“I can make you do that if you’d like,” Elsedora said, and Ryn flushed.
Krait stared at me expectantly over his wineglass. My head tilted to one side because I wasn’t sure there was an animal in existence that complemented his nature.
“I’ll think on yours,” I answered his unasked question.
Elsedora said, “I’m surprised she didn’t just say what we’re all thinking. You’re a bear.”
With a chuckle, I shrugged. It wasn’t the worst comparison.
Asterie stifled a laugh, too, and hiccuped. “I think I’ve had enough to drink.”
Wine was always the answer to stiff conversation.
Feeling triumphant, I smiled.
“Stay!” Elsedora said. “Oh, it would be fun to catch up more. Krait, can they? There are spare rooms by my quarters.”
I joked, “Are you sure you want to hear what they get up to at night?”
Asterie’s usually pallid cheeks turned crimson. “Is this what friends speak of?”
“I suppose,” I said with a shrug.
“Fine,” Krait said, surprising us all.
The charmed wine bottle poured another glass of wine for me and Asterie.
Later, Fenris requested a private word with Krait and Ryn. He leaned down to kiss Asterie’s temple before he followed the others into the courtyard, and my heart clenched. The silent understanding between the couple reawoke a longing in some depth of me that I thought I’d let harden over.
Royals rarely found love that was so simple and pure. We negotiated a sensible marriage. We produced heirs to take our throne. Then the cycle repeated.
Elsedora stood and placed her forearms on her chair back. “I am going to go check with the maids so a room can be prepared. Asterie, keep Sybilla out of trouble, would you?”
“I have been little trouble,” I defended.
“Fine—prevent anyone from causinghertrouble then.” El winked, leaving the room with a flouncing gait.
“She’s a handful,” I noted.
“She definitely comes from the same stock as Fen.”
I huffed into my wine and pushed back my chair. “Come, let’s go somewhere more comfortable.”
I led Asterie down the hall toward the sitting room. Van walked at her heel, seemingly still searching for food scraps.
After entering the cozy space, we sat on a deep suede sofa. It felt like a cloud against my back muscles, which had begun to ache again as I sobered. Vangard curled up at Asterie’s feet and grumbled in contentment on the plush rug. The dim light from the candelabra above and the solid, thick wood doors made for a perfect place for a private conversation.
“Now that we are alone, take off that ribbon and tell me honestly what happened to you here.” Asterie cut through the lightness in my mood.
“You’re demanding when you drink,” I said. Instead of coming up with another excuse, I grabbed one end of the ribbon and unwound it from my bruised neck. My friend leaned forward with a furrowed brow, her glistening brown eyes settling on my neck.
“Sybilla...” she breathed out. “What has he done? Is he forcing you to marry him?”
“It was not Darvanda. I am fine here—truly. Marriage was my idea, and neither of us has any romanticized fantasies. It is apoliticalarrangement.”
“Then who did this?” my friend demanded. “Because that does not lookfineto me.”
I stiffened. “That is what I hope to discover. You always carry a moonstone, right?”
