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“Now, now, kitten. Put your claws away for when they’ll be of better use,” he retorts, pulling a chair out for me.
But I remain frozen to my spot.
“There are only two chairs at this table.”
Teo’s forehead creases as his gaze bounces from said table back to me.
“I don’t follow.”
“I said there are only two chairs at this table, and as you can see, we are four people in total. Are my handmaidens forced to suffer the humiliation of sitting on the ground as they eat like some pet, or will you show them the respect they deserve by offering a place they can sit?”
Teo’s tanned complexion pales, and it takes all of me not to laugh at his discomfort.
Serves him right.
He looks back at the small table that is only big enough for two.
“Is the dining hall fit to break fast for us, Samir?”
“Yes, my king. We made preparations for Mistress Cleo,” Samir explains, his head hanging low.
“So be it. Please usher the queen and her ladies there and ask someone to clear this table. It’s of no use to me anymore.”
“Of course, my king.”
As instructed, Samir leads the way back inside, while Teo hangs back just to take one final look at his unreciprocated gesture. There is a sliver of guilt that creeps its way inside me. When Samir told us that we were to eat outside, I knew exactly where Teo had planned our meal—in his garden.
In my battle to fight off the mix of emotions I have been inflicted with since arriving at Braaka, I forgot how well Teo knows me. In my youth, I shared most of my secrets with him, almost every thought. The only person to beat him in that regard was Atlas. And that was mostly because I truly believed that Atlas and I were the same person, separated in the womb. But while Atlas had my confidence, Teo had something else. My utter devotion.
I’m not sure if I should be cross with him by setting up such a stunt, aimed to manipulate my feelings, or saddened that I’m unable to see his sweet gesture as anything but emotional blackmail. Whatever his intentions, his plan fell flat.
“Kind of feel sad for him,” Anya whispers behind me.
“Sad? The man had more food on display in that little table than most back home have to eat for a week. Pity those poor hungry souls. Not King Teodoro of Derfir,” Inessa snaps, always telling it like it is.
“Listen to our friend, Anya. She knows what she says.”
“Yes, Kat. OUCH! Damn you, Inessa! That’s going to leave a bruise,” Anya belts out, rubbing at her arm where Inessa must have pinched her.
“Oh, don’t widen your eyes at me, my queen. You’re the one who gave her leave to be so informal,” Inessa bites back, shaking her head in dismay. “What if her tongue slips and calls you by that name when others can hear? You’ll have to send her to the dungeons just to save face and she’ll end up being the pun of every joke. I will not have it.”
Thank the gods I have my handmaidens—my sisters—to distract me.
“See, Anya? Even when Inessa is being mean, it’s out of love for us.” I raise a teasing brow.
“Yeah, well, she sure has a funny way of showing it,” Anya mutters, still rubbing at her arm.
“Your Majesty?” Samir calls out a few yards away from us, waving us into a room.
“Come, ladies. Our meal awaits,” I tell them, walking toward Teo’s man, my friends right at my heel.
The dining hall is large and spacious, a long dining table right at its center that can seat about twenty. I sit on the chair at the head of the table, knowing Teo will be forced to sit opposite me—very far away. My ladies take their respective seats to each of my sides, ensuring those places are filled.
This I can live with.
Not the intimate garden setting Teo had planned for me.
Samir says that he’ll be back with our food when Teo graces us with his presence, no longer looking as sullen as he did when we left him. But to my dismay, instead of sitting at the far end of the table, he grabs a chair and plants it at my side.
