AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Apprehension cramped his features, along with the telltale slivers of yearning. He appeared visibly torn between the desire to sit and the guilt of wanting such a thing. I could say his ruddy complexion had everything to do with exertion after setting up the carnival, but I would be lying to myself.
I’d also be lying if I denied feeling borderline self-destructive. To thrill him gave me a genuine satisfaction I hadn’t enjoyed since the archive library.
Nonetheless, this room was free of eavesdroppers. That proved vital for this conversation.
At last, the minstrel took his seat. In doing so, his eyes tripped across my forearms exposed by the rolled-up sleeves of my shirt. From there, his gaze ascended the garment’s plunging neckline, which offered a peek. The ardent flash in his pupils reminded me I should have laced the cursed thing.
He caught himself and gestured wildly around the space. “These are extravagant chambers, more than any artist in residence can say about their own quarters. The richness of your sheets alone—I mean, not that I was staring at your bed for that long, but one can tell from a mere glimpse. The pillows are, um, fluffy. And to have a private bathroom rather than a common one must be a prize. Also, I’ve never seen these many candles outside of a Royal suite. You’re fortunate the Crown values you.”
In particular, I thought of one marvelous and merciless female. “Alas, most would say I’m spoiled.”
“I doubt anyone would expect less for the Court Jester.”
“That’s because you haven’t yet peeked at my wardrobe. Some would accuse me of being ostentatious.”
“Ah, that. Yeah, I do know one person who would say as much.” But Eliot’s fond chuckle trailed off, and he glanced at the floor, sadness overwhelming his features. “Is this about what happened today? Is that why I’m here?”
“’Tis about several things,” I told him. “But yes.”
“What did she tell you?”
“What do you fear she told me? And why would you assume she’d betray your confidence? The last time I checked, you were friends.”
The lute tattoo rippled down his neck as he swallowed. “I thought so once.”
“Then stop thinking it—andknowit.” I couldn’t help the way my tone grew firm, shielding, protective. By now, it had become a permanent reflex. “Don’t discount her. You mean the world to Briar.”
“Briar, is it?” Eliot swung his gaze my way. “First name terms with the princess?”
“As you pointed out, I’m the Court Jester. I don’t play by the rules unless they suit me. I’m on first name terms with everyone.”
“Still, you seem invested in someone you targeted for satire—at a crowded feast only weeks ago.”
I lifted a brow. “She told you about the ribbon?”
Eliot stared at me. “She didn’t have to.”
So he figured it out, likely because he’d gotten hints.
Indeed, every part of me was invested in Briar. But I wouldn’t entertain his remarks, wouldn’t set foot on that trap.
Also, I saw no point in confirming. Based on the wounded way Eliot and Briar had looked at each other on the hill, he’d somehow found out about us. He hadn’t said a thing to me in the interim, but he must have to her.
At the thought of him devastating Briar, another surge of protectiveness for her curled my knuckles. Only guilt, compassion, and lingering fondness toward Eliot stopped my fingernails from digging into the chair.
The minstrel felt deceived by Briar. The problem was, he blamed her and forgave me. That explained his undivided attention today and our banter in front of the princess. We’d wanted to punish her, and that goal had brought out the prick in me, yet all it did was make me feel like shit shoveled from a gutter. I doubted it made Eliot feel any better.
Aye. I had treated her that way because of Nicu, not the Peace Talks. I’d been too harsh with Briar about the latter, but the former … I couldn’t get her words out of my head.
I’m not a lost child who will never grasp the difference between left and right. I’m not Nicu!
Continuously, those words sawed through my fucking ribs. Yet the same agonizing, wrathful afflictions had consumed me on the hill, when Avalea had dismissed Briar in front of an audience. I had wanted to snarl at anyone who so much as looked at the princess with judgment or hostility, and I’d come close to acting on that.
Of course, my brave and willful thorn wouldn’t have wanted me leaping to her defense. Moreover, she hadn’t needed me to, for she had refused to wilt, to let Cadence’s remarks go unpunished. Pride and an inconceivable need had rooted me to the spot, watching rage color Briar’s skin as she slapped the lady off her pedestal.
How passionate.
How not enough. There was so muchnot enoughthat I’d lost direction from whence it came.
