Annaïs, however, wasn’t so easily moved.
“Wise words,” she murmured, reaching for her own goblet. She swirled the wine within, the movement languid, deliberate. “It seems you’ve already grown comfortable in your place here.”
Reiya inclined her head, presenting a picture of composed politeness. “I find it best not to mistake readiness for comfort, my lady.”
The shift in Annaïs’s expression was nearly imperceptible—the slightest tightness at the corners of her mouth, the flicker of a challenge behind dark eyes. For all her mastery of courtly games, she wasn’t accustomed to being parried.
The king cleared his throat, cutting through the quiet tension. “You are both well-spoken ladies, and I have no doubt the court will find many occasions to benefit from your insights.”
His gaze lingered on Annaïs a fraction longer than necessary before settling on Reiya. “It is good to see such harmony among Asadia’s finest.”
Reiya lowered her lashes in a measured nod.
Harmony. She didn’t believe it for a moment.
Annaïs was far from finished. Whatever her game was, she played it with purpose.
Reiya’s gaze drifted briefly toward the far end of the table, where Lady Neda sat, her expression unreadable as she sipped her wine. Even at a distance, Reiya sensed the quiet watchfulness beneath her detached facade. Lady Neda knew the court’s games as well as anyone.
Had she already discerned Annaïs’s plan?
As the servants brought out trays of sugared dates and citrus tarts, Reiya turned back toward Annaïs, meeting her gaze across the table. They both smiled, their expressions pleasant—as though at an impasse.
But before she could speak, Annaïs lifted her hands in a graceful clap, the chiming of her rings like the first peal of a bell. The gathering stilled, instinctively drawn to her as she stared with an expression of effortless delight.
“Princess,” she said, her voice warm, lilting, perfectly pitched to carry across the table. “I have the mostmarvelloussuggestion.”
The faint tinkle of cutlery being set down punctuated the pause. Reiya regarded her carefully, keeping her expression composed, her curiosity mild.
“Oh?”
Annaïs leaned forward, the glint in her dark eyes a touch too mischievous to be wholly innocent. “A horse race through the desert. Just a friendly contest between us. You’ve been on horseback for weeks during your journey, have you not? And I’ve heard your new mare, Shivanar, is a marvel. We simply must see her in her element.”
Interest buzzed among the courtiers. The suggestion was playful on the surface, but Reiya wasn’t fooled.
A contest in court was never merely a contest.
Further down the table, Lady Neda spoke before Reiya could respond, her voice lined with concern.
“Surely Princess Reiyana is still exhausted from her long journey. It would hardly be fair to ask such a thing so soon.”
Her words rippled through the gathering. A few courtiers nodded in agreement.
Annaïs turned toward Lady Neda with a smile that was all honey and silk, sweet enough to hide the blade beneath.
“Such thoughtfulness, Lady Neda. I imagine it’s a trait you’ve had ample opportunity to refine over the years.”
The veiled insult was delivered so lightly that many might have missed it, but not Reiya.
Neither did Lady Neda.
She caught the barely perceptible wince before the consort schooled her features into careful neutrality.
Annaïs turned back to Reiya, as though the exchange had never happened. “After all, the Princess has spent weeks proving her mettle on the road. A friendly race should be a delightful change of pace.”
The challenge had been set—not just to test Reiya’s skill, but her place.
For a moment, the tension in the gathering thickened. Then, with deliberate slowness, Reiya picked up her napkin, dabbing her lips before folding it neatly. She lifted her gaze, putting on a smile.
