They’d arrived at the Vathan palace two days ago. Two days since her disastrous first encounter with the young Vathan King, Niktael. But Ciana was not one to be easily deterred by a single bad conversation.
Mariah was relying on her too much for her to let that happen.
She’d spent those past two days doing what she did best: observing. She watched the guards, learning their watch patterns and shift rotations. She watched the citizens who walked the streets outside her windows, watched how they conducted business in the woodland city.
And, of course, she watched the king. It wasn’t difficult; he hardly ever went anywhere alone, always accompanied by a retinue of guards or palace officials. She learned his schedule—when he took his meals, when he had meetings, when he held court in his throne room.
She was particularly interested in the moments when he sought refuge in his private study. He usually entered and exitedalone, staying for an hour or two at a time before rejoining palace life.
Which is why she was here now, staring down those heavy mahogany doors.
“Are you sure this is the right time to do this?” She almost jumped at Sebastian’s soft question.
Ciana gave him a half-hearted glare. “Yes. I’m quite sure.”
Sebastian was always there; a quiet, lurking shadow. He usually wore a scowl that didn’t quite fit his face, as if he was unused to that kind of expression but couldn’t keep it hidden.
Whatever. He knew her task and why she was there. He had no right to be an ass about it.
If Ciana could put her feelings aside to help her queen, then so could he.
She shifted her shoulders back, adjusting her corseted bodice. On their first day, she’d sent a servant down into the city with her measurements and some coin to buy her a wardrobe suitable for palace life. It was Onitan gold, but it seemed the currency was good anywhere; the servant returned a few hours later laden with fine gowns, all structured bodices and floral lace.
The style in Vatha was similar to that of Onita, except they really did seem to love their flowers.
Swallowing past her sudden surge of nerves, Ciana lifted her fist and rapped lightly against the wood. It echoed far louder than she intended. She gritted her teeth to keep from cringing.
The knock faded to silence. She shifted uncomfortably. Had she gotten it wrong? Had the king decided not to go to his study today? Gods, what if he was in a private meeting and she was intruding once again?—
“Come in.”
The male voice was soft, but she heard it through the door. Her mind quieted, even as her palms grew damp. She pressedthem against her full skirts, desperately trying to wrangle in her nerves.
She felt Sebastian’s eyes on her as she pushed open the heavy doors, but she didn’t turn back. Not even when they closed behind her with a deep click.
The room, like the rest of the Vathan palace, was warm and richly decorated. Vines crawled up the walls, the thick branch of a tree holding twinkling lights and inlaid with gold and gemstones. A window was open, letting in the sounds of both the forest and the city.
Seated at a massive, cluttered desk, hunched over a towering stack of parchment, was the king. The scratches of his pen filled the near silent room.
Huh. So, he really did just come in here for a chance to get some work done.
Niktael set his pen down and sat back with a sigh. He lifted his gaze to her, his expression lighting up.
It gave Ciana a momentary hope. Maybe she hadn’t fucked up as badly as she’d thought.
“Lady Visseau,” the king said warmly, pushing to his feet. His clothes were of fine make, yet casual; something he seemed to prefer. “What a pleasure to see you today.” His brows drew together, concern etching across his handsome face. “I hope nothing is wrong? Has everything in the palace been to your liking?”
Ciana smiled, putting forth her best show of reassurance. “Oh, yes, Your Majesty. Everything is wonderful. This city and this palace…” She sighed. “They’re quite remarkable.”
“I’m glad you think so.” He relaxed, leaning his hands on his desk. The veins in his forearms flexed under his rolled-up sleeves.
She let herself look. This was her role, wasn’t it? She was supposed to be interested.
It was just a convenience that he made it easy.
“Is there something else, then?” Niktael asked quietly. He was smiling, just the barest tilt to his lips, his warm eyes flashing.
No, not a smile. The king wassmirking.
