Pedro gestures to a small pin at his collar—a deep-red garnet nestled in a gold setting. “These stones come from my family’s valley. We mine them by hand. They’re stubborn to shape, but when they catch the sun just right, they burn like fire. I believe they’d suit you.”
“Me?” Nadya blinks, clearly caught off guard.
“You,” he says with a slow smile. “Your coloring, your energy… garnet would adore you. If I may, I’d like to have a pair of earrings made in your honor.”
Nadya blinks again, then glances at me with what I can only perceive as alarmed delight. “Oh. That’s very… generous.”
“Not generosity,” Pedro says smoothly, “just appreciation. Some beauty deserves to have some light cast upon it.”
Nadya sputters something in response—I can’t quite make it out over the clatter of silver and the rise of music—but I’m already grinning behind my goblet.
Across the table, Dante arches one brow at me, and I can see he’s biting back a laugh.
I sense a shift of movement, and everyone’s heads seem to turn. Following their gazes, I find six people of various ages entering, each of them finding places to sit. Two of them, a man who is the spitting image of King Gallor and a woman with bright-red hair and freckled skin, come to our table and take the empty seats near us.
Lord Pedro nods his head at the woman. “Princess Rosemary.” He then nods to the man. “Prince Lief. How wonderful of you to join us.”
“Lord Pedro, I wanted to thank you for the lovely garnet-encrusted mirror,” Princess Rosemary says. “It was a delightful gift.” She then shifts her gaze to Dante. “You must be Lord Stregasi.”
Dante inclines his head. “Princess Rosemary, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
One of my lessons with Ezra comes back to me, sparking the memory of learning that the triarchs have six children. The two who joined us at our table are obviously the oldest two of the six, with Princess Rosemary appearing to be around my age.
“I’m glad to see the new royal prospect is a virile man,” Princess Rosemary says, scrutinizing him thoroughly. “Fertility is important to the people of Mersos.”
Dante nearly chokes on his drink but recovers with a graceful nod. “Yes, I’ve heard.”
The first course arrives, and even after everything we’ve seen so far, I can’t help but marvel. Silver trays gleam under the torchlight—freshly grilled swordfish drizzled with lemon and herbs, soft cheeses wrapped in fig leaves, roasted pheasant glazed with spiced honey. There are bowls of sugared plums and spiced nuts, and an entire roast lamb with fragrant rosemary still adorning the skin. Everything is local, everything is of the highest quality.
The conversation is civil at first. Safe. The triarchs ask polite questions about the journey and the Hederan court. But I see where it’s leading. Dante is the prize curiosity of the evening, and they intend to weigh his worth.
Gallor leans forward, his hands folded neatly on the table. “Lord Stregasi,” he says, his voice smooth but probing, “it must be quite the adjustment, stepping from the shadows into the light. How does it feel to bear the weight of a kingdom’s future on your shoulders?”
Dante’s smile is easy enough to fool those who don’t know him. “I’m fortunate to have my father’s guidance to ensure I meet the kingdom’s expectations.”
Shaylin tilts her head slightly. “A wise sentiment. We value stability in Mersos—especially in those who hold the power to shape trade agreements.” Her words are pleasant enough, but there’s no mistaking the message beneath them: play by our rules or the flow of goods stops.
Dante meets her gaze, but I catch the flicker of strain beneath the polished façade. He hates this, being treated like a commodity to be measured and controlled. And even as proud as I am of how he holds himself, my stomach twists at the thought of them dissecting his every word and gesture.
“Of course,” Birchus adds, his tone just a shade too casual, “it’s no secret that Hedera relies heavily on our exports. I assume you share your father’s commitment to ensuring that arrangement remains as… mutually beneficial as it’s always been? I understand that you are part siren, which is something we will need to take into consideration. If you were to use your powers in a way that would manipulate any contracts we have in place, it would destroy more than just our alliance.”
The pressure they’re putting on him is subtle but relentless. My fingers curl into my lap beneath the table, the warmth of the evening suddenly stifling. I know Dante won’t falter, but I also feel like they’re ambushing him.
I set my goblet down softly, drawing their attention as I speak. “Lord Stregasi is a man of his word,” I say, my voice clear and steady. “Siren or not, he is loyal, not only to the integrity of Hedera, but also to the union King Silas has procured with Delasurvia. I’ve never met anyone more trustworthy than him.”
Silence falls over the table. For a breath, no one speaks. Least of all the king, whose rigid posture suggests I’ve overstepped. But I don’t care. Let them be shocked. Let them hear the truth.
King Gallor’s eyes narrow slightly as he studies me, but Queen Shaylin only smiles with a slow, assessing curve of her lips. “It seems your future prince has a fierce defender,” she says, lifting her goblet. “A crucial thing, loyalty. We admire it here.”
King Silas clears his throat, the sound crisp and cutting. His expression is unreadable, but I can feel his disapproval from across thetable. I’ve spoken out of turn—and perhaps given too much of myself away.
Dante’s eyes find mine again, gratitude flickering behind the quiet storm there. But beneath it is something deeper—something only I can see. My words have touched him, my declaration of my trust in him reaching his heart.
I tear my gaze away, forcing my attention back to my plate. I’m supposed to be in mourning. I’m supposed to be a shadow at these gatherings. But for him, I’d speak a thousand truths, no matter who’s listening.
ChApter
Thirty-Seven
