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Lord Winslow nodded and slipped an arm around her waist, allowing her to lean against him. “Of course, my lady. Goodnight, Your Highness. Lord Tristan. We will continue this discussion at a later time.”
They wandered off, and as soon as they were out of earshot, Lord Tristan leaned in close. “Your clever words may be working on some of the weaker members of the council, Your Highness, but I see through this little game you’re playing. I may not care for Prince Eamon or his country, but I don’t trust Erdurians. Deceit is in your blood.”
Auberon smiled. “Ask Eamon about that boy. Then you shall see whether I am lying.”
ChapterThirty-Four
The Lady
Something changed over the course of the banquet. It hadn’t been immediate, but by the time the night started to draw to a close, it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. On the surface, everything looked the same—the courtiers milled about in their small groups, the servants cleared away the goblets of wine, and the musicians played a lively melody—but the tension settled around her like a too-tight bodice. Riona finished her dance with Duke Valerian, dipped into a curtsy, and then joined Amaris and Prince Domhnall where they stood at the rear of the room, near the platform where the musicians sat.
“What happened?” she whispered. “Did I miss something? It feels like the moment before a storm breaks out.”
Amaris slipped an arm through hers and drew her close. “Apparently, Prince Auberon has leveled a rather weighty accusation against Prince Eamon. He told some of the council members about the horrible mistreatment of a Kostori slave and alleged that Prince Eamon sentenced a boy who tried to protect the child to thirty lashes. He says he witnessed it all, but Prince Eamon denies it outright.”
Riona’s stomach twisted. She didn’t know much about the Kostori treatment of slaves, but she had been a hostage in Beltharos and seen the depth of their hatred for elven slaves. She had watched Nicholas Comyn beat his own nephew for daring to help a handful of slaves escape their chains. If the two countries were at all similar in their mistreatment of the slaves, she could only imagine the poor elf’s punishment. “And is what Prince Auberon says true?”
“I don’t know. I won’t deny that I don’t care much for the Kostori prince, but I also know better than to take the Erdurians at their word. The suitors are here to win your hand. They will say anything to put the others down.”
“I think Amaris is right. It’s a lie,” Domhnall said, scowling. “Prince Eamon is the most likely candidate for your hand, and Prince Auberon feels threatened by that fact. He knew that appealing to our sympathies for slaves would win him and his brother some favor in the court.”
“So now the courtiers are taking sides,” Riona guessed.
“Precisely.”
She shook her head. All this politicking would be useless if she managed to find Cathal’s killer and prove her worth to her uncle. As she thought it, her gaze snagged on one of the elven servants, and she realized that she still had yet to see Aeron. She turned back to Amaris and Domhnall. “If you’ll excuse me, I need some fresh air. I’ll be back in time to bid everyone goodnight.”
Before they could respond, Riona slipped her arm out of Amaris’s and left the banquet hall. As soon as she passed through the grand double doors, she let out a breath of relief. The tension that had settled on her chest eased with every step she took away from the banquet.
Riona started down the corridor, hoping to find Aeron, Ophelia, or one of the other servants who acted as her eyes and ears in the castle. She was just about to turn the corner when she heard someone in the next hall call out, “Leaving so soon, Your Highness? Why not stay and enjoy the celebration? You did, after all, turn it into quite the interesting affair.”
Riona slowed, recognizing Prince Eamon’s voice. When no response came, she pulled off her heels and crept forward on silent feet, peering around the corner. Auberon was stalking down an empty, rarely-used corridor with his back to her, anger evident in the tight line of his broad shoulders. Prince Eamon stood in the center of the hall behind him, watching the prince walk away, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. From his stance, he looked almostamused.
“I know you’re bitter over the fact that despite your best efforts, your brother willstilllose Lady Riona’s hand in marriage,” Prince Eamon continued. “No matter what lies you tell the court, it won’t change the fact that I will win the betrothal. Valerian is weak and powerless, and your father has spent his life making Rivosa his enemy. You can try to turn the council against me all you like. It’ll make it even more embarrassing for the mighty princes of Erduria when you lose.”
“They aren’t lies, Eamon,” Auberon said, his voice surprisingly calm. He continued to walk away. “Sooner or later, the Rivosi court is going to see you for the snake you are.”
Prince Eamon shook his head, clicking his tongue as if he were reprimanding a child. “So much anger. Why do you care so much about your enemy’s niece? You see, I think you’ve failed your brother so you can keep Lady Riona all to yourself.”
The prince kept walking, saying nothing.
“What do you do with her all those nights in the Royal Theater, Auberon? Do you kiss her? Do youfuckher?”
Auberon went still. Riona’s mouth dropped open, and she set a hand on the wall beside her, willing herself to simply stand and watch. She waited to see how the prince would respond. Auberon’s fingers curled into fists at his sides, but still, he kept his back to Eamon. She would have given anything to see the look on his face at that moment.
“I’ve been silent thus far to avoid shaming Lady Riona in front of the court, but how do you think the king will react when I tell him what you’ve done? You and your brother will be cast out in disgrace, with no hope of ever achieving peace. Don’t worry—Riona’s secret will be safe with me. I am gracious enough to marry her, sullied or unsullied.” Eamon lowered his voice, his words dripping with arrogance. “Let us just hope that you have not put an Erdurian-blooded bastard into her, hm? Or else the palace in Torch will receive a rather unwelcome delivery in about nine months’ time.”
Auberon turned, strode to the prince, and punched him in the face.
Eamon reeled back, a hand flying up to his cheek. “Erdurian snake!” he spat, launching himself at Auberon.
“Kostori filth.”
Eamon swung a fist, but Auberon caught the prince’s wrist and twisted it behind him, slamming Eamon into the wall. “Speak one more word against her,” he snarled, his face contorted in fury, “and I will cut out your tongue and feed it to you.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
