“I’m sorry.”
When his stare met mine again, a strange emotion flickered across his face. Without warning, he nipped at my finger. I pulled my hand back, a surprised smile playing on my lips. He shook his head, then turned to the tub, unfastening his trousers.
I took that as a sign to leave and retreated to my dressing room to slip into a nightgown. My heart felt light, a rare happiness settling over me.
That night, my dreams were filled with thoughts of Sainte.
Chapter 19
Iexpected the high court to consist mostly of nobles, and therefore, after last night’s festivities, anticipated them to be late in rising.
I was wrong.
Summoned before dawn, even Sainte groaned. I missed my opportunity to speak with Anderz, who sent word he would meet me there. My handmaids rushed to dress me and make me presentable, while Sainte donned his armor and combed his short, dark hair.
We hurried along the corridors, led by a servant until we reached a set of large wooden doors flanked by four soldiers.
“Her Highness, Princess Elspeth,” he announced with a bow as he stepped through.
I followed and steeled my expression to mask my shock. Instead of a handful of high court members as I expected, nearly fifty people surrounded an enormous stone table. The size of it seemed impractical. I’d wager servants had to crawl across it to clean its center.
“Princess, we have been eagerly awaiting your arrival.” Anderz stood, motioning to the empty seat beside him.
I inclined my head and walked with quick strides to my place, our footsteps echoing in the silent room. I sat next to a young woman with golden hair. Though petite, her posture exuded inner strength. She nodded and smiled, and I returned the gesture before I glanced around the many faces.
I didn’t see Adastrus, but my gaze locked onto Leihim, whose sharp eyes watched me intently. He flashed a bright smile, which I returned with a tight-lipped nod. Anderz took his seat as a man far to my left spoke.
“Having passed two rites, we have requested your presence during our high court meetings. It is fitting that ourpotentialfuture ruler makes informed decisions.”
“And where is Prince Regent Adastrus?” Leihim inquired.
He asked what I wouldn’t have been brave enough to. And by that bright, cheery grin plastered on his cheeks, it seemed he knew it.
“As you well know, Master Hinyte, he is far too busy managing the kingdom to honor us with his presence,” the older man replied, resting his hands on his large belly.
“He trusts his advisors to inform him of any… areas of concern,” a woman added.
Her skin, pale as snow, contrasted with her dark appearance. Hair the color of fresh ink framed her hooded brown eyes, giving them a deeper, mysterious shade. Black robes concealed her figure, and she wore her locks braided and piled high, which added an air of elegance.
The room buzzed as nobles and council members clustered in animated discussions about trade and law. Conversations flowed about the success of breeding wild sheep in captivity and the advantages of farming their wool instead of hunting them for pelts. Another group debated the poor yields from food plots in one district and negotiated trades with other districts to alleviate the shortage. I tuned out, catching snippets of a debate about changing the color scheme in the castle’s main entryway and the expenses involved.
Adastrus’ absence made sense now. The meeting dragged on, half the counselors dozing in their seats. Leihim, however, leaned back, his keen eyes observing everyone. He resembled Anderz in this way, always alert. His careful nature ensured everything stayed within his sight.
I felt fortunate to have Counselor Dyre on my side. Even though I hadn’t pegged down his motives for helping me without promise of reward, he proved to be loyal to my cause. He studied the councilwoman speaking, golden eyes focused. Only his long fingers moved, tapping against his thigh under the table. Otherwise, he remained still, not a gray hair out of place.
“What of Ambassador Piers?” someone asked.
Anderz shifted, snaring my attention. His gaze narrowed on the noble who spoke, and I followed suit. The man, with a peppered gray beard, leaned back in his seat, exuding an air of relaxation as he surveyed the table.
“Dead.”
A chair slammed onto all four legs, drawing my line of sight toward the youngest councilman—his face still bore traces of boyish charm.
“How do we know?” another pressed.
“His head arrived by messenger last night.”
“A man can’t live without a head,” someone muttered.
