The king chuckles. “You’ll have to grow accustomed to such attention, my son. Royal blood draws many eager eyes.”
Farvis doesn’t laugh. He wipes his mouth with the edge of his napkin and turns toward Silas. “Your Majesty, if I may—there’s word spreading through the merchant routes. Whispers of the tsar’s beasts crossing more borders than we realized. If the carnoraxis reach Podrosa, or gods forbid, Bastos, the alliance will fracture. The nobility there already mistrusts Hederan steel.”
Silas waves his hand lazily. “Then we remind them that Hederan gold speaks louder than fear.”
Farvis frowns but says nothing more.
Beside me at the table, Nadya’s already locked eyes with the barkeep. He’s behind the counter, pretending to wipe mugs with a cloth that’s clearly just for show. His gaze is fixed on her, and when he nods once, slow and deliberate, I know something’s coming.
Sure enough, one of the waitresses delivers a drink with a sprig of mint tucked in and a tiny, blue flower balanced on the rim. “Compliments of the bar,” she says, then she glances quickly at Nadya and scurries off.
Nadya grins. “Well. It’s not quite a royal ball, but I do love local charm.”
I shake my head at her, but it’s hard to hide my amusement.
I lift my fork and eat, but the warmth in my chest has little to do with the food and everything to do with the pair of storm-grey eyes that meet mine when no one else is looking.
Another waitress arrives with a tray of glazed duck. She lingers a little too long when she sets Dante’s plate down, her fingers grazing his bicep. “Do let me know if you require anything else,” she murmurs, looking at him through her lashes. “Our cook goes easy on the salt, but don’t hesitate to ask if you need something with more spice.”
If she doesn’t get her hands off him, I’m going to find the nearest salt dispenser and shove it up her—
“Thank you,” he answers flatly.
I keep my gaze fixed on my cup. Pretending not to notice. Pretending it doesn’t matter. But my fingers tighten around the stem of the goblet just the same.
Across from me, Dante catches my eye. And his lip fucking twitches. Like he’s amused. Like he can sense my jealousy and it’s fucking pleasing him.
But there’s something else. A look in his eyes that reminds me of the night we spent together. My body warms.
That’s right.
He doesn’t need some desperate waitress to get his fill of spice. He’s got me.
I hide my smirk in my cup and avert my eyes.
Farvis speaks again, turning his attention now to Ezra. “Would it be possible to predict the tsar’s next move? Through maps or magic? Anything?”
Ezra lifts a brow, sipping from his cup before answering. “Magic rarely lends itself to straightforward strategy. But pattern, movement—those are things we can observe. If the beasts behave with any consistency, we may be able to anticipate the next strike.”
“Then this tour must accomplish more than handshakes and gift-giving,” Farvis mutters.
“Oh, we’ll offer more than that,” King Silas says, lifting his own goblet in a mock toast. “We’ll remind them of Hedera’s wealth, as well as its strength. After all, we’ve got Delasurvia’s regiment, the most skilled in Terre Ferique. Knowing that, no ruler will wish to stand on the wrong side of a war.”
Of course he would use his guardianship over me to claim an army that isn’t his. But it’s all part of his plan to strengthen Hedera. Aside from needing me to secure an heir, the king needs my regiment. And those are the only reasons he hasn’t sent me away. He could easily find another noblewoman to procreate with his son, but my soldiers are unmatchedin skill, and he knows it.
Another platter of steamed greens and herb-roasted duck is set down, and I glance toward the fire. Its light plays against the flagstone floor, throwing dancing shapes along the walls like ghosts circling the room. As the conversation continues, the waitresses circle time and time again to refill our cups—especially Dante’s. The voices blend in my head, and I find myself wishing I could shut them out.
After dinner, Nadya and I go back to our room and spend over an hour holding our stomachs and not moving. It’s good to fill our bellies with warm food, but we may have overdone it.
After another hour, I’m feeling back to normal, and Nadya must be too because she’s changing into one of the dresses she usually wears when she she’s planning to see a lover.
“Don’t tell me you’re meeting up with that barkeep.”
Nadya grins. “Okay. I won’t tell you.”
“He won you over with that drink, didn’t he?”
“He had me the minute his eyes sparkled. No dressed-up drink necessary. Though the little cornflower was a sweet touch, don’t you think?”
