“Tilal.You look lovely this evening.” His voice washed through the chamber, flooding her face with heat.
For some bloody reason she dropped into a curtsy before bouncing back to her full height.Get to the symposium,she reminded herself, as if she had to lie when she said, “You clean up nicely yourself.”
The children joined them, saving her from any further awkwardness. She was only there at his behest to ensure they didn’t summon anotherdragon or globular flying knives. That was it.
The food was delicious and warm, but conversation was tepid at best. Lord Kahoth directed several questions at the kids, mostly boring them by asking about the ins and outs of their magic. He knew they didn’t use their well of power to create, but asked if theyhadone, to which the twins said no. Nesrina promptly corrected that misnomer, reminding them they did have a well, but it wasn’t needed in their regular magic use.
“Interesting,” Lord Kahoth muttered, fighting peas onto his fork.
She wasn’t sure how much he meant that, so she stopped talking.
Conversation shifted as the duke asked the kids about their favorite foods, favorite colors, hobbies, and more.Surely he knows his niece and nephew better than this?Nes wondered more than once as he asked question after question of their small group, always giving her a chance to respond too, as if she weren’t merely a chaperone.
It was interesting to learn, however, that Lord Kahoth’s favorite food was bacon. His favorite color used to be blue but had recently become green. And, his favorite hobby was reading, which she found unsurprising, given the number of books she found interesting that later went missing from his library. Her favorites were bread and honey, blue, and reading, too, respectively.
She must have imagined the extent of his kinship with the twins. The dukehadbeen rather distracted until that afternoon.These dinners,she rationalized,must be his attempt to get to know them.
It was a nice gesture, but she could see plain as day what he was doing. Luckily, the children seemed none-the-wiser. He asked for their birthday—her own was in the early fall, she replied when prodded. And yes, she was nearly twenty-two.
It was plain to Nes that the man had somehow earned the idolization of the prince and princess in spite of his aloof attitude and distant nature.
Ah, well.No matter the reasoning behind it, she was happy to see the twins so happy. That’s certainly what had her flushed and giddy by the end of supper.
As she retreated to her room, gown amazingly unmarred by oil from the asparagus tips, or red from the raspberry tarts, her mind wandered backto the symposium and that envelope of green and gold. Nesrina desperately wanted to bring up the event to the duke, buthow?
What if he’s not going?She froze on the stairs, unsure how the symposium worked behind the scenes. It was funded by the crown. It was entirely possible Akkas received tickets because he was a member of the peerage, had no intention of going, and her own commitment to play nice was all in vain.
She’d had a lovely meal, though.
Bythethirddinner,conversation flowed freely. Over a dessert of macaroons and sugar biscuits, the topic of their animal counterparts was raised and debated at length. Nesrina found herself distracted by the lack of shadows on the lanky lord’s previously hollow cheeks. It appeared as though her constant pestering to take meals was working. He was looking less gaunt—angular, yes, but that was different.At least Queen Hevva will know her gold wasn’t spent in vain.
The duke laughed when Ataht and Della agreed he must be a snake, faint lines fanning from the corners of his happy eyes.
“Why a snake?” he asked.
“For your sometimes friendly, sometimes snappy demeanor. And your length, obviously,” Nes chimed in, waving her hand vertically to indicate his height.
“Length?” he smirked, lifting a brow.
“Snakes aren’t tall, they’re long. Consider it a compromise.”
He snorted.
“I think you’re an owl,” Ataht announced.
“Who?” Della asked.
“Miss Kiappa.”
The duke laughed, and she side-eyed him.
“Not an owl?” she checked. Apparently Akkas Kahoth disagreed.
“I’d say you’re more of a puppy.”
“What? Yappy and always underfoot?” she shot back, trying to preempt his sure-to-be-vexatious reasoning.
His lips pursed as he held back a smile, silvery eyes twinkling. “I was thinking more along the lines of precious and endlessly distracting.”
