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“What is there to be upset about? She’s simply busy. I respect her. There’s no need to cling to someone you trust.”
Mareleau felt abashed at that. She may not know her brother-in-law well, but she knew even less about separating love from obsession. She’d clung to her chance at love so hard, she’d lied for it. Betrayed the trust of the person she’d been fighting for. She waited for the guilt to come, but most of it had already faded when Larylis forgave her.
Larylis. Gods how she missed him.
She pushed the thought away. “You must really like her.”
Teryn’s expression shifted, his smile tightening with his jaw, eyes suddenly devoid of mirth. “An understatement.”
“Then why don’t you march over to that tower—”
“No.” The word came out cold, edged with finality. It hung between them, chilling the air. Then his smile returned, and it was no longer angled into a smirk. “Why don’t you join me for the meal you worked so hard to prepare, sister?”
“Me,” Mareleau said with a grimace. “Dine with you?”
“You seemed quite passionate over the wine and cake. If anyone deserves to enjoy it, it’s you, am I wrong?”
He had a point. She had worked hard, and if Aveline was going to force all that effort to go to waste, then the least she could do was enjoy it. “But…but my presence will be missed at dinner in the hall.”
“Will it, though?”
Another good point. She doubted anyone would even note her absence. Besides, she was only going for cake. She could always join the feast after.
Her stomach churned, rippling with the same nausea she’d felt earlier when she’d lusted over the wine. Seven gods, she was ravenous. She supposed it made sense after all her hard work.
That left her only one answer she could give. “Fine.”
* * *
By the timethey reached the little courtyard, the plates had already been filled with food, and a small round cake rested upon a tray at the center of the table. Noise still carried from the kitchen, but with most of the staff busy in the dining hall, it was somewhat less chaotic. Still, Teryn didn’t hesitate to close the shutters over the kitchen window and seal the door leading to the courtyard. It cut off even more of the noise, leaving them some semblance of peace.
Teryn lowered himself into one of the seats, his posture casual as he sank into the chair. He seemed…tired. Fatigued. As if he’d been the one slaving away over table decorations the last couple of hours.
Mareleau resisted the urge to sneer at his lax composure and dragged her chair far from his. When they were on opposite ends of the table, she took her seat. She leaned toward the glorious display of lemon chiffon, only to pause with her hand an inch away from the serving knife. Teryn had insisted that his dinner with the princess be unattended by servants, and while she’d found the notion crass then, it was even more so now. She’d never had to slice her own cake before…
Teryn released a soft chuckle and took the knife from under her hand. Then, with deft movements, he sliced the cake with two flicks of the blade and placed the piece on her plate.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, taking up her fork. She was about to take a dainty bite as befitting a queen, when she decided—to hell with it—since no one of import was watching, she might as well shove the largest forkful she could fit. One with equal parts frosting and cake.
She closed her eyes as the sweet lemon flavor melted over her tongue. It made her want to dance in her seat. Were she a younger girl, she would have. She was far too reserved for that now.
The sound of pouring liquid made her open her eyes. Teryn filled his glass with wine, then did the same for hers. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of the ruby liquid before her. It took all her strength of will to force her eyes away so she could burn Teryn with a glare. “I can’t have that.”
He arched a brow. “Why not?”
“You damn well know why not.”
He shrugged, taking a long pull from his glass. “Gods, it’s been too long since I’ve tasted wine. Why can’t you have any?”
She glanced around, but she already knew they weren’t being watched. “The baby,” she whispered.
“Ah. Right. You’re pregnant with my brother’s child.”
“Why do you keep acting like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like…like you’ve forgotten things.”
