I scrub it between my hands until a lather forms and smear it over my cheeks. “Fine. I’ll get the treaty issue sorted tonight. Then tomorrow, I’ll get even more information out of our host.” Another splash or two and I reach for a linen, drying myself before I face Alexus. “But remember. Seduction ismygame. If we want answers, I might as well use the prince’s interest in me to our advantage. If he’s as curious as I think he is, he’ll take care of the Brotherhood. It’s a game I can’t lose.”
“So long as you don’t forget that it’s just that,” he replies. “A game. It’s temporary, Colden. It’s nothing real.”
Again, I know he’s right, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Nothing iseverreal. Evermine.Nothing iseverlastingwhen you’re immortal,save for this difficult existence.
Alexus leaves to tend to his own appearance while I finish washing and dressing. Wearing the royal blue tunic, replete with silver stitching, I stare into the gilded mirror above the vanity table and comb my hair, smoothing the soft waves.
Perhaps I’m doomed to spend eternity as someone who only ever enjoys the exhilaration and romantic notions surrounding love rather than true love itself. Perhaps I’m simply incapable of devotion like that. Flirting and teasing and the excitement of a new partner and good sex might be all I’m destined to know, and maybe I understand that deep down, which is why I’ve learned to enjoy all of these things to the maximum effect. I’ve learned to find happiness where I can. To chase it. And today, happiness lies with the Prince of the East.
Temporarily. Just like Alexus said.
Dinner ismuch like I imagined, save for a few things.
One, Alexus was right. There are three men dining with us that weren’t present when we arrived, and though they’re not donned in official garb, the look on my friend’s face tells me all I need to know.
They’re members of the Brotherhood.
Second, there’s no talk of the treaty, and no time to slip in the mention. The Brotherhood controls the conversation with the most mundane discussions, much to my annoyance. Alexus and I share several glances, all of which say:Tonight is not the night.
And third, the prince seems to have lost all appetite. He picks at his food like a child ordered to be polite, a child who would rather do anything other than eat the meal before him. It makes me wary to eat it myself, but the other men don’t hold back on serving heaps of meat and roasted vegetables onto their plates. We also pour our wine from the same flagons, so poisoning doesn’t seem to be a fear I should worry about.
When dinner ends, Alexus bravely occupies the members of the Brotherhood, pretending to be fascinated by their ages-long sect. If anyone understands all there is to know about them, it’s him.
Wine glasses in hand, they exit the dining hall and head for the smoking parlor, while the prince and I stand awkwardly in the main hall.
“Might I interest you in a stroll through the gardens?” he says. “The night is lovely.”
I raise my wine glass. “Sounds perfect.”
Alight with lanterns, the gardens are immense, a vast stretch of gravel pathways, fountains, statues, trees, and flowering shrubs. Together, we walk leisurely through the balmy night, under the stars.
The prince slips his hands into his trouser pockets. “These gardens were designed by Queen Iberta, some six hundred years ago. She named the palace after her only daughter.”
“Fascinating. Queen Iberta was King Theron’s only heir, yes?”
He turns a sparkling look at me, a small, surprised smile. “You know Eastland history?”
I shrug, feigning innocence, though I see a way into a conversation we need to have. “I know a little. The whole royalty bit has always interested me. You see, I might carry the title, but I’m no king. It certainly isn’t in my bloodline. My parents were poor sailors who lived in the Western Drifts. Also, Winterhold is a lovely place, but it can’t rival this.”
“It isn’t the blood in your veins or the luxury around you that makes one a leader, though,” he replies. “Guiding a kingdom is a duty, one I think you’re honoring quite well.”
We stop near a massive fountain, and I meet his eyes. “What makes you say that?”
“You’ve led the North for nearly three hundred years and protected your people. Not to mention you’re here, aren’t you? To see to it they remain protected?” He rakes his hand through his hair. “Listen, I’m aware we need to discuss the treaty King Regner held with you, and I plan to sign my name to it tomorrow. I won’t do anything but uphold his wishes, so you needn’t worry. The North hasn’t been part of the Land Wars in quite some time. There’s no reason that should change now.”
Hearing those words brings relief, sort of, but…
“Does that mean the Land Wars will continue?” I ask. “Or is the East finally finished with Thamaos’s ridiculous plot to claim the Summerlands? He’s been dead for as long as I’ve ruled the North. Perhaps you’re the man who will end the madness that has forever infested his kings and queens?”
His eyes soften, those dark brows turning up in the middle. “Forgive me, but I cannot speak of my kingdom’s political endeavors with you, Colden. I’ve been a prince for all of six months. I’m still learning so much, but one thing I know for certain is that I cannot share privileged information with the King of the Northland Break, treaty or no treaty. Please understand.”
“Fair enough.” I wave it off, pretending to be more uninterested than I really am, and sip my wine, glancing back at the palace. “You know, you and I have a lot in common, I think.”
“How so?” He motions for us to continue our walk, and we head toward the rose garden, our boots crunching against gravel.
“Well, as I said before, I have no royal lineage, no blood right to lead the North. And you have no royal lineage either, correct?”
He offers a sidelong glance and a smirk that says he knows I’m fishing for information. “None.”
