“My friend arrived late last night,” he says, and the reason for the early morning knock at the door becomes clear. “I would like you to meet each other before the masque.”
He smooths the fabric of the dress along my arms, though there is not a single wrinkle to be found.
“Would you be agreeable to meeting her at dinner tonight?” he asks. “Awri and the others would also join us.”
When I don’t answer right away, he offers, “I could also arrange for something more casual, if you prefer.”
The male continues smoothing the lines of my dress, and though I don’t understand why he’s anxious, I try to reassure him. “Dinner is fine.”
And it will be. I smile as some of the worry falls from the lines of his face when he hears my reply.
While my mind is focused on meeting with the king, far from thoughts of formal dinners and new acquaintances, the promise of seeing familiar faces is enough to tempt me. It eases the small amount of trepidation I suddenly feel at meeting thisfriend. I raise my eyebrows at the look of annoyance blooming on his face when another knock sounds at the door and offer him a sympathetic smile when he leaves to answer it.
The general plants a quick kiss on top of my head as I pass between the male and Toren and into the hall. The echo of Xeyvian’s instructions to increase the guard follows me down the corridor as I head toward the stables.
I’m surprised when Toren catches up with me just as I exit the palace. The heavy clip of his boots quieting when he slows to keep pace beside me.
“Riesh tells me you are quite a skilled fighter,” he says, eyeing me from the side.
My back stiffens, and I glance at the male from the corner of my eye. I am still in enemy territory, and until I have a chance to speak with the king, my reason for being here must remain hidden. Though I like Toren, I have a feeling that, even more than the rest of them, he is likely to throw me into a cell if he ever suspects me to be the threat that I am.
“Riah tells me you were trained by a Drakai,” he says plainly.
“I was,” I admit.
“It seems strange to me that your uncle, a man with such devotions to the fea, would have a brother who is willing to hire a Drakai to teach his daughter the art of war.”
If I had known about Felias’s true loyalties to the fea, perhaps I would have spun a different tale in regard to my proficiencies. But the time for another story has passed.
“Tell me, Toren, do you have a daughter?”
“I have three,” he says, and I’m not sure why it surprises me.
Why wouldn’t he have a family?
I clear my throat and ask, “And if you yourself had been unable to teach them to fight, would you have limited their ability to defend themselves by refusing the best instructor you could find, simply because she was Drakai?”
“She?” His brow draws down.
Foc. It isn’t the worst slip I could make, but female Drakai have always been much fewer in number than the abundance of men who take up the profession. The proclamation drastically limits the possibilities of who my teacher could have been.
“I didn’t realize you thought women were incapable of teaching, Commander,” I say. It’s a small jab, meant to deflect from the currenttrajectory of the conversation, and I’m relieved when it does.
“I have many females train others under my command,” he says, attempting to explain himself, even as his cheeks flush a subtle shade of pink.
“I’m glad to hear it,” I say, offering Toren a curt nod, which he returns, a little of the color fading from his cheeks.
I loose a breath, trying to hide my relief when Riah comes into view. I dip my head at Toren before veering off toward the ring. Riah tilts her head curiously when I walk to the gate and let myself in, rather than vaulting over the fence like I normally do. Hearing Toren issue orders to the guards stationed nearby, I glance back and my stomach knots when I see he has taken up a position close to the ring.
He leans lazily against a thick, well-used post, his eyes anywhere but on me. Despite his nonchalance, I have no doubt I am his sole focus, and if a threat should arise, the attacker will find Toren’s posture nothing but a feigned casualness.
“Maybe we can take it easy today?” I plead with Riah in little more than a whisper.
Her brows drop, and she looks like she’s ready to inspect my entire body herself when she asks, “Are you injured?”
“Just a little tired,” I say.
Iamtired, but more than that, I have no interest in Toren, of all feyn, deciding to take a closer look at me the very day I’ve decided to give myself up. It’s a miracle Riah hadn’t thrown me in a cell herself the day she broke my hand. For my part, the building of our bond has been careless, and I’m still not sure why she never asks more questions.
