Page 153 of On Brutal Thrones

I grin.

Ivor laughs so hard he starts coughing.

There are few things in this world that give me as much pleasure as watching Hilda be forced to relax.

She and Ivor kept this place alive when there was almost nothing left to save and asked nothing in return. They spent too many years worrying about me and Lyra, the manor, the crops, the animals, and every person living on these lands. Now they get silk clothes, expensive wine, and someone else washing the dishes. They deserve all of it.

We all do.

Young servants move easily between the tables, replacing empty platters before anyone can ask and filling glasses from silver pitchers. I linger beside my chair, taking another sip of wine as I watch them.

“Are you going to join us, darling?” Talon asks, patting the empty chair.

I turn to find all three of my men looking at me. Every time. I don’t know why that still gets me.

Talon smiles, and Fenric pulls out my chair. I’m about to sit when Thorian catches my free hand and draws me against his side.

Home. The word comes so easily now.

“Here you are, darling.” Thorian pours me a glass of deep red wine and brushes his fingers over mine as he gives it to me.

I take my place and look out over the room.

Desserts cover an entire table. Tiny fruit tarts gleam beneath honey glaze, cakes are layered with cream and berries, and bowls overflow with sugared nuts. Then there are the chocolates dusted with gold.

Actual gold.

On food.

The first time they served them, I'd demanded to know why anyone would eat perfectly good gold, but Talon ate three while I was complaining.

Never again will anyone at this estate stare at a nearly empty pantry and wonder how we're going to survive winter. That thought alone is worth more to me than every jewel locked away upstairs.

“Are you ready?” Fenric asks softly.

His hand settles against my lower back.

Thorian rises and comes to stand next to me.

I look at my husbands. Even after months, the word husbands still makes happiness bloom inside me.

Talon catches me staring. “If you're going to look at us like that, this feast is going to be delayed.”

Heat rushes into my cheeks.

Fenric laughs.

“Behave,” Thorian tells him.

Talon looks offended. “I wasn't the one looking at her like she was a piece of meat I wanted to undress and do naughty things to.”

“I hate all of you.”

Three smiles answer me.

Liars, every one of them.

I raise my glass, and the room gradually quiets. “Thank you all for celebrating Solvane with us.”