Page 152 of The Crown’s Temptation

"Good work."

"Is she alright? Tamal will kill me if she even breathes wrong."

Teorin snorted. "Just a limp."

Dali stopped.

She looked at both of them. At the ease of it. At Nox's hand under Teorin's. At two people who had just watched the only thing she had ever loved thrown into a pit and were already talking about something else.

"Any bit of happiness you have," she said. "Any chance at a future you have."

She looked at them both until they looked back.

"You lost it the moment you threw mine away."

Then she walked out.

She had not stopped walking since.

Part Four

The East Wing

SEVRIN

The dining room at Kelsey Castle was smaller than the one at Rathmor Palace. Older. The table was dark wood, the chairs heavy, the candles already lit when he arrived.

He stopped in the doorway.

He did not recognize a single face in the room.

His body went cold. His eyes moved over the staff, the servers, the attendants at the walls, the woman pouring wine at the sideboard, and found nothing familiar. Not one of his people. Not one face he had placed or approved or seen before this moment.

Nox looked up from her seat. She read his expression and rolled her eyes. "Do not worry," she said. "I am not attempting to kill you or usurp you. Not yet, anyway. My plans still remain." She reached for her goblet of blood. "But for them to be effective no one can see how weak you are. Your staff cannot be trusted with that information. Mine can."

He came to Kelsey Castle so rarely that in truth he was unsure of the loyalty of the staff. So he nodded just slightly, then he sat down.

Aviaryn was already seated across from him, barefoot, examining her plate with the focused attention she applied to most things.

The food arrived. Steak, simply prepared. A decanter of blood beside each setting. A human stood near the wall.

Aviaryn looked at the decanter. Then at the human. Then back at the decanter.

"I would like mine poured," she said. “I do not wish to eat directly from the human.”

The human walked in front of Nox and held out his wrist. Nox bit delicately, a trickle of blood sliding down her chin.

It was an attractive sight, Sevrin had to admit. Though not as attractive as that time he had seen Asharin drink blood for the first time, the night of the Baron’s ball. It felt like just yesterday. Something in him went warm at the thought.

"Drink it as it is," Nox said, pulling him back to the present.

"I would like mine poured,” Aviaryn said, voice terse.

"I am aware of what you prefer."

"Then you are aware that I would like it poured. I do not like the smell of humans directly under my nose.”

Nox set down her fork. "Aviaryn⁠—"