Matthias lowered his head so close I felt his smile against the nape of my neck. ‘I’ll keep them open then. I’ve got some rather interesting plans for how we can use those loveseats and none will be possible with a broken leg.’
‘Sorrow!’ Enfys bounded towards me, sparing me from the blush rising up my throat as she hauled me in to a tight embrace. I swallowed down all I should say, plastering a smile on my face. Joy glittered in her blue eyes. We’d let the years create more than distance between us, and part of me regretted the time apart from her. There was so much we should talk about. So much we should face…
She let go, and my heart stuttered. This close, her resemblance to Mama was terrifying. Did she still recall how Mama tore at her eyes? Did she wake in the night screaming as she had that day? How could I ever ask? She’d been so young, and the blood…I looked away. Did I truly want to know if she still bore the scars of my failure to control the cursed gift?
She threw herself into the arms of my husband, and he gripped her tightly. A frigid vice grasped my heart and, for a moment, I was leaning against a window, sobbing silently as I watched my best friend lay a kiss on my half-sister’s head. I still hadn’t had the guts to confront him about why he’d not once bothered with me following the accident. His words though, how marrying Enfys would be like marrying Skye. He’d had no plans to marry her, yet still a flicker of mistrust burned in my heart. I blew out a long breath as their hug ended. Matthias glanced at me. The smile, the one that tore me apart, lit up his face. The smile he saved for me. Not Enfys.
A pathetically weak cough swiped away those smiles, and we turned to Danté, a wine glass already in his hand, smirking widely by the white marble fireplace.
I placed my hand on Matthias’s taut bicep, giving him a little squeeze, a reminder not to send the smug git back on his arse.
‘Well, Asmar.’ He took a long sip, his damn thick lips smacking together. ‘Looks like I’m back after all. Did you miss me?’
‘I could say we’ve missed you, but it’d be a downright lie. And apparently Romero has trust issues.’ Matthias swiped a glass of red wine from a servant, thanked him and turned to Enfys, offering her a glass.
She shook her head, her golden ringlets swinging, and my heart lurched at how like Mama the movement was.
‘Thank you, Matthias, but I don’t drink,’ she said, clutching her pendant.
Matthias knocked it back. ‘Never mind, more for me.’
He beckoned another servant, who glided over and, after placing his empty glass on the silver tray, replaced it with two new ones.
‘Thank you, dear,’ I said, taking one from him. This close, his lips were a tight, thin line. I turned to Enfys who sipped water, glancing between me and Matthias.
‘This is a wonderful surprise,’ I said, shocked at how true the words were. ‘We had no idea you were visiting.’
‘I’m merely passing through.’ She shot Danté a dark look. ‘Father insisted the duke act as my chaperone, despite how much I protested.’
‘But unlike you, Asmar, King Romero has nothing but respect for me.’ There was the damned slap of his lips again, and I didn’t know if it was that or the thought of Danté sitting in a carriage with my little sister for countless miles that sent a shudder ofdisgust through me. ‘He may not agree with the princess, but he wouldn’t trust his only daughter with anyone else.’
The duke’s taunt failed to find the mark he sought as I turned to Enfys, scouring her face.
‘Why? Why doesn’t he agree with you?’
Her fingers rubbed the worn silver tree as she looked between us. Her mouth opened.
‘Silly woman wants to become a novice,’ Danté interrupted. ‘Damn sad loss of a fine female if you ask me.’
‘You’re in luck. No one asked you.’ I grabbed Enfys’s soft hands and tugged her closer to better see her expression, ignoring Danté’s snort.
‘A Sister of Evella?’
Enfys nodded. Something behind her eyes seemed to cry out to me to understand, and I wished someone would drag Danté away so I could talk to her. Had that day in the morgue tortured her so badly she sought out Evella’s blessing by becoming a Sister?
‘What about your throne?’ Matthias asked gently. ‘You’re the heir.’
‘We have Oskar too.’
My heart constricted at the grating sound of the boy’s name. The babe whose birth took Mama away. He’d only been a chubby toddler with golden curls when I’d eventually left. I’d had so little to do with him. Although we were tied by blood, I could never find a thread to link me to the child.
‘Father believes the crown will be stronger with a male on the throne.’
Matthias snorted, and I glared at him as he grabbed another glass of wine.
‘But Drufaera is yours, Enfys. You can’t let him strip you of your birthright because you’re female.’
‘He’s been presenting me with suitors.’ Enfys glanced at Danté, who grunted as Skye and Ifan approached. ‘I’ve heard the rumours, but you were lucky, Sorrow. You’ve got Matthias. I-I’m passionate about helping those less fortunate.’ She moved in closer, lowered her voice so only I could hear, while Danté grimaced at Skye. ‘I’ll never have the strength you do, Sorrow. I’ve no wish to be a trophy bride, even if that’s what Father wants. This way is the best for me. The happiest.’
