I don’t know if he realizes I can see it or if he just lost focus when I distracted him, but I’m satisfied all the same.
The feast is served. Three courses of simple but delicious food come in quick succession. The musicians play loudly, and the people break out into more casual and less gossipy conversations punctuated by genuine laughter. It’s so much less formal than Lunameade, and while there is still a fair share of eyes on me, it’s nice to know they’re not judging my every shift in posture the way people in the city do.
No one asks me to speak, thank the Divine, and unlike the dinner we just had at my parents’, no one seems interested in speaking to me at all.
Once the main course is clear, the servants bring around small bowls of a cold, creamy dessert that tastes like lavender and honey and melts in my mouth. I have never tasted anything so delicious. I’m not even annoyed when I finish mine and Henry slides his untouched bowl in front of me.
“I can honestly say I’ve never seen you like something so much,” he teases. “It’s called Dark Star Custard. We only make it around festival season because we need colder temperatures.”
I enjoy my second helping with a very unladylike ravenousness.
Henry leans over and whispers something to his father, then turns back to me. “Ready to retire?”
“Already? Don’t you need to speak or something?”
Henry chuckles. “No. We’re not so formal. We just needed to show our faces. Lots of curiosity about the woman who broke Kennymyra’s sigil and seduced Stefan.”
I roll my eyes as he helps me up and leads me through the small crowd of people dancing at the center of the room.
Bryce leans against the wall beside the exit door. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to borrow your husband for a moment before you head out,” he says with a grin.
“Borrow him as long as you want. Keep him for all I care,” I say, shoving Henry toward him.
Gaven immediately takes his place, offering me his arm.
The hallway outside the feast room is cool and empty. We walk down the long straightaway and turn right toward the back staircase to the second floor. A guard is stationed outside the recovery room, which neither of us has been able to get into. Despite our poking around, we can’t figure out what exactly that room is. My assumption is some kind of infirmary, but Gaven thinks it’s a vault for magical items.
What we agree on is that there must be something worth protecting inside, and that has made it our new investigative focus. The round-the-clock guard has foiled any of our opportunities to peek inside so far.
We turn left at the next hallway and nearly run into Stefan Laurence, two of his friends, and several women from the feast.
“Well, if it isn’t the woman who tried to throw herself at me the day after she got married. I guess old Henry just isn’t keeping you satisfied,” Stefan says.
I step toward Stefan and cock my head to the side. “Are you suggesting that I, a helpless city girl, forcedyou, a big, strong guard, to abscond with me to a secret location I didn’t know existed?” I shake my head. “That seems a bit far-fetched.”
I twirl the ends of my hair around my finger. “I’m certainly not afraid to own up to my mistakes. Frankly, you weren’t that desirable before that mistake, and you’re way less afterwards.” I laugh in his face just to see what will happen.
Stefan takes a step toward me, but Gaven pins him against the wall before he can take a second.
“Do not threaten Miss Carrenwell,” he says. His voice is pitched in the low, warning timbre of a man who has killed for lesser sleights.
I expect Stefan to underestimate Gaven’s age and experience. I wait for him to strike back or for his friends to join in. Instead, a growl behind them makes everyone go still.
Kyrin stands at the bottom of the stairwell just a few feet away. The wolf’s narrowed eyes are fixed on Stefan.
Stefan swats Gaven away and brushes his hands down his ruffled shirt. “I wasn’t threatening her.” He points at me. “You’re laughing now, but you won’t be laughing long. You’ll pay in blood one way or another,and some pumped-up, unblessed bodyguard can’t stop me.” He waves a hand at Gaven. “That’s a threat, old man.”
He stalks by us with his friends on his heels and the women chattering excitedly at the spectacle.
I want to brush off the threat, but I know right away that taunting him was a mistake. He’s going to feel justified taking a shot at me.
Or at least he’ll try to. The only thing more dangerous than a man with a bruised ego is a woman with a score to settle.
46
HENRY
As I exit Harlow’s bedroom, Gaven watches me with distrustful assessment. He always looks at me that way. I should have just come out of my door to keep from further antagonizing him, but I like how irritated he gets seeing me get closer to her.
