“I don’t need a lesson on what decisions I made!” he shouts, spittle flying through the air. Skies, he’s in a mood. Perhaps because Faramir is nowhere to be seen. Probably sleeping off a hangover.
“Any word from Tundrayn?” I ask before my father summons a storm and frightens my wife, though generally—I’m loathe to admit it—he has better control over his moods.
“Nothing, sire,” the lanky man stammers.
“That reminds me,” my father grumbles. “Draft a letter to Tormik. About ourenduringalliance.” His sharp gaze cuts to me like a blade, lip curling with anger. “Ask for support against the Rebellion.”
The man nods before hurrying away.
That wasn’t too bad. Perhaps now I can leave and get back to Mayah.
Except fortune has never favored me.
And seems, it’s not about to begin now.
The door groans open, and an adviser enters, a thick stack of parchments in hand that he promptly deposits in front of me.
“Sire,” he pants as though he ran here. “I—I asked Prince Faramir to review these agreements. And he told me to come to you.” His face is pale—I know exactly how Faramir told him.
A deep sigh and weary nod are my response.
By the time I’ve finished reading and signing the tower of parchments, I’m alone in the council chambers. My stomach rumbles insistently. If I hurry, perhaps I can join Mayah for lunch.
My boots thud on the marble as I head toward our room. Gregoran had found me in the council chambers mid-morning, as I’d instructed, and informed me that all was well with Mayah—no disturbances. And no sly attempts from Faramir.
Still, my heart thrums with worry.
“Sire!”
I grit my teeth. Is everyone so horribly inept in this skiesforsaken palace?
The adviser approaches briskly, his energy signature mellow despite his panting breaths. “Sire, the ring. It’s ready.”
This—this I can make time for. “Where is it?”
“Er, with the jeweler. In the receiving room. Shall I bring him up here?”
“No.” That’ll take too long. “I’ll come with you.”
The jeweler awaits, draped in deep emerald robes. He jumps up when I enter, falling into a deep bow, glittering rings adorning every finger.
“Sire, it’s been an honor.”
“The ring?” I can’t contain the impatience thrumming in my voice.
He presents a velvet box with a flourish. I open it and swallow a curse.
The shape is right—teardrop to match her necklace, but a black diamond mocks me. And it’s far too small.
My face must reveal my displeasure because the jeweler’s eyes widen comically.
“I saidwhitediamond,” I grit out, thrusting the box into his hands. “And bigger. Much bigger. Do you have the sketch?”
He nods quickly, searching his pockets. “Apologies for the oversight, sire. Black diamond is customary for royals, so I assumed…” He comes up empty-handed in his search. “Apologies, the sketch must be back at my shop. I’ll rectify this at once.”
With a tight nod, I sweep from the room.
Mayah must be done with lunch by now, but maybe we can sit in the gardens until—
