Shecertainlywasn’t going to think about that right now.
“One more time might suffice.” Nik’s expression softened, his gaze sweeping down her form. “If I may, you look beautiful.”
Heat spread across her cheeks. “Your staff recommended the best dressmakers in the city. I have them to thank.”
Nik shook his head, a hint of thoughtfulness twisting his full lips. “I don’t think it’s the dress, Ciana. I think it’s just you.”
“I, well…” She cast up a shy smile. “Thank you.Nik.”
The king smiled at the emphasized way she said his name. “Can I get you a drink? I have ale, whiskey, wine?—”
“Do you have gin?” she blurted, then winced. How very lady-like.
The king again only chuckled. “Surprisingly, no,” he said. “My mother had an allergy to juniper, so it was never something we kept in the palace.” He paused. “I suppose those habits are hard to shake.”
“Oh,” Ciana said, blinking. She softened her touch on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
Nik shrugged. “She’s been gone for many years now. We miss her, but we don’t dwell.” The warmth returned to his face. “Can I get you anything besides gin?”
Ciana smiled. “Wine would be wonderful.”
A silent serverset an artfully arranged plate of fruits, raw vegetables, and freshly baked bread in front of Ciana, the colors of the bounty rich and vibrant. A second server placed a small bowl of creamy pink soup, and she met the king’s stare with a raised brow.
“Strawberry bisque,” he answered with a grin. “A Vathan summer specialty.”
Fruit soup? Ciana shrugged; she was willing to try any food once. She stirred the chilled bisque, taking a tentative bite.
Tart, fresh sweetness burst across her tongue, softened by a subtle hint of cream. It was rich and decadent, but also sweet and simple. A low groan slipped from her chest.
“Oh, goddess,” she said. “That’s delicious.”
Nik laughed. “I’m glad you like it.”
They were silent for a moment, the tinkling of their silver against the porcelain its own sort of conversation. When Ciana’s bowl was nearly empty, and she had to fight back the urge to lick it clean, Nik lifted his gaze back to hers, drumming his fingers on the tree trunk table.
“Do you mind sating my curiosity, Ciana?”
She cocked her head, dabbing a napkin on her mouth. “What do you mean?”
The king relaxed in his chair. “It’s just been so long since our nations have had a chance to sit down and learn from each other. We know how things used to be in Onita, but…not how they are now.”
Ciana folded her hands in her lap, mirroring his relaxed posture. The appetizer had settled the nerves in her stomach, her mood soaring as she savored the lingering flavors of the soup. “Of course. That makes sense. What do you want to know?”
Niktael’s face lit up. Servers appeared, clearing the plates from the table. He leaned forward on his forearms. “You said ‘goddess’ a few moments ago. What is your people’s relationship with Qhohena? And what of the magic in your kingdom?”
That easy calmness still wrapped around Ciana. “Well,” she started, “most see and worship Qhohena as a benevolent mother. A goddess of life and fertility. The priestesses maintain her temples and lead a weekly service. Although,” she said with a giggle, “I was never very good about attending. Those rituals weren’t my thing.”
“They’re not mine, either.” Nik grinned. “What of the other Onitan gods?”
Ciana nodded. “Yes. There’s also Priam, Qhohena’s Consort. I’ve met him, actually, and unfortunately he’s a total dick.”
Nik lifted a brow. “Is that so?”
“Oh, yes. He caused all sorts of trouble for us back in Kreah.”
“Interesting.” Nik tapped a finger. “And Qhohena’s sister? The silver moon goddess?”
“Zadione.” Ciana pursed her lips. “I don’t know much about her. Mariah has spoken to her—and to Qhohena—but she hasn’t said much beyond that. I know she’s the goddess of death. That’s a little terrifying to me. But Mariah trusts her—about as much as she trusts any of the gods—so that must count for something, I suppose.”
