“Allow me to escort you.”
Thea smiled like it was an offer, not an order. “That would be lovely, Consort.”
The consort closed the distance between them and offered their arm. Thea took it. It was a slight delay, nothing more, she told herself. She counted her breaths four in, seven out, three in, eight out, careful not to form a pattern that could betray her nerves while still trying to steady herself as the consort led her through the halls.
All she had to do was follow Quinn to the gardens and wander about them for a while, then slip out from the palace as planned.
The trouble was, Thea did know the way to the frost gardens. And they weren’t going there.
She fought to keep her voice light and level as they turned another corner. “Consort, is it possible we passed the gardens?”
“We did,” Quinn confirmed.
A chill went down Thea’s spine, but she didn’t let herself falter. What was this about? They couldn’t know what she was up to. She had been careful. She wasalwayscareful. “Did I misunderstand? I thought you were escorting me to them.”
“I said I’d escort you. I never specified to where.” A pause. “The queen wishes to see you.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Samara
At five to midnight,Cosette led us from our rooms to a new wing of the palace.
Raphael had done a phenomenal job erasing my concerns for the duration of the time we’d shared a bath. I’d dressed with the warm current of his feelings strumming through me. It was strange, leaving the bond open when I’d worked to keep it closed away for so long. Strange but comforting. A connection.
“Right on time,” Julian said when we entered. “Thank you, Cosette.”
Cosette pressed a hand to her chest and bowed before closing the doors behind us. Julian’s dining room was far more intimate than any of the other rooms we’d been in. I’d assumed there would be a long table, like all the other times, but this defied that expectation. There were doors on three sides of the room, which was decorated in darker colors, a deep blue and emerald green, atypical for the style of most of the castle. It made the space feel even smaller. The table was round, with four chairs, a long, lush tablecloth covering it.
“Join me.”
Raphael held out my chair, the one farthest from Julian, before seating himself at my right. Julian snapped his fingers and the doors burst open. Servants flew into the room, carrying tray after tray of succulent dishes. They piled them high on the table until it reached an almost comical height.
“What’s this?” Were they expecting someone else?
Julian frowned at me over the mountain of food. “My hospitality, of course. I did invite you for dinner.”
“But none of us eat food.” I looked between the two of them and the food. Platters of fruit, cured meat, a roast, vegetables prepared in oil. It was a wealth of waste. In the past, I would’ve done anything for a fraction of the food here. But instead of an ache from missing the ability to eat like I usually felt, I was simply disgusted by the excess.
“Would you like me to drink someone’s blood? Yours, perhaps?”
“Would you like me to stab you with the dagger strapped to my thigh?” I wasn’t sure where it came from, but I couldn’t make myself regret the words. He’d been just a bit too comfortable taking liberties before, and I’d had enough of it.
Julian laughed heartily. I imagined from his view: A little spunk was entertaining. He had no idea I could back it up—I had used my magic to compel him only hours ago.
“Yes, yes, I see that privilege is only afforded to one. Still, can’t blame a male for trying. You smell delicious”—he flashed a wide grin—“aside from the stink of my brother all over you.”
“You’re determined to make this as tedious as possible,” Raphael sighed.
They might have been twins, but Raphael played the role of beleaguered elder sibling as well as Julian played the infuriating little brother. Despite everything, I wanted to study their dynamic, to understand what it might mean for them. Last night, we’d had other topics to discuss, and the bath I’d sharedwith Raphael had effectively distracted me from prying further into how they had both come to be kings of neighboring nations. But I was desperately curious to understand this side of Raphael.
Then again, if I left them to bicker, there might well be blood drawn before dawn.
Safer to return to the prior topic. “I don’t see the point in all this food if none of us can eat.”
“I’m being hospitable.” Julian sounded sincerely confused.
It was a simple flex of power, I realized. He’d had servants prepare food for hours for guests who wouldn’t eat. And guests of status—the food really was befitting of kings. Mortal ones who could eat, anyway.
