Rebekah stepped up to Roa’s left, dressed in gold. Her kaftan was nearly the exact shade as Dax’s tunic, and her black hair was done up in an elaborate knot work of braids. Tucked into her sash was a dagger, its blade hidden in an embossed silver sheath.
Roa’s own attire was much simpler in style. In an attempt to blend in and more easily evade her guards, she’d donned a kaftan, choosing a shade of pink that seemed to be in style lately and therefore more likely to be worn by other women in attendance. She wore no jewelry. Nothing that would draw the eye.
“Rumor is he’s bed every girl in his court,” Rebekah said, ignoring Lirabel as she nodded toward the king—who was half-drunk and flirting with Firgaard’s wealthiest daughters. Jas stood beside him, watching his cup. “There are bets on how many bastards he’s sired.”
Roa flinched and tried not to look at Lirabel—who hadn’t started showing yet, thank the stars. Essie’s grip on Roa’s shoulder tightened, piercing the skin. She then flew to Lirabel, as if to reassure her.
“There are even bets on whether or not he’s beddedyou.”
The anger emanating from Lirabel was palpable now. Roa, not wanting to give her friend away, stared straight ahead.
Most of Firgaard suspected Roa and Dax’s marriage was unconsummated, but there was no proof for or against. Their wedding had happened in a war camp on the eve of a revolt.
“An unconsummated marriage is a precarious position for any king. A weak king especially.”
Roa knew this was true. Dax’s reign was a frail one, and he needed more than a consummated marriage. He needed an heir.
“Your point?” Roa said as Lirabel reached for her hand, squeezing once.
“He’s a man like any other.” Rebekah leaned in closer. “He won’t wait forever.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Roa saw the commandant moving in. But Rebekah would have to be mad to try to harm the queen here, surrounded by so many witnesses.
“One day,” Rebekah murmured, “he will grow impatient andtakewhat he needs from you.”
Roa thought of that day in Amina’s stables. Of the unclaimed kiss she owed him.
I’ll come to collect when it suits me.
“And if he can’t,” said Rebekah, at Roa’s shoulder now, “he will dispose of you.”
Roa glanced up into the girl’s dark brown eyes. They studied each other, and just for a heartbeat, Roa wondered if Rebekah had heard about Sirin’s attack.
“I’d say she doesn’t have to worry quite yet,” Lirabel interrupted, watching as the king smiled down at a young woman in a bright yellow kaftan. The girl’s ringlets sprang softly outward, haloing her face and shoulders. Dax’s gaze fixed on her like she was the sun and he needed to soak up all her warmth. “The king keeps himself well distracted. Wouldn’t you say, Roa?”
Roa was surprised at the lack of bitterness in Lirabel’s words. Shouldn’t she be annoyed Dax had forgotten about her and her baby?
Rebekah didn’t seem to hear. She stared at the king, her gaze almost ravenous. Like a lion watching an unsuspecting deer.
Suddenly, the sound of drawn steel came from behind them. All three girls whirled, bracing themselves for a threat. From Lirabel’s shoulder, Essie spread her wings in warning.
A draksor with a thick scar running from the corner of his mouth to his cheekbone stood mere steps from Roa... with three shining blades pointed at his throat.
Two of them belonged to Safire. The third belonged to Celeste.
“Step away from the queen,” Safire said coolly.
“This isn’t a battlefield,” Rebekah hissed. “Lower your weapons. Garnet is on my staff.”
Safire ignored her, keeping her gaze on Garnet. “If he’s on your staff, he should know he can’t approach the queen, armed as he is. Don’t you train them?”
Garnet smiled a tight smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. Lifting his hands, he took a careful step back.
“I won’t tolerate this kind of barbarism in my home,” Rebekah growled, her attention fixed on the king’s cousin—whom she was starting to circle. “Since when are you a house guard, Safire? Who’s fulfilling the duties of commandant while you harass my guests?”
Safire let Rebekah circle her, calm as steel, while Roa’s other guards moved in to defend her should she need it.
“You’ve never been very good at this game, have you?” Rebekah’s voice lowered to a dangerous purr. “Poor Safire. It’s your skral mother’s blood in your veins. It’s why your place will never be among us.”
