Andrian nodded, still glowing with that foreign joy. At least one of the Laurent sons had found it for himself.
He supposed he had, too, but it was not a reality he could let himself wish for anymore. Kol’s lingering threats and mad desires only settled that conviction.
Gabriel must’ve read the shift in Andrian’s expression—hereallyneeded to get his shit together and hide his thoughts better—because his gray eyes turned questioning.
“What about you?” he asked. “Surely there is some girl in the capital that caught Andrian Laurent’s eye.” Gabriel’s smile took on a mischievous tint. “I’ve even heard the new queen is quite something herself.”
Andrian knew Gabriel meant it as a joke, that he couldn’t know the full truth. Yet the words shredded the fleeting joy that had warmed his chest, seating him back into familiar, coldagony. His hand dropped from Gabriel’s shoulder as his icy walls fell into place.
“She is.” His words were clipped, his tone brusque. Gabriel blinked with shock.
“Brother, I didn’t mean?—”
“Why are you here, Gabriel?” Andrian asked tersely. If he had to spend a single more second talking about Mariah, he feared he’d break, right there in the great hall.
Gabriel nodded, a question still in his expression, but one he thankfully didn’t ask. “I received a letter from Kol. Father told me that if I were to ever get correspondence from someone by that name, I was to immediately do as commanded. I was also given instructions as to his title and status within the court.”
“What else did Father tell you about Kol?” Andrian kept his voice flat, pulling back all emotion. His curiosity was genuine, but he also didn’t believe Kol had left them to have this conversation fully in private.
“Just that Kol was powerful and fearsome and someone to be respected. And that when he arrived, he would carry more power than the queen and was to be treated as such.”
A simple enough answer. One Andrian hated but could live with for the moment. “And what do you know of Father’s whereabouts?”
Gabriel glanced around the empty hall. “I assumed he’d be here, but… Has he left? To Verith?”
Andrian hesitated. He was sure Kol expected him to tell Gabriel the truth of what had happened to their father; that might even be the reason he’d left them together in the first place, so the coward wouldn’t have to tell the young idyllic lord that he held his father in the dungeons below the castle.
He would give Kol no such mercy.
“He is preoccupied, but I am sure ourhostwill fill you in on his whereabouts soon enough.” He finally summoned a smile, a touch of his vindictive streak laced in.
Gabriel frowned but nodded. A door creaked behind Andrian, and soft steps entered the hall.
“I’m here to show you to your rooms, My Lord.”
Andrian knew that voice. It was much more subdued and timid than he remembered, and he didn’t know it well, but he still knew it.
Masking his shock as best he could, Andrian slowly turned to face Anniliese Hareth.
His control slipped when he finally saw her.
Gone were the fine clothing and rich jewelry that befitted a lady and heir to a Royal house. Instead, she wore the flimsy white robes that clothed the other priestesses, her dark hair unbound around her shoulders.
But Anniliese wasn’t a priestess. She’d attended the same Choosing as Mariah. She couldn’t have magic.
Did she?
Anniliese’s expression was vacant, her brown eyes empty. “My Lord,” she repeated, staring past Andrian to Gabriel. “Are you ready to see your rooms?”
Even her voice was muted and distant, as if she were simply repeating what someone had told her to say and not speaking of her own volition.
What the fuck had Kol done to her? Or was this more Ksee’s doing?
Gabriel, for his part, didn’t seem to notice. He turned that warm smile on Anniliese, brushing past Andrian.
“I know the circumstances are strange, but I’m glad you’re here, brother. It will be nice to get to know you better over the coming weeks.”
Andrian couldn’t voice an answer, so he settled for a tight nod. Gabriel frowned, just slightly, before he returned the nod and faced Anniliese.
