When they made it fully around the room, they stopped. Karvek lowered himself down into a comfortable-looking couch with gold upholstery near the performances, but he didn’t pull her down next to him like she expected.
“Take a few turns around the room, Iryana.” His gaze was intense, purposeful. “Then come back and join me.”
Her mind snapped to attention. The last time he’d sent her away… but she pushed that thought away and focused. Her best guess was that this had something to do with picking up patterns, like he’d used her for before.
Steadying herself, Iryana offered him a nod before heading back into the party. An attendant handed her a glass of golden wine, and she accepted it with a smile. Anything to help blend in.
She adopted the same poised grace she’d seen in the performing courtesans; shoulders loose, steps deliberate. She let her face relax into something peaceful, though her mind was as focused as it had ever been.
Without an idea of what to look for, she took note of everything.
A bejeweled woman sat next to her escort, everything about the way she smiled and laughed charismatic and easy. But she seemed to steel herself every time she made eye contact with someone new. Nerves, Iryana decided. And her escort, a major based on the belt around his waist, stayed close to her. His hand lingered on the small of her back, and it seemed protective and even affectionate. But when another man came near, he pulled her closer, grip tightening. A possessive man then. Likely not interesting unless Karvek wanted a way to upset him.
The harpist missed a note, and while no one else seemed to react, it called to Iryana as she buzzed with focus. The musician was playing easily again, perhaps a bit more tentatively, but her eyes flicked a few times across the room. A flash of fear in those eyes. Iryana tracked the gaze, finding two of the King Commander’s guards. The harpist feared them. But Karvek likely wouldn’t care about it.
Lifting her glass to her lips, Iryana exchanged a commiserating smile with a finely dressed man, most of his chest exposed. His eyes seemed to say,Ah, the things we do. But at least we look fabulous.
Then near one of the side walls, mostly out of sight, Iryana recognized a captain in half-armor. She wasn’t from the 18th, the sigil on the uniform different, but when Iryana had passed her before with Karvek, this captain’s jaw had clenched.
Iryana made sure to pass near the captain and noted that her jaw clenched again. Her hand didn’t twitch as if she was thinking of forming a weapon, but disdain was clear on her face. The official she guarded smiled too smoothly at her when Iryana walked by. Iryana matched it with a sharp one of her own.
They would likely stab Karvek in the back given half the chance, she thought. Something to tuck away for later.
Two guards, who had never once scanned the room, just stared at the same couple of soldiers. They were General Vholekya’s men, she thought. From the Queen’s Brigade. There to spy, not guard anyone.
By the time she neared the performers again, she’d counted four whispered arguments that had stopped the moment she’d gotten close. Noted a handful of soldiers that kept glancing at Karvek and those that seemed to be waiting for the King Commander’s attention.
She wished she knew what Karvek wanted from her.
A female sergeant walked by, winking at Iryana and Iryana responded with a tip of her glass and a small smile.
Jesha and Nenad, the married pair, hadn’t moved far from their original table, still glued to the other’s side. They spoke only to each other and one or two others who stopped by. Clearly not trying to make any alliances, and few seemed to seek them out as well. Nothing of note.
By the time she made her way back to Karvek, Iryana was so wound up and on edge that not even the soothing music could loosen her tense muscles.
“General,” she greeted, waiting expectantly for whatever he would ask of her.
Others had gathered near Karvek, trying to pull him into conversation perhaps, or just to watch him while his distraction was circling the room.
Karvek pulled her into his lap, sitting her sideways across him. His hand wrapped around her, resting casually on the top of her thigh. Her shock smoothed into something more pleasurable as the fire-woven dress massaged her emotions. She could apparently still enjoy a murderer’s touch.
The central table was empty, save for the King Commander’s daughter and a few of her companions, Ivan having retreated to a couch in the darker parts of the room. One woman was on his lap while another kissed him greedily.
Iryana still wasn’t sure if the King Commander was trying to seduce the other leaders into obeying him, or just to show the power he had in mocking a court.
“What can I do to prove myself?” she asked.
“Wait. There are eyes on us,” he shushed her.
Karvek touched her casually, and she tried to stay relaxed. But all the eyes on her, his hands on her, the dress amplifying the slight bit of thrill she felt; Iryana couldn't help but lean into him. The hand not on her thigh took turns carefully making its way up, across the back of her shoulders, and down the other arm.
He’s a murderer, she had to remind herself.
He had a tight grip on her attention, and she noted how his eyes flitted over to Ivan’s daughter a few times. The young lady seemed to find herself peeking at him occasionally too. There was certainly a history there.
She wondered if Karvek was using her to make the woman jealous, but she suspected that was just a nice bonus for him.
His plan was effective. The others couldn’t help but look at her, be affected by the magic woven into her dress. That seemed to overcome them enough that they found their own distractions elsewhere. She was like an aphrodisiac that Karvek paraded around them.
