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“I wanted to tell you, my lady,” she responded, fidgeting with the small obsidian pendant hanging at her throat, usually tucked beneath the collar of her castle livery. It was a cheap imitation of the eudorite necklace Riona wore, a way of marking thehelpersshe had among the staff. “But Aeron… He insisted we let the king inform you of his plan.”
“Why?” Riona asked, bewildered.
The elf’s expression softened. She took a step closer and said in a soft voice, “Because he couldn’t bear to break your heart, my lady. None of us could. You’ve endured so much these past few months, and we knew how happy you would be to return to your city. We couldn’t take that from you.”
Whatever reproach Riona had been about to give died on her tongue. Ophelia and the few others she paid to be her eyes and ears in the castle were more than her employees; many of them had become her friends. They were the one thing Riona had in this kingdom that was truly her own.
She rose and crossed the courtyard. “Thank you for trying to spare my feelings, but I cannot be blindsided the next time something of this magnitude arises.”
Ophelia dipped her head in respect. “Yes, my lady. I’m sorry.”
“Please call me Riona,” she said as she started down the corridor. Ophelia fell into step beside her. “You needn’t cling to court titles, my friend. I held your baby brother in my arms and sang to him when he was sick. We are more than noble and servant to each other.”
She smiled. “If you insist, Riona.”
“I do.”
Ophelia nodded and left, slipping into the banquet hall and melting into the crowd like a phantom. Riona paused on the threshold, dreading the hours ahead. The nobles’ faces were flushed with alcohol and merriment, and a bright, lively melody filled the hall. In her absence, the suitors had taken to dancing with ladies of the court. Luckily, no one seemed to have noticed her return yet. Riona stuck close to the wall as she made her way toward the far end of the room, glad to be spared the court’s attention, if only temporarily.
Just as she reached the platform where the musicians were playing, movement in her periphery caught her eye. She turned as Prince Auberon dropped into a low bow before her. “Lady Riona, would you honor me with a dance?” he asked, looking up at her with a charming grin.
I would rather follow my mother into the depths of the Tranquil Sea.
Riona bit back the words. As much as she detested the thought of spending even one second in the prince’s company, a single word from him could launch a hundred Erdurian ships and slaughter a thousand of her uncle’s soldiers. She took his hand. “The honor would be all mine.”
Prince Auberon led her to the center of the dance floor, and excited whispers rose from the courtiers as the musicians began to play a soft, slow song. He slipped an arm around her waist and held her close, his free hand clasping hers. With her heels, she was only a couple inches shorter than he, and they stood almost nose-to-nose. He grinned at her as they began to move in time with the music.
“Why do you smile so much?” she asked, keeping her voice low to preserve what little privacy they had among the other dancing couples.
“Why do I smile? My lady, you have spent far too much time with the unhappy creatures of the court if you find my good mood unusual. I am a guest in a foreign kingdom, eating the finest food and dancing with a beautiful woman. What is there to complain about?”
She leaned back, trying to maintain what little distance there was between them. “Beautiful? Careful, Prince Auberon. Your brother might think you’re trying to steal me away.”
“He might think so, but he would be wrong. It would be unseemly for me to seduce the woman my brother might one day marry. Fortunately, I happen to find you exceedingly repulsive.”
Riona couldn’t help the surprised laugh that escaped her. “Repulsive?”
“Oh, incredibly so. I prefer my women with bald patches and eleven fingers. Maybe a vestigial tail or two. You just don’t reach my lofty standards.”
“I’ll try not to cry myself to sleep tonight.”
Auberon nodded solemnly. “Do your best.”
Curse him, hewascharming, and that made him more dangerous than any other man in this room. Auberon had come here to help his brother win her hand in marriage. Every honeyed word out of his mouth was intended to break down her defenses. “My cousin told me you’re here to attend the negotiations. Is that true?”
“It is. I’ll serve Drystan once he ascends the throne, and he will expect me to travel and act on his behalf. Negotiations like these will become routine, and I intend to gain as much experience as I can. I doubt there are any more challenging negotiations than those between countries with as bloody a history as ours.”
“It helps when you sway the council to your side,” she responded, looking pointedly at where Lady Annabel and her husband were dancing. Both were giggling and stumbling, clearly drunk. She doubted they would remember much of the banquet come morning, save for the impression Auberon had made. He seemed the type that wasn’t easily forgotten.
“Please. That’s hardly an uncommon tactic. The only noteworthy thing about it is that Eamon and Valerian didn’t think of it.” He spun her under his arm. When they came together again, her breath caught as he pulled her flush against him. “I’m not going to lie—I will win over the court for my brother. He wishes to marry you, and I will serve him in any way I can. I will do anything for Erduria.”
Before she could respond, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “But I also get the added benefit of making Eamon jealous. Watch.”
He turned them in a slow circle, his cheek pressed to hers. Sure enough, the Kostori prince shot a murderous look at Auberon’s back as he waltzed past with Lady Annabel’s daughter. Riona laughed softly, and Prince Auberon drew back, wearing a knowing expression. “One would think you two were already married by the way he’s glaring at me. Has he burned a hole in the back of my doublet yet?”
“Not yet, but I suspect you won’t want to dance with me again, just to be safe.”
Prince Auberon dipped her low, his arms strong and steady around her. “I’ll take my chances,” he said softly, a crooked grin on his lips.
