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His grave expression made it clear which answer he considered more likely. “Considering she wasin the roomwith Cathal when he was killed, it’s unlikely she managed to lose the assassin and flee the city. If she’s alive, there’s no reason why she wouldn’t go to the guards for protection. She has no reason to hide.”
Unless she knows something about the king or council that would warrant her death,a voice that sounded suspiciously like Auberon’s whispered in Riona’s mind.
They arrived at the banquet hall just then, sparing Riona from having to respond. She followed Amaris and Domhnall to the dais, where her father and the king were already standing, speaking with their heads bent and voices low. A flash of movement caught her eye—Duke Valerian leading the suitors into the hall. When their eyes met, his expression brightened. She started to smile, but faltered when she saw Auberon file into the room behind him. The prince was dressed in his usual finery, but his cheek and the side of his forehead were scraped raw, shadowed with faint bruises. Even so, he offered the courtiers a polished smile as he crossed the room to greet some members of the council.
Prince Domhnall pulled out a chair for Riona, but she waved him away with an apologetic look. “Go ahead and take your seat. I’ll be back shortly.”
Before he could object, she rounded the head table and descended the steps of the dais, brushing aside the courtiers who tried to speak with her as she made her way toward Auberon. He was standing beside one of the wide stone pillars, smirking as he wove some tale that made Lady Annabel and her husband chuckle.
“Don’t worry about him, my lady,” a voice said from somewhere to her right. Riona turned to find Prince Drystan approaching her, a goblet of wine in each hand. He offered her one, which she accepted with murmured thanks. “The fool had the excellent idea to overindulge in a tavern last night and brawl with someone on his way back to the castle this morning.”
“Is he alright?” She knew Auberon frequented the taverns along the King’s Road to provide a cover for his comings and goings, but as far as she knew, he had never gotten drunk. “Do you know with whom he fought?”
“Some man on the street. I don’t think Auberon even got his name. From what he said, it sounded like nothing more than a drunken scuffle, and he swore that nothing more would come of it.” Drystan shook his head in disappointment. “I want to assure you that it is not in his character to behave so poorly. Auberon can be…impulsive…but he is neither a drunkard nor a brawler. I hope you can forgive him. He is here as a representative of Erduria, and he has proven himself an embarrassment.”
“We’ve all made mistakes, Your Highness. From the look of it, he’s trying to earn your forgiveness by charming the court on your behalf,” Riona said, watching him continue to chat with Annabel and her husband. Lord Farquar and Lord Tristan had joined their small group, along with Prince Eamon. Even though Auberon kept the crooked grin on his lips, Riona did not fail to notice the dark look he shot Eamon every time the opportunity presented itself.
Drystan nodded. “Yes, and it’s hard to stay angry at him when he is so dedicated to his duty. I suspect he was feeling frustrated with the lack of progress in the negotiations, and he sought a reprieve. I can hardly blame him for that.”
Riona took a drink of wine, savoring the taste of the spices on her tongue. “My uncle has been fighting your people since the day he was coronated. The war is all he has ever known. It is near impossible for him to see you as anything but the enemy.”
Drystan took a half step closer, a grin on his lips and mischief in his eyes. At that moment, he looked so much like his brother that it made Riona’s heart stutter. They didn’t look as alike in appearance as she’d initially thought—she’d come to know them well enough to see that Drystan’s hair lacked his brother’s auburn strands, that his bone structure was softer and more refined, that his eyes had no hint of Auberon’s blue—but his manner was entirely his brother’s as he said, “And you, Lady Riona? Do you still think of us as your enemies?”
She held herself perfectly still, fighting the urge to glance at Auberon. A traitorous answer sprang to her lips, burning like a brand, but she refused to say it aloud. She certainly didn’t trust Auberon, and she would never forgive Erduria for all that the Empire had taken from her and her family, but the past few weeks had changed the way she viewed the princes.
“I…don’t know,” Riona admitted. She was spared having to say more by the arrival of a fleet of servants from the kitchen, carrying platters of food and drink.
Drystan offered her his arm as the rest of the nobles and royals began taking their seats. “Well, I’m glad to hear that your answer isn’t an outright yes. Perhaps there is hope for us yet.”
Riona merely nodded, uncertain how to respond. As they walked the length of the room and climbed the steps of the dais, her fingers drifted up to the eudorite pendant at her throat. How could she speak and laugh with the Erdurian princes, knowing that their navy had sent her mother’s ship to the depths of the Tranquil Sea? Knowing that their father likely ordered the breach in the laws of neutrality? Guilt sank its claws into her heart as Drystan guided her to the head table and pulled out her seat for her. She sat and forced a small, grateful smile.
“I would be honored if you would grant me the first dance tonight, Lady Riona,” Prince Drystan said. “Allow me to give the court something to talk about besides my brother’s less than regal appearance.”
“Of course, Your Highness. I look forward to it.”
Her father leaned over as Prince Drystan rounded the table and sat in his assigned place. “It looks like you’re starting to come around to the idea of marrying one of the suitors,” he whispered. “I’m glad to see it, my love.”
“Do not mistake kindness for acceptance,” she responded as servants began setting plates down along the length of the table. “I would sooner die than marry an Erdurian.”
Her father flinched. “In all likelihood, you will not be forced into marriage with Prince Drystan. Your uncle doesn’t trust them. As desperately as I would like to see the war ended peacefully, I would do anything to avoid sending my only daughter into that den of vipers Emperor Hyperion calls a court. I nearly lost you to Nicholas Comyn’s cutthroat court, and I will not lose you to another.”
The musicians began to play, and they shifted to lighter topics as servants moved throughout the room, setting down plates and goblets of wine. Riona half-listened to the suitors’ conversation as she ate, watching out of the corner of her eye for a glimpse of Aeron. She hadn’t seen the elf at all over the past several days, and she wanted to find out if he or any of her other helpers had gotten any closer to discovering Faylen’s whereabouts.
It felt like an eternity passed before the meal drew to a close. She ate and chatted with Eamon and the others, forcing a smile, forcing a laugh, all while waiting for a glimpse of Aeron. A few of the servants in the banquet hall wore markers of loyalty to her, but she couldn’t risk asking them about the missing prostitute within earshot of the suitors and the royal family.
“You look troubled, my lady,” Prince Drystan murmured as they danced, his hand resting on the curve of her waist. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”
He raised a brow. “I may not have my brother’s knack for reading people, but even I know that was a lie. Is it to do with our conversation earlier? I’m sorry if my mention of the war upset you. You have lost more than most to the fighting, and I should have spoken with more tact.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s…everything.”
As the prince turned her under his arm, Riona’s eyes met her uncle’s. He was still sitting at the center of the head table beside the queen, and the dispassionate way he was studying them sent a chill down her spine.Is Auberon right?she wanted to ask him, hating that the prince’s suspicions had dug their way under her skin.Do you know the truth about Cathal’s murder?She didn’t want to believe that her uncle was responsible for the murder of the Treasurer and the servant, but how else could one explain the fact that the guards had foundnothingin the weeks since the first banquet? Who else would have had the power to terrify Cathal into attempting to flee the city? Why wouldn’t he have gone to the king for protection?
She turned back to Drystan. “I’m not sure who I can trust anymore.”
The prince’s gaze drifted to the king. “Then you are wiser than you know, my lady.”
