Raphael’s gaze flicked to my lap, and I stilled my hand. He didn’t comment on it.
“It’ll get easier,” Larissa said encouragingly. “You’ll get the hang of it in no time.”
One of the guards whose names I didn’t know huffed. “A ringing endorsement from you.”
Larissa crossed her arms. “What’s that mean, Lettie?”
Lettie’s face was the picture of innocence. “Just that the first time I saw you try to ride a Nykta, I thought you would be the first of the king’s guard to be trampled to death by your own horse.”
Larissa lifted her chin. “Everyone knows Old Nelly is as ornery as the winter night is long. It was a setup.”
Demos snorted. “That’s the same excuse every rookie gives. Do better, Nightsworn.”
Larissa huffed. “I did do better. After half a dozen sugar cubes and a bushel of apples, the beast actually let me ride her halfway around the mountain before bucking me off again.”
The table laughed, Demos included. I cracked a smile before I even realized what I was doing. I’d spent little time speaking with anyone but Raphael, but there was no awkwardness. They were far more relaxed than any of the other vampires I’d encountered at court. More… normal.
“Should’ve given you a scabbard of sugar cubes instead of a sword,” Demos shot back.
“I’m not sure why Iademos is giving you a hard time, since I believe he started the tradition. He had a hoofprint on his sternum from Old Molly for over a week.” Raphael’s delivery was dry, but there was humor in his eyes as he needled the general.
More laughter. Not awkward laughter because he was their king and his jokes had to be laughed at, but something sincere, and warm.
“Is there a rule every mare has to be calledold?” I asked. “Because if you called my mother Old Val, she probably would’ve kicked you in the chest too.”
Now the table erupted.
“Even if I gave her sugar cubes?” Larissa asked between chortles.
I tried to imagine my mother, the ever-proper lady, eating a sugar cube whole, and giggled. “Even then.”
The conversation moved on from horses to light hazing around recruits to lamenting the work ethic of the latest batch, while Demos reminded them they had the same complaints about every round, and on and on. Laughter came easily; blood wine flowed in goblets. Or most. I managed barely a sip of mine, under Raphael’s watch.
It was as odd to see Demos in this friendly environment as Raphael. When I’d come to Damerel, aside from the few balls I’d had to attend, I’d spent little time around vampires. I certainly hadn’t spent time joking with them. That meant I hadn’t gotten to see how they interacted with others.
Yes, they were the leaders in the group, in different ways. But the camaraderie said this wasn’t the first time they’d sat around a table.
“Let’s make the evening more interesting,” said one of the vampiresses—Greta, I thought her name was. She pulled a pouch off her belt and let the contents roll on the table. Bone dice. “Who’s up for a game of Round Toss?”
“Bet you’ve been waiting days to get us into a game,” Lettie quipped, taking a long sip of her drink.
Greta arched a brow, already dealing the dice across the table. “Scared?”
A derisive scoff from Lettie. “Hardly.”
“Do you need me to explain how Round Toss is played?” Larissa asked me, pushing a small pile to me.
“Thea showed me,” I said. Though it had been a few weeks.
Something that sounded distinctly like,Of course she did,came from the general’s direction.
The others pulled silver coins from their sides, and I bit my lip, realizing the situation. No shells for betting here. My chest tightened with embarrassment. Should I bow out? I wanted to play, but asking for handouts…
My anxiety was cut off with a slight press into my thigh: Raphael’s hand grazing my leg. The sore muscle made me even more aware of his touch. He had coins cupped in his palm. I reached under the table, hollowing my hand. He transferred them, closing my hand around the cold metal. I pulled them onto my lap, running my fingers through them to get a sense of how much I was holding. Fifteen pieces, give or take.
He was carefully not looking at me.
I hadn’t brought any coins of my own. Had basically no money. He could have given it to me in front of everyone, I realized. It would hardly be shocking. But I’d made it clear I wastrying to show some form of independence, and this… this must have been his way of recognizing what I wanted.
