyeus rises, and we all stop what we’re doing and rise with him.
“A matter needs my attention. The banquet is over.”
“Your Highness, you’ve yet to give your blessing,” Alixor says. Traditionally, the Sar Dyeus closes these ceremonies and sends the couple to their mating room, but that doesn’t appear to be happening.
“We will attempt this again tomorrow.”
