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But she did.
Discomfort tangled like a thorny ball in my chest as we continued into the damnable library and even the worried curiosity coming from my mate couldn’t dissipate it. It wasn’t that I disliked stories. Quite the opposite. I’d crept close to campfires specifically because I enjoyed the tales people wove for one another while they sat around the flames at night. Even if I knew they’d run in terror if they ever actually saw me near their fires, just listening to them tell each other stories had made me feel less alone.
Hell, it was why I was here. I’d snuck near to the fire Dex and the others set one night, not realizing they had magic that would whisper I was there.
I wouldn’t have these friends if not for stories.
But that wasn’t the same as reading.
“There are refreshments on the table and drinks at the bar along the wall,” Forian said, gesturing to each respectively. “If you need anything, please ring the bell by the door and I’ll return promptly.”
With a nod and a precisely polite smile, he stepped backward out the door and then turned to leave as another servant swung it closed behind him.
Leaving us all alone in here.
“So, um…” Niko back at the door nervously, keeping his voice low. “You all saw how there’s only a few actual soldiers here, right?”
Dex’s jaw muscles jumped, and I didn’t bother to respond. The answer was obvious.
“They could be fighting the Voidborn,” Lars offered.
“Dying because of the Voidborn, you mean,” Clay replied.
Lars cast him an exasperated look, and Clay made a confused gesture in response.
“Would Lord Thomas have stayed behind if his soldiers were sent to war?” Casimir asked, directing the question primarily to Gwyneira.
Her brow rose and fell. “I-I wouldn’t have thought so, but if the threat was here as well as wherever the soldiers might be… Perhaps yes?”
“He may have wanted to coordinate the defense here while his soldiers aid whatever battle is happening elsewhere,” Dex added.
That didn’t bode well, and I was obviously not the only one who thought so. Uneasy looks flashed over more than a few faces.
“Well, on that cheery note,” Clay said. “Anyone want a drink?”
Without waiting for an answer, he started for the bar only to pause when he reached it, not moving to take up any of the bottles. My eyes narrowed, but my confusion cleared a moment later when he turned away from the drinks with a muttered comment of, “Or you could stay focused, idiot,” that was so soft, only my ears and possibly the vampires’ could have picked it up.
The strain of all this was not only getting to me.
I felt Gwyneira moving behind me a moment before her delicate hand took mine and squeezed briefly before slipping away again. A wave of reassurance came from her, and my tension melted at it. But remorse filled me soon after. I should be comforting and supporting her, not the other way around.
Confusion flickered over her face when I turned to her. “What?” she whispered.
I searched for a way to explain that wouldn’t give away hints of the bond we now shared.
And the door opened before the words presented themselves.
Propriety fell like a mask over my mate’s face and without a trace of anything but polite patience in her body language, she turned as Lord Thomas walked through the doorway, the woman who’d conducted the so-called inspection on his heels. Even Gwyneira’s scent was calm as she watched them—a feat that would have thrown me if not for the years of royal training I suspected were at play.
Gods, she was born to be a queen.
“Apologies for the delay, princess,” Lord Thomas said when the door closed behind him, leaving him in the room with only the brunette woman at his side. “This is Valeria, my personal bodyguard.”
My nose twitched. No, she was more than that. Not a mate, exactly. But his scent was too pervasive on her for the woman to be merely a bodyguard.
“No need to apologize,” Gwyneira replied. “We were simply admiring your library.”
He smiled as if pleased by the praise. “If there’s time, I’ll have to show you the northern library as well. It has several volumes your father gifted to me.”
