“That is Ivan,” Karvek whispered in her ear, and she followed his gaze.
She would have known who he was even without him being pointed out. The King Commander was a tall man with broad shoulders and long wavy blond hair, partially pulled back from his face with small braids. He wore armor, not the kind for battle or to keep your insides from being ripped out, but the kind that looked regal and imposing. His shining breastplate had the emblem of the metal-forged crown over his heart, but to Iryana’s disappointment, he wasn’t wearing such a crown.
He watched the other leaders as they gathered into groups around the sides of the table, and he had this look about him that said he was prepared to crush anyone who opposed him. It contrasted with what Vaneshta had said about his aims for peace.
Iryana glanced at Karvek, trying to decipher the look on his face, but it was well hidden behind a mask of indifference and docility. He watched the King Commander, a slight wrinkling at the corner of his eyes.
“He is a fan of women, as you can see.” Karvek tilted his head toward a group of women that were gathering near the King Commander. They were young, beautiful, and dressed with taunting bits of skin showing.
The gathering reminded her of the one Karvek had invited her to, and she wondered if it would devolve in a similar way.
The King Commander’s party seemed far more pretentious though, like he was playing court.
The whole room was pretending as if the invasion of the dakii had never happened. Their clothes were clearly made decades ago, mended or adapted tofit them, but were still fine with their heavy brocades and embroidered fabrics. While officers came from the ketsan, she doubted anyone in the room was true nobility.
A rich, ethereal sound began across the room, and Iryana gasped, her body feeling as if it were melting. She looked over to see a young, red-draped woman sitting at one side of the room, a forged-harp in her hands. The forging was dark enough to be nearly red.
The music was slow and sensual and, combined with the effect of the fire-woven dress wrapped around her skin, Iryana felt absolutely languid.
“You were right about the forged performers,” she sighed.
Karvek smiled slightly. “Yes, but don’t worry. The effect will lessen soon.”
She hoped so, or she’d want to find somewhere to lay down and let her imagination wander. Or somewhere private to take care of the burning inside her.
“Come, we should greet our host,” Karvek said, presenting his arm.
“Lead the way, my general.” She offered him a smile, not having to work hard to appear at ease.
She thought over Karvek’s possible plans again as they approached the great man that was the King Commander. Until she knew what he wanted from her, she could merely observe.
“Ivan,” Karvek greeted. Iryana tensed at the lack of deference at the same time the King Commander’s lips twitched.
Surprisingly, the King Commander pressed his lips into a tight smile. “Always a pleasure, Karvek.”
Surely if Karvek was pretending to belong to the King Commander, he would be less rude. Did that mean he already knew and was putting up with it? That answer only led to more questions.
“I didn’t know the 18th had such treasures still.” The King Commander’s eyes trailed over her dress, not her, his eyes swimming in envy. “Introduce me to your guest?”
Before Karvek could answer, a woman walked up to the chair beside the King Commander. She was young and looked a bit like him with the same colored hair and the same strong nose. Her jaw was tight, but she sat dutifully. Iryana noticed that Karvek’s eyes tracked her.
Was this the daughter that Sheshar had spoken of before Karvek silenced him? She seemed to be pointedly ignoring Karvek.
“This is Iryana, once of the Klees Guardians but now of the 18th.” Karvek pulled her slightly closer, hand curving over the side of her hip.
“How interesting.” He looked at her carefully, then back to Karvek. “I haven’t seen a fire-imbued dress like that in over a decade. I would offer to buy it off you, but it does look like it was made for your friend.”
“Perhaps we can talk later,” Karvek mused. “But it looks like there is competition for your attention, so I will leave you to it.”
The group of women stepped closer as Karvek led Iryana away.
Iryana was stiff as they walked away, Karvek chuckling softly before purring, “Do not worry, my little guardian. We spoke of the dress, not of you. I said I take care of what’s mine, did I not?”
She shivered slightly, nodding.
Karvek started to lead her around the room, his hand splayed across the side of her lower back. She didn’t doubt that he wanted her to feel exposed, under his control, but it didn’t seem to be his primary motivation.
When eyes slid toward them, they fell right off Karvek and onto her. She could feel eyes on her, on her dress, on her body. No one could pay any attention to Karvek with her at his side, and he was far too clever for it to be unintentional.
