‘Well, if you need any help…’
‘Are you actually offering to read these for me, Captain?’
His dark brown eyes widened. ‘Vyrus’s balls, no. But I’m rather happy to offer Skye’s services…or I’m sure I could spare an injured guard or two.’
I laughed, shoving my glasses back up my nose.
‘It’s so good to see a smile on that lovely face of yours,’ he said.
I pulled the glasses down and stared at him, one brow raised as the captain grinned.
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re really going to need some good humour to welcome your visitors.’
A stone slammed into my gut.
‘Visitors?’
‘Your sister.’
Gods. My half-sister. I’d meant to write, but, she was still Romero’s beloved daughter. I furrowed my brow. ‘Enfys? She’s here, but?—’
Asher held up a hand; a grim look flashed through his eyes. ‘And her chaperone.’
‘Not Romero?’ A chill raced down my spine.
‘You’ll be pleased to learn it’s not Romero.’ His expression didn’t fill me with confidence.
I glared at him pointedly.
‘She’s been saddled with Duke Danté.’
The whole castle must have heard my groan.
Francis flustered before me and Matthias as we prepared to enter the state room. I could practically hear my husband’s jaw grinding as Francis’s jowls wobbled. His face took on a solemn expression.
‘Please, Your Highness, try your hardest not to punch Drufaera’s ambassador.’ He straightened the king’s collar. ‘Diplomacy, Your Highness.’
He looked me up and down, before nodding. ‘Diplomacy,’ he said one final time, bowing deeply and standing aside.
Matthias gripped my hand, laid a kiss across my knuckles, before offering his arm.
‘Diplomacy. If anyone’s going to punch him, it’s me,’ I said, squeezing his arm. ‘Anyway, it’s my turn.’
Matthias shook with laughter. ‘I suppose it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.’
The servants, dressed in full livery, opened the gilded doors to the stateroom. I fought the urge to twist my neck, desperate to gawk at the opulence. I’d been so tied to the library, I’d missed half the delights my new home offered. Matthias led the way down a ridiculously long crimson carpet, past a plethora of scarlet and cream loveseats. To our right, lay a wall of leaded windows, flooding the room with early evening light. Glancing to the left, I raised a brow at a range of huge tapestries and paintings. Dragging my gaze to the front, I made out a blur of standing figures.
Pablo prowled by my side, his head low.
‘Eww,’ Matthias whispered through the fake smile he’d plastered on his face. ‘Would you look at that smug grin?’
I bit my lip to halt the smile. ‘Thankfully, I can’t.’
‘Lucky you. Do you think it’d be rude to close my eyes so I don’t have to see him either? He’s making me queasy.’
‘Francis would suggest it’s childish. Though it would be highly entertaining to watch the king crash arse over elbow on those loveseats.’
