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Dinner in the palace is often a grand affair, served in the vast dining hall behind the salon, with dozens of courtiers and attendants and diplomats creating a cacophony of sound that often becomes exhausting before anyone eats their fill. I don’t mind it much, but Harristan hates being so widely accessible, so I’m not surprised when I hear that we’re dining in the Pearl Room.
It’s an interesting choice, because the room is very fine, but nottoofine. The walls are a faint gray, with a dark blue artful swirl that stretches from corner to corner and seems to faintly glisten. As you get closer, you can see a tiny line of real pearls embedded in the design. The table is a block of white marble, topped with a floral arrangement of vibrant blue lilies that exactly match the floral pattern on the seat cushions. Servants stand ready to pour glasses of wine and stronger things. A side table full of delicacies sits beneath the window, which overlooks the rear gardens of thepalace. Stonehammer’s Arch is visible, an arc of brightly flaming torches that hang suspended over a pond.
To my surprise, Tessa and I are the first to arrive. Harristan hasn’t yet appeared. Neither has Captain Blakemore, for that matter.
Tessa stands at my side, resplendent in deep green velvet that clings to every curve, a gown that allows a generous expanse of neckline. Her hair has been curled and fixed to hang down her back, with shining green and silver hairpins in place to tie a bit back from her face. She looks warm and elegant, and every inch of bare skin reminds me of her vulnerability.
When I saw Lochlan looming over her, I really did want to have a guard shoot him with a crossbow.
I don’t know who I’m fooling. I wanted to do it myself.
After seeing her fear in the carriage, I’m glad I didn’t. I wish I could go back and erase the worry from her gaze.
Are you frightened of me?
She said nothing. But that said everything.
I hate this forced distance between us. I should make an official declaration of courtship. Our time together is always too public, too politically charged. Any private moments are too brief, limited to shadowed walks behind the palace, or quiet games of chess before breakfast. But I worry that anything more would weaken our efforts. Everything is already so precarious.
I think of that man in the candy shop. If Tessa and I were openly involved, she’d bemoreof a target.
Then again, if we were openly involved, I’d drag her into my chambers and we wouldn’t leave for a week.
I need to stop thinking like this.
“Wine?” I say to her.
She shakes her head and presses a hand to her abdomen. “If I start drinking wine, I’ll never remember the correct fork.”
I smile and lean in to speak low, then risk brushing a finger along her chin. “In that dress, no one will be looking at your cutlery.”
She flushes, but she gives me a rueful look. “Fine. Maybe one glass.” I gesture for a servant, and Tessa adds, “Mind your mettle, Corrick.”
My smile widens. “Mind yours.”
She takes the glass she’s offered, but the slight smile drops from her face. “Are the consuls attending this dinner?”
I turn to see two consuls approaching: Roydan Pelham, of the Sorrowlands, and Arella Cherry, of Sunkeep. They haven’t been in the palace very much since the rebels attacked, and I rather doubt they’ve been invited to dinner. Months ago, I had speculated about them being involved with the rebellion. They’ve been cleared of any involvement, but that doesn’t make their prior behavior any less suspect. Their sectors both border Trader’s Landing, which lacks a consul, so they’ve shared management of the area, but I’ve told Harristan that needs to change. They’ve had too many secret meetings, too many opportunities for plotting.
They might not have been involved in the last rebellion, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t plotting their own.
I sometimes find the thought a bit disappointing. Arella often challenges me, but I know it’s done out of a desire to make things better. And Roydan is the only consul who ever showed us a glimmer of kindness after our parents died.
Arella has a hand on Roydan’s arm, though I’m sure it’s more for his benefit than for hers. He’s three times her age, and he walks with a trembling step.
“Consuls,” I say.
Arella offers a brief curtsy, and Roydan gives me a nod. He’s too old to bow.
“Your Highness,” Roydan says. He gives Tessa a kind smile. “Miss Cade.”
His warmth tugs at me. I just can’t imagine him doing something nefarious.
“Consuls,” Tessa says, her tone a bit shy. I can tell she’s deliberating whether she should move away and give us some privacy, but I want to keep this conversation social, so I rest a hand over hers.
“I didn’t know you were joining us for dinner,” I say to the others.
“We’re not,” Roydan says. “Arella and I will eat in the salon. I was hoping to catch a minute of your time, Corrick. I don’t want to be a bother.”
