I stepped around the screen with a grimace, and she laughed.
“I'm not upset,” Savassa assured me. “I want you to know that you have my blessing.”
“Even after all of those deaths?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, that reminds me of why I was waiting to speak to you.” She looked back at Verin. “They found Meilen's body. Poisoned, it appears. We're assuming it was Scylla's venom.”
I met Verin's gaze. I wasn't surprised but I still felt bad for the woman. Meilen had been having a hard time of it from the moment I arrived and her bad luck had culminated in her death.
“I also had dinner brought to your private dining room for us.” Savassa brushed a hand over her son's cheek as she stood, then glided out of the bedroom, the rectangular panels of her gown trailing behind her.
“I'm sorry,” Verin said softly to me as I joined him. “I know she can be...”
“Wonderful?” I asked with a grin. “She's giving us her blessing, Verin. That's a good thing. Far better than having her against us.”
“Andshealso has excellent hearing,” Savassa called back to us. “Come along, children, I'm starving and I imagine that you two are as well after all of your exertions.”
Verin leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling as if seeking patience. Or a way out.
I chuckled and took his hand. “She's right, I'm starving too.”
He went alert instantly and hurried me out of the room as he admonished me, “You should have said something. No, this is my fault. I should have fed you first.”
“I'm a grown woman, not a baby bird,” I teased. “I can handle someexertionson an empty stomach.”
Verin grunted and grimaced.
“Did you really smile when you told her about me?” I asked softly.
Verin frowned. “I honestly don't remember.”
“Yes, he did,” Savassa called out again.
Verin sighed. “I guess I did.”
“I defended you to my mother,” I admitted.
“Your mother doesn't like me? I've never even met her.”
“Your mother doesn't like my son?” Savassa growled.
We had finally reached Verin's dining room—a surprisingly bright room with pale yellow walls and a mahogany dining set carved with—you guessed it—dragons. Tall vases stood in the corners, too grand to put flowers in, and a sedate chandelier of teardrop pendants hung over the table.
“No, it's not like that,” I protested. “And you're right, you haven't met but she saw you in the Zone when everyone came to help rebuild. I believe she called you a dashing but brooding blue-haired brute.”
Verin grunted as if it were a fair assessment.
“You're not a brute,” his mother and I said simultaneously.
Verin shrugged and pulled out a chair for me, perfectly content with my mother's judgment.
“Anyway”—I rolled my eyes as I sat down—“I defended you and she looked at me...” I trailed off as I remembered how my mother had looked at me—with sympathy. Then Banning had asked if I was in love with Verin. I swallowed past a sudden dryness in my throat. I hadn't loved Verin then; I had loved Banning. And Torin. And...
“Elaria?” Verin asked in concern.
I blinked. “Sorry. I... what was I saying?”
“You were talking about the way your mother looked at you when you defended my son from her unfair assessment.” Savassa narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you feeling all right, Elaria?”
