Fuck. Gerard looked away. “I’m not,” he lied.
“I’m not sure why you like him,” Senta said, clearly not willing to engage in his obvious lie. “Of course, he is pretty. Ridiculously so. But what else has he to offer? I’d call him a bloody coward, except I don’t think he comprehends that one should be terrified of war.”
She sneered at Prince Elias. “He just doesn’t like scratchy robes.” She gave Gerard a once-over. “He’s not the type I’d imagined you’d be interested in. I thought you’d want someone with substance. Someone competent and strong.”
“I’m not interested in him. Not really,” Gerard said. “Anyway, he’s far too pretty for me.”
Senta bared her teeth. “Don’t speak like that! Anyone would be lucky to have you. You deserve more than anyone.” She gripped his arm with fingers like iron. “You certainly deserve better than a silly little weakling. No matter how attractive he is.”
Gerard looked away. He didn’t want to argue with her about what he did or did not deserve. “Well, you don’t need to worry. Like I said, I’m not interested in him.”
But his sister was right; he really should not be attracted to Prince Elias. After all, it was one thing to not be strong enough to fight in the war. It rankled to hear Prince Elias flaunt his weakness and his ability to shirk his duties.
“And it doesn’t matter what I think about anyone.” His lips tugged as he gave his sister a half-smile. “It’s not like you or I get any say in who we marry.”
Chapter
Nine
Prince Luther and Warden Onyx sat at a table placed at the front of the banquet hall. It was their wedding feast, and Prince Luther angled his body away from the warden. They both ate as if pretending that their new husband was not sitting beside them.
Watching the unhappy couple, Elias leaned back in his chair. He sat at the table designated for the royal family of Zephyrias and Voltaria.
The previous day, Elias had seen Warden Onyx drag Prince Luther behind some bushes. He clearly had had his way with him. But today they ignored each other. Elias had no idea what was going on between them. Thankfully, that was none of his concern.
He sipped his wine. The banquet hall was filled with tables seating those from the different kingdoms as well as the Monks of the Way of the Dove. Once again, Elias found his gaze pulled towards Prince Gerard, who sat amongst his family.
Princess Senta spoke to him. He nodded, face blank and serious.
Does he ever smile? Laugh?
If Prince Gerard did, Elias had not seen a hint of it, and he had been studying the dragon warrior a great deal.
What is he like? Is he as serious as he looks?
They’d met almost a month ago, and so often, Elias found his thoughts consumed by the man. He wanted to get closer. Wanted to speak to him. Study him. He wanted to get to know the man who’d survived Elias’s attack.
And the man who’d almost ended Elias’s life. His pulse quickened at the thought.
Sometimes he imagined showing Prince Gerard his scarred left leg. He wanted to say, “You did this to me.” Not in an accusatory way, but to reveal the odd bond they had. A bond created by war. And survival. Their lives were entwined. But only Elias knew it.
Of course, he’d never reveal the truth to Prince Gerard. That would require revealing his identity. And he had taken a vow to never do that. Only a handful of lightning archmages knew who he actually was.
Still, he liked to fantasise about telling Prince Gerard. He wondered how the dragon warrior would respond. Perhaps they could reminisce about the day they’d almost killed the other. He swallowed a laugh.
I’m being ridiculous. Who relishes being almost killed by someone? Apparently, me.
He’d had other fantasies too. But they’d involved less clothing and revealing more of their bodies. He licked his lips, gut tightening. He took another sip of wine. He’d tried a few times to get closer to the big, silent man, but he’d had little success.
It was as if Prince Gerard wished to keep distance between them. But why?
“Elias,” Colette whispered. “How do you eat these things?”
He turned to his cousin. Colette poked her fork at a black shell with large, thin spikes.
“That’s a sea urchin. You don’t eat the shell. It’s already been opened for you.” He pointed at the squishy orange parts that could be accessed through the opening in the top. “You just eat the inside.”
Her eyebrows pinched together, and her nose wrinkled. “Okay,” she said, not sounding particularly certain. Slowly, she scooped out the centre and chewed. Her face scrunched up, and Elias tried not to laugh.
