Page 80 of A Veil of Gods and Kings

“Yes.”

I shifted towards him. “In the time I’ve been here, I’ve also found your attendants to be flirtatious.”

He took a swallow of his wine. “And?”

“And you’ve always turned them down?”

He raised his gaze to me, and some challenge flashed across the warm hazel of his eyes. “That’s just what I’m telling you. I’ve never been with any of these women.”

“These women… or any women?”

His face tightened, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer me. Then he shrugged. “Any women.”

I studied him for a heartbeat, the glass in my hand slippery. I tilted it side to side, letting the burgundy of the liquid splash around, catching the light. My words came like a breeze, drifting out on a breath. “You have attractive men in the palace as well.”

A muscle along Hyacinth’s jaw jumped. His gaze bore into mine and—something—crackled between the two of us like the tension that hummed through the air on a summer evening just before lightning bit against the dark, tearing the sky apart. Hyacinth cocked his head to the side. “I suppose that’s true.”

My heart pattered, but I cleared my throat, dropping back into my seat, a laugh filling my words. “Are you not going to tell me to leave the men alone?”

His eyebrows jumped up. “Do I need to?”

I met his gaze—the storm brewing in it—and smirked. “Yes.”

He remained quiet for several heartbeats, the murmuring and jangling of the dinner spilling between us, and that aching sharpness bit into the air again, snagging through all the voices humming around. He sighed and swallowed the last of his wine. “Leave all of my attendants alone, then.”

Something tangled up within me, big and heady and thunderous, like looking over the edge of a precipice and deciding to jump. I leaned in once more, dropping my voice to a rumble of a sound. “But, who then do you suggest I spend my downtime with if you’ve outlawed the entire palace?” I tilted in so close to him I swore I could hear the beating of his heart. His lips pursed, and I rolled the words around in my mouth before smiling and saying, “Have any suggestions, Prince?”

He paused, speechless, and I smirked.

He wasn’t the only one who could achieve that.

For a moment we could have sat alone, a million miles from the palace, swept away together, hidden in shadows, gray clouds trembling with a rising storm. Hyacinth’s expression brightened, his lips parted like he might speak.

Then he broke his eye contact, shrugged, and dropped against his seat. “I suppose that’s your problem to figure out, golden boy.”

I scowled—golden boy, indeed—and drained my glass of wine, setting it on the table with a clink.

27

Epiphany

Silverware clattered, lipstick staining glasses. Candles danced, their sweet beeswax smell winding in with the savory aroma of dinner.

So many people spoke to me.

“You look stunning, Princess.”

“Your mother would be so proud.”

“My nephew plans to attend your presentation. He’s inheriting the governorship of Segion.”

I smiled and answered questions and tried to maintain eye contact.

But sweat dripped down my back, grazing against the beaded gown. Temi snagged my hand beneath the table, and I squeezed her fingers so tight she likely lost feeling, but she never pulled away.

As soon as was polite, I rose, bowed, and slipped out of the dining room, through the first door to the servant’s halls I could find, and then outside.

My breaths came out in pants.