Roa turned to face the tall young woman beside her.
“Councillor Silva,” she said in cold greeting.
“Please, just Rebekah. Silva is my father’s name.” The girl was even more beautiful up close, with elegant cheekbones, wide brown eyes, and long black lashes. Like a tapestry woven in the richest threads. “But where is your pet bird?”
The wordpetmade Roa stiffen.
“Essie doesn’t like places where she can’t see the sky.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly. Roa ached with her sister’s absence as she looked to the domed roof above them.
“I see.” Rebekah flashed that sweet smile and changed the subject. “I’m hosting a dinner tomorrow night. I’d like for you and Dax to come.”
A warning bell chimed inside Roa. Rebekah had used the king’s name, not his title. And she hadn’t bowed to Roa, as was the custom. More than this, she’d made it perfectly clear mere moments ago that she didn’t consider a lowly scrublander girl worthy of reverence—even if she was queen.
So why was she inviting Roa to dinner?
Roa tried to think of a compelling reason to refuse, whenDax called her name. She turned to find the king walking back toward her. His dark blue tunic showed off his tall frame and broad shoulders. But the look on his face was a complicated mixture of annoyance and... fear?
Fear of what?
“Bekah.” He nodded curtly, stepping up beside them. “Cornering my wife, I see.”
Bekah.The girl before them winced at the nickname. Or possibly the wordsmy wife.
Roa looked from Rebekah to Dax and back. Clearly there was history here.
But what kind?
“You haven’t come to see my father in months.” Rebekah’s attention was on the king now. “He’s beginning to take offense.”
Dax slid his hand around Roa’s wrist.
Her skin prickled at his touch. She twisted free.
“I’ve been a little... preoccupied.” Dax’s hand paused awkwardly in midair before falling to his side. “Howisyour father?” His eyes were on Rebekah, but he didn’t sound interested in the answer.
“The same.” She seemed almost sad about this. “Still collecting his little relics.”
Dax reached for Roa’s wristagain, this time tapping her bone with his thumb. Twice.
Roa looked down at his fingers.
What is he doing?
“You know how Father is. Spending his time on things no one else sees the value of.” Rebekah looked to Dax’s grip onRoa. “In fact, a shipment arrived just a few days ago. If you came to visit, I’m sure he’d love to show you its contents.”
Roa was about to twist her arm away again, when her thoughts snagged.
A shipment.
She remembered Asha’s letter, still lying on the floor beneath the bed.
Thatwas where she knew the councillor’s name from. Roa could picture the black ink scrawled elegantly across the parchment:Three days ago, a shipment from Darmoor was due to arrive at Baron Silva’s stronghold.
It was the message Roa had never delivered to Dax.
“You’ll have to give Baron Silva my apologies,” Dax said, gripping Roa’s wrist tighter. Again, his thumb tapped. “Tell him I’ll visit as soon as I’m able.”
“How about tomorrow night?” Rebekah pressed. “I’m hosting a dinner at the stronghold. Father asked specifically for you—both of you—to be in attendance. He very much wants to meet the new... queen.”
