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The second the banquet hall doors swung shut, Riona turned to the king and queen. “Inviting the suitors here for the negotiations seemed like a good idea at the time,” she said, “but this cannot possibly end well. Duke Valerian and Prince Eamon already hated each other, and now Eamon and Auberon are one smart comment away from slitting the other’s throat.”
“I agree with my daughter on this, Domhnall,” her father said, moving to her side. “Is gaining better terms worth destroying the relations of all these countries? We cannot survive without allies, and we certainly cannot demand the respect of our court if we turn every banquet into a damned spectacle.”
“Wedid not do anything,” King Domhnall replied. “The fault lies with Auberon and Eamon. They are allowing their emotions to get the better of them. Still, I agree with you. It would be wise to give them some time away from the court to relieve the tension. We’ll cancel the banquet tomorrow and dine in private.”
The queen shook her head. “They’re each trying to one-up the others and win your favor. They’ll do it regardless of whether the rest of the nobility is there because your opinion is the only one that matters. As long as there is an opportunity to score points, they will be at each other’s throats.”
“We’d be better off sending them home with our apologies and arranging alliances via emissary,” Riona said.
“No. They’re here now, and we have invested too much time and money into this to send them home without some sort of resolution. Besides, negotiations like these are better done in person. Communication takes much too long between the northern and southern continents.”
“Then at least send the Erdurian princes back,” Riona insisted. “They’re more trouble than they’re worth, and anyone can see that you only keep them around to pressure Prince Eamon and Duke Valerian into offering better terms.”
With Auberon and Drystan gone and Valerian potentially able to garner support from Beltharos, that would only leave her Eamon to contend with. She considered revealing the vile things Eamon had said in the hall earlier, but decided to hold her tongue. She still didn’t know what her uncle hoped to gain from an alliance with Kostos, and she doubted a few crass remarks would do much to harm Eamon’s chances at an alliance.
“We can’t send them home,” Prince Domhnall interjected, his fingers laced through Amaris’s. “Father, I know you don’t trust them after everything that has happened, but the Empire has lost much to the war, as well. Prince Auberon and Prince Drystan came asking for a peace treaty, and I must insist again that you accept. Amaris and I will one day rule this kingdom, and we have no intention of dragging out this war any longer than necessary. Think about our future.”
“That isallI think about,” the king responded. “At my coronation, I swore a vow to protect my subjects. I will not bow to Erduria. I cannot risk Rivosa’s security. You saw how Prince Auberon turned half of the court against the other with a few clever words. Do you truly believe that Emperor Hyperion would not use tricks like that to expand his influence into our kingdom?”
“So what will we do?” Riona’s father asked, shooting a warning look at a group of servants who had paused to listen in on their conversation. Their cheeks flushed crimson as they bowed and rushed off to attend to their duties. “If we cannot narrow the pool and cannot arrange a betrothal via emissary, what happens now?”
“The suitors need some time to cool down,” the queen said. “The cooks can deliver their dinners to the guest houses tomorrow night, and we’ll simply have to apologize for the change of plans. I’m sure they will understand.”
“We should have a public outing,” Riona cut in, an idea striking her. “A performance at the Royal Theater. That way, they will be forced to behave themselves, and they won’t be caught up in trying to top the others. It’ll be nice for them to get out of the confines of the castle.”
Queen Blair smiled. “Excellent idea, my love. Domhnall?”
The king nodded. “I agree. In the morning, I’ll send word to the owner of the Theater letting her know that we will be using our private box.”
“There’s no need. I’ll do it,” Riona said. She was still furious with Auberon for what he’d said earlier, but she owed him for helping her these past two weeks, and this was how she would repay him.
“Thank you, my dear.”
She curtsied and bade them goodnight. Together, she, her father, and Amaris made their way to the gatehouse, where her father called for a carriage to take them home. None of them spoke as the wooden wheels clattered and bounced over the uneven cobbles, each mulling over the events of the night. It was Amaris who finally broke the silence.
“I hope you marry Duke Valerian,” she said quietly, the light of the streetlamps playing across her face as she stared out the window. “He seems like a good man.”
“He does,” Riona agreed. “And he deserves a wife who will love him.”
Her father studied her for several long moments, his expression unreadable. “Are you so certain you cannot be that wife?”
“I do not intend to find out. With any of the suitors.”
He fixed her with an exasperated look. “My love, I wish you could stay here and serve on the council, but that is not the fate the Creator has given you. You will marry one of the suitors, and it is time you accepted that. I don’t want to hear another word to the contrary. Have I made myself clear?”
“But—”
“You are a grown woman, Riona,” he said, his patience beginning to fray. “You know the cost of the royal blood in your veins. You know the sacrifices our kingdom demands of us. I am sorry to have to speak so harshly, but you must give up this foolish notion of staying in Innislee. It is over. Your uncle plans to select a suitor in one week’s time.”
ChapterThirty-Seven
The Liar
The next day, Auberon followed Drystan toward the Royal Theater’s open doors, struck by how strange it felt to see the building in use. Instead of the lone few candles to which he’d grown accustomed, every chandelier in the foyer was lit, filling the room with warm golden light. Nobles milled about, each clad in a form-fitting gown or a fine doublet and coat. At a command from a royal guard, they parted to clear a wide path to the base of the theater’s grand staircase, dropping into bows and curtsies.
The king and his wife led the procession through the foyer, trailed by Prince Domhnall and his young siblings. Next came Amaris, Riona, and her father, then the suitors. The respect with which the court regarded Duke Valerian didn’t escape Auberon’s notice. Riona’s charitable little excursions had won him the hearts of the people, poor and rich alike. Still, it wasn’t terribly concerning. Popularity couldn’t make up for the fact that the Duchy of Kenter had little to offer King Domhnall. Plus, he rather enjoyed seeing how the duke’s favor grated on Eamon—the latter of whom had managed to secure some sort of cosmetic to cover the dark bruise blossoming across his cheek.
Of their own accord, Auberon’s eyes drifted to Riona, and his chest tightened as he watched her climb the stairs beside her father. She looked resplendent in a floor-length gown of midnight blue silk. The cut of the bodice left her entire back bare, revealing lithe muscle and perfect ebony skin. Her braids were twisted and piled atop her head, and sapphires dripped from her earlobes. Auberon hadn’t thought she could look more beautiful than she had at that first banquet, but he’d been wrong. Every time he looked at her, she took his breath away.
