Page 255 of Blade of the Nightking

"I've never even seen one."

"They're a Pelagan delicacy,” he said, squeezing a wedge of lemon over it, juice running down his fingers.

Before I could protest, he lifted the shell toward my mouth. I hesitated, my nose wrinkling.

“It won't bite,” he murmured, his eyes settling on my mouth.

When I parted my lips, he tipped the shell. The oyster slid onto my tongue all at once, cold, wet, and impossibly slippery. I clapped a hand over my mouth as I fought the overwhelming urge to spit it back out.

Thalassis laughed so hard his shoulders shook while I battled the texture, forcing myself to swallow. It was every bit as dreadful as I'd feared—slick, almost slimy—but once I managed to get past that, the flavor itself wasn't unpleasant.

It was clean. Briny. As though the scent of crashing waves had somehow been distilled into one tiny, gelatinous blob.

"It..." I frowned, still trying to decide how I felt about it. "It tastes like the ocean."

"Indeed." He selected another oyster from the platter before leaning a little closer, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. "They're said to be an aphrodisiac."

A smile spread slowly across his face as he offered it to me. I shook my head.

His grin only widened. "More for me." He tipped it into his own mouth, swallowed easily, and set the empty shell aside.

I spent most of the lunch listening as Thalassis talked about the Tidelands, about Pelaga. When we were finished eating, he waved a dismissive hand and the servants sprang into action, clearing all the food and plates efficiently before disappearing out the door, leaving us alone.

Thalassis reached for a decanter and filled my wine glass, holding it out to me.

I hesitated. After Solmire, I'd come far too close to losing myself at the bottom of a bottle, chasing oblivion instead of facing everything I'd done and everything I'd lost. I hadn't touched wine since.

But this was one glass. A small price to pay if it kept Thalassis's attention exactly where I needed it while Rìan searched for the second Gate. Besides, he'd encouraged me to drink the Ambrosia when I'd wanted to refuse. If he'd been willing to take that risk to further our plans, surely I could endure a single glass of wine.

I wrapped my fingers around the stem, taking the smallest mouthful I could manage. Gentle warmth bloomed through my chest, familiar and comforting. Like greeting an old friend.

As the conversation moved from one story to the next, I found myself taking the occasional sip without thinking much of it. Every time the level in my glass dropped, Thalassis reached for the decanter, topping it up before I even realized he'd done it. The wine never seemed to diminish.

By the time I noticed the pleasant haze settling over me, softening the edges of my thoughts and loosening the tension in my stomach, I could no longer guess how much I'd actually had to drink.

I reclined against the sofa, folding my legs beneath me and propping my head against one hand as I listened to Thalassis talk. He was remarkably engaging. His laughter was infectious, his manner warm and charming, and his stories so fascinating that I hung on every word.

The conversation drifted into a comfortable lull. Thalassis swirled the wine in his glass before setting it aside, his easy smile fading into something more thoughtful.

“Tell me, Elowen.” His eyes settled on mine. “Where is Aedric?”

My heart lurched. For one dreadful moment, I thought he knew. That Rìan was searching for the Gate. That he wasn't Aedric at all.

He studied me intently, weighing something behind those ocean-blue eyes. Then the corners of his mouth curved into an amused smile. “I'm simply surprised he hasn't come crashing through that door yet. He's never struck me as the sort to leave his mate alone with another male for very long.”

Relief washed through me so quickly it left me almost dizzy.

“I could go and see if he's awake,” I offered. “I'm sure he'd join us if you'd like.”

“No.” Thalassis turned to face me, draping one arm along the back behind me. With his free hand, he reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair from my face.

“To tell you the truth,” he said quietly, his fingers tucking it carefully behind my ear, “I much prefer it this way. Just the two of us.”

He took the glass from my hand and set it on the table before turning back to me.

“What do you think of the Tidelands?”

He was far closer than I would have liked.