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We stepped through the wide, open front doors of the palace. Several other guards fell in around us.
"I'm starting to feel fancy," I said to Wornar. "Anyone would think we're people of importance."
"I'm sure no one is under that illusion where you're concerned."
I snorted a laugh. "Funny, I was going to say the same about you."
"I suspected as much, that's why I said it first." He grinned.
"You might have been spending too much time with bad influences," I remarked as if I wasn't talking about myself. "Before you retort anything, remember you came looking for me."
"Only because without me, you're bound to get yourself into trouble." His tone was light, but his gaze was everywhere, as was mine. We were offered an audience, but this may just as easily turn into an ambush. Or at least, something unpleasant.
Cavan was too smart to provoke an incident by murdering us outright. Too many people knew we were here. It wouldn't go unnoticed. Or in Wornar's case, unpunished. Thiron wouldn't take it well if his cousin was murdered in cold blood.
Mine wouldn't be pleased about my death either, although we weren't especially close. My oldest cousin Johah had no interest in becoming High Lord. According to his wife, my lack of an alternative heir gave him hives. He would never admit that, but it sounded more or less accurate. And if it wasn't accurate, at least it was amusing.
My family, distant though they were, shared my sense of the absurd. Maybe it was a Winter Court thing.
"I'm not sure what you consider this." I gestured around us. "Some would call it trouble."
"Morning tea," Wornar replied easily. "I hear the cake here is reasonably good."
"No offence, but ‘reasonably good’ doesn't sound like a very good endorsement to me. Personally, I prefer fucking amazing cake to reasonably good cake."
"It's cake." Wornar shrugged. "I'm not that picky."
I grinned. "I've noticed that about you."
"It's obvious, because I spend more time with you than a sensible person would," he retorted.
"Touché." I nodded appreciatively. I always enjoyed the banter with him, almost as much as with Tavian and Vayne. More so, because it was too easy to get under Vayne's skin, and Tavian was too sweet to go for the verbal jugular. Ironic, since he was happy to go for the literal one.
Our boots thudded on the white marble floor as we were led to Cavan's audience chamber. The walls were lined with paintings and alcoves containing small gold statues.
Some of these, I suspected, were pure gold not gold plated. They'd be worth a Lord's ransom at least. If gaudy-as-fuck was your thing.
I preferred the paintings, although by the time we reached the end of the corridor, I'd counted twenty-seven nipples. The twenty eighth was covered by a blanket. I loved nipples as much as the next man, human or Fae, but I also liked variety in my art. Cavan apparently preferred topless women. Assuming he was the one who decorated the place, that was.
Our escort stopped at another wide doorway and cleared her throat.
"High Lord Cavan, Lord Wornar of the Spring Court and High Lord Ryze of the Winter Court have arrived."
I raised my eyebrows and exchanged glances with Wornar, who looked amused. No doubt everyone here was aware that announcing a Lord before a High Lord was considered rude at best and a grave insult at worst. I assumed that was why she was told to present us in that order. To piss me off and see what I’d do.
My father might have declared his champion would fight Cavan's to the death over an insult like that. Fortunately for Vayne, I had thicker skin and a more important agenda than to dwell on petty matters like this.
"See them in." One of Cavan's courtiers hovered near the doorway, gesturing nervously.
Perhaps he thought I'd ask for his life in return for the insult. Lucky for him, I hated to get blood on perfectly good marble floors. Not to mention his death would achieve absolutely nothing.
Our escort stepped aside to let us into the audience chamber.
A massive window with a view over the harbour let in so much light I had to squint to avoid being blinded by all the white and gold. Was it there to offend the eye or to keep newcomers to the room from striking the High Lord first?
If the latter was the case, then it was brilliant. It took a couple of minutes for my eyes to adjust. If I planned to kill Cavan, I'd be dead before I could.
I made a note to lighten the walls in my audience chamber. Or maybe move it to a place the sun could slant in like it was here.
