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She looked well rested and coolly composed. Guarded, which wasn’t surprising. He’d all but abandoned her here. She lifted her chin and stared him down as if she belonged here and he had some explaining to do, dead father or not.
Ten more minutes and he’d be at the end of the line and facing her and the daughter he’d barely come to terms with.
* * *
If this was protocol, Ana didn’t know her part in it, other than to hover by the foot of the stairs with Sophia at her side and wait for Casimir to approach them.
Casimir’s father was dead. Byzenmaach had a new king and he was it, as evidenced by the security staff who accompanied him. Hard-eyed men and women in dark suits, they took up positions in corridors, by doorways and on the stairs.
Not alarming at all.
Cas made a point of greeting every person waiting to speak with him. He shook every hand and accepted a lone poppy from a wizened woman who couldn’t possibly still work for him. He patted the woman’s hand and whispered something that made her smile, and then he reached Silas and his wife, Lor, and Ana was surprised at the strength of the embrace they shared. Words passed in that embrace, none of them spoken. Whispers of the boy he’d once been and exactly where such a boy might have found a comforting hand.
And then he turned his gaze on her and Sophia and the conflict in his eyes rendered her silent.
She was here at his request, sure enough, but she had no idea if he wanted her and Sophia where he could see them.
He smiled at her then, a touch of wry amusement in the curve of it, and in that instant became the man she’d once known.
‘My condolences,’ she said, so stilted and formal, but she didn’t know what else to say.
‘Thank you,’ he said quietly. ‘Ana. Sophia. Once again I must apologise for leaving you to your own devices. It appears my skills as a host are gravely overrated.’
‘We have puppies,’ Sophia said by way of reply, and it was the right thing to say. Or perhaps it simply wasn’t the wrong thing to say.
‘Do we?’ he said.
‘Do you want to see them?’ her daughter asked.
‘Yes.’
‘They’re Jelly’s,’ Sophia added. ‘They’re very special. Lor says you named Jelly the First when you were a kid.’
‘I did,’ he said.
‘This mother dog is Jelly the Eighth. Which means one of the puppies has to be called Jelly the Ninth.’
‘Have you chosen which one yet?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’ Sophia rushed ahead and then stopped abruptly at the first security guard, glancing back at Cas to see if he was following and then at Ana. Or perhaps she was simply looking for permission to proceed.
Ana stood frozen, not knowing her role in any of this. And then Casimir turned to her and pinned her with a questioning gaze as well. ‘Coming?’ he asked.
Yes. Even with the way she usually drew public gaze, she was hard pressed not to flinch beneath the weight of this crowd’s gaze. Wariness. Suspicion. Not from Silas or Lor, who she’d spent most of the day with, but from others, yes. She could feel the crawl of judgement on her skin.
It made her straighten her shoulders and lift her chin as she walked towards him. ‘Thank you for coming back here this evening,’ she said when she reached him.
‘Did you think I wouldn’t?’
‘I didn’t know. I know nothing of the duties of a king.’
They reached the kitchen, not that it was like any other kitchen Ana had ever been in. This kitchen had storerooms of its own and a long central bench. Three hearths, only one of which was functional. One of the other fireplaces held Jelly the wolfhound and her puppies. Sophia approached them with a confidence borne of innocence, dropping first to her knees and then to her belly, her ponytail off-centre again and her too-short jeans hiking halfway up her calves. She wasn’t wearing shoes. Who wore shoes inside a house?
Unless, of course, the house was a royal fortress.
‘This one’s Little Jelly,’ Sophia said, gently stroking one of the puppies while Mama Jelly looked on indulgently.
Wolfhounds were placid and tolerant, Ana had decided. This one was, at any rate.
‘How can you tell?’ Casimir asked.
‘She has a white tip on her tail, just like Big Jelly.’
