She gestured to her waist.
There, mounted on a wide strip of Pixie-cloth, was Magda’s ghast blade.
Magda drew inward, refusing to react. The Rae in her, though, raged. Lavana wore it as a trophy, as if she hadn’t been bested that day in Ouda’s hollow. And it reflected poorly on Magda. To lose her blade to a rival, whatever the circumstance…
“How is your hand?” she asked.
Lavana’s eyes narrowed, though her mouth remained fixed in a smile. “Never better.”
“Oh, good,” she said. “And our mutual friend, have you seen him lately?”
Lavana’s head tilted. “Which friend are you referring to? The one who passed away? I’ve heard tales of his death, poisoned by a manticore? That must’ve been quite painful. How tragic.” Her gaze skated over to Kaelan. “You do have an incredible knack for uncovering Princes. I admit, I had to acquire some rare magic to find Kaelan and what a disappointment he turned out to be.”
Magda could feel Kaelan tense, but fortunately, he kept his mouth shut.
“So good to see that you are in fact, alive, Caden,” Lavana went on silkenly, “after all of these years.”
He crossed his arms. “I’m sorry. Have we met before?”
Lavana’s lips puckered. “More than once.”
“Oh, yes, when?”
“You don’t recall?” she asked as though she were about to pounce on him.
“Wait a moment,” he said, plucking at his nose. “Were you that squalling brat at Margot’s wedding reception? Didn’t a brownie have to subdue you with a sleeping draught because you wouldn’t stop screaming after you had spilled soup on your dress? That was you, wasn’t it?”
Lavana’s nostrils flared. Crimson dashes marked her cheeks like she’d been slapped.
“And you, Riker?” Magda strained to put on her forlorn lover’s façade. But how could she when panic was bashing about in her chest like a bat caught in a box? The Enneahedron was gone. If she didn’t get it back... she was so screwed. “How are you?”
“He’s fine,” Lavana cut in. “I prefer that you didn’t speak to him.”
Riker, already well-trained, pressed his lips together, eyes darting worriedly between her and Lavana.
“Why not? He’s claimed, isn’t he?” she said. “You can’t be worried I might steal him away from you?”
“I’m not worried,” Lavana said.
“Well, I would be,” she said. “If you were the one who had the Princeandthe Enneahedron, I admit, I might not even vie at all.”
A split second of strain tightened Lavana’s face—anxiety—but was gone almost as soon as it had come.
Lavanawasworried. But if she’d taken the Enneahedron, she wouldn’t have any reason to be.
“But of course,” Magda added quickly, “you’ve already declared your intent to vie. And to retract now... better to go into exile than bear that shame. Lovely to see the both of you.”
She gave Riker one last look, hoping it appeared longing, though she struggled to pretend that she felt anything but pity and guilt. Riker’s face twisted in apparent doubt. Lavana’s darkened with rage as she swept around and stalked back into the crowd. Riker gave Magda a tight smile and followed after Lavana.
Kaelan closed in, his hand on her neck, mouth against her face as though he were going to kiss her. “She doesn’t have it.”
“I know,” she whispered, scanning the crowd. “But who does?”
His breath skimmed over the thin skin behind her ear, lips grazing. A warm prickle trailed down her spine. She placed her hand to his chest to push him away, but he caught her hand and her waist, branding her neck with a searing kiss that left her breathless. Heat flooded her chest. He certainly knew how to play the part of the earnest lover.
His mouth moved against her ear. “Riker looked as though he had something he wanted to say to you.”
She pushed through the tingling haze he’d cast over her. “I doubt he knows anything.”
