“Here,” Vayden said, motioning to a couple of the men and women around him. With their help, he shifted the tables out of the way so the Ephrians could join them away from the fray of departing members. “We’ll wait here until the storm has passed.”
Pressed close in the narrow space, Auden turned to Deckard. “I want to apologize,” he said. “I didn’t realize you all felt so bullied into our cause. It was never our—”
“Oh, come off it, Audy,” Rafferty interrupted, a wily grin on his lips. “We don’t care about that. What we don’t appreciate is being herded like some unruly flock of sheep.”
Thom gave a firm nod. “We believe in your cause—”
“Speak for yourself,” Rafferty interrupted.
Thom gave him a dismissive frown before turning back to Auden. “We just didn’t fully know what it was until this evening.”
Resplendent in her scarlet gown, Ilain elbowed him. “You could have asked.”
He smirked at her. “Affairs of state aren’t my preferred topic of conversation. Nice dress, by the way. It really sets off your—” His eyes darted to her cleavage for a spare second. “Charming wit.”
“Why, thank you, darling,” Ilain said, brushing her fingers along the beaded bodice. “It was a gift from an admirer.”
Vayden scoffed. “A bribe is more like it,” he said.
“It’s only a bribe if the inducement in question influences the decision of the individual it’s intended to persuade,” she returned. “And it will not.”
“Bribery, eh?” Rafferty sniggered, hopping up to sit atop the nearby table. “Who’s trying to induce your favor, lady flame?”
“Major Olsen,” Ilain said.
Ethenn’s brow furrowed. “Wasn’t he one of the Warriors who stood up earlier?” he asked.
Ilain sent him a suggestive glance. “He was indeed.”
“Olsen has been in love with Lainy for the past fifteen years,” Vayden said casually. “She just doesn’t care to return the feeling.”
“Love is a loose term,” Ilain said flatly. “He wants to be Bonded, and I’m one of the few remaining candidates not spoken for.”
“Speaking of...” Vayden murmured, then smiled as Lieutenant Lohen approached. “Welcome to the party,naladar.”
The lieutenant gave him a flat stare, though her dark eyes twinkled with humor as she slipped in at Isla’s side. She said something in Schonese that made Vayden, Isla, and Reyana laugh. Then she gave a quick scan of the Ephrians. “The night’s festivities are proceeding at The Rook,” she said. “And Imelda, the tavern’s owner, requested I inform you all that the drinks of our Ephrian champions are on the house.”
“Free drinks?” Rafferty said, then catapulted off the table. “What are we waiting for?”
Though Evylin would usually be excited at the prospect of such an evening of frivolity, she couldn’t quite find her smile. All through the exchange, Deckard had grown more and more tense by her side, his grip on her hand ever tightening. Whatever her intentions, she’d made a mistake mentioning the Bonding. She owed him an apology for pushing him into the choice.
While most of the crowd had exited the hall, Vayden, Isla, and Lohen had to stop a few stragglers from approaching them. They left through the back door, the cold night air prickling their exposed skin. Evylin struggled to get a breath in as they walked across the courtyard. She thought to pull Deckard to the side to tell him they should return and find the archminister. They could take it back. They didn’t have to Bond.
But as Vayden opened a door to their right and Isla guided their troop inside, Deckard’s fingers tightened once more, drawing Evylin ahead toward the Crimson Clover.
While their friends disappeared into the tavern, Evylin let him divert their path. He was right. They needed to talk and figure this out. They passed throughthe kitchen and the halls to the foyer, proceeding up the stairs. She didn’t bother finding excuses along the way. She would apologize, and they would work out how best to explain the situation to Fishere.
They weren’t ready to Bond.
Deckard released his grip on Evylin to unlock the door. Then he set a hand to her lower back, ushering her inside.
Feeling the agitation in his sharp movements, Evylin began her apology as he began to shut the door. “Jonn...” The words stuck in her throat, and she had to swallow them down.
The door latched, and he turned the lock.
Trying again, Evylin made sure her voice was filled with earnestness as she said, “Jonn, I’m so sorry.”
Deckard faced her, his brow drawn low. “You’re sorry?”
