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Truth be told, Ber was rather counting on it.
Chapter 3
Family Dinners
There would be nothing pleasant about this evening’s dinner, but that was hardly new. Ber had suffered centuries of such stilted affairs, though at least in his youth, he’d been fortunate enough to be excluded from the worst of them. Not now, however. The king was far too tense to countenance any excuses.
Unlike in Llyalia, the Centoi king rarely dined at the High Table with the court unless he was hosting visiting royalty or other high-ranking officials. He preferred his private dining room, but of course, dark deeds were better planned around a single table in a restricted room than in front of the whole court. Not even the servants were allowed to remain between delivering courses.
There were only three other nobles present tonight—Duke Aony, Lord Ilduin, the Earl of Vaqirelle, and Sir Owein. The trifecta of awfulness, but also Ber’s most likely allies. These three had done enough dark deeds to gain the king’s trust, which meant they’d seen the extent of the depravity their sovereign was capable of. The problem was whether they agreed with him.
At the head of the table to Ber’s left, King Ryenil frowned over his wine glass. “These latest failures have created a serioussetback. That fool healer brought down most of my spy network in the palace, and he didn’t even manage to kill Toren’s little breeder before she could spawn.”
Though Ber’s stomach turned, he forced himself to swallow his bite of food. At this point, he could probably eat in spite of any ailment, thanks to years of dinners with Ryenil. “Any word about Vesset’s son?”
It still rankled that Vesset, a primary court healer in Llyalia, had been one of the spies Ber hadn’t uncovered. King Ryenil had kept the man’s son close for bribery’s sake, but the king had withheld that particular bit of information. Though Ber had also done terrible things to gain Ryenil’s trust, that only went so far with the rightfully paranoid king. Discovering what the man didn’t want known was the task of a lifetime.
“He was seen at his father’s execution and was tracked for several days after,” Ryenil answered. “But he never made it back to the Centoi border. Perhaps Toren ordered him quietly killed.Iwouldn’t allow a traitor’s son to roam free.”
Ber wanted to laugh at that. The king loved traitors, so long as their treachery was done on his behalf. But Ryenil was the worst betrayer of all, for he was willing to throw all of Centoi into darkness if it brought him a single speck of additional power. Maybe that was why he’d been willing to kill Tes—he didn’t wish for her to reveal his perfidy.
The two nobles across from Ber both wore concerned frowns, but there was a craftiness to the glance Duke Aony flicked toward Ber before his attention focused on the king. “Are you sure the connection with Centoi hasn’t been discovered? It is concerning that so many of our conspirators were found at once. Perhaps someone amongst the last contingent revealed our secrets?”
Ah, there it was. Though Sir Owein, the nominal head of the last delegation, stiffened beside him, Ber merely smiled slightlyand took a casual sip of wine. The duke was too clumsy in his accusations, his framing too obvious. It would no doubt be his downfall someday.
“You could be right,” Ber said. “Perhaps we should interrogate the messenger who was supposed to return with missives from our spies in the palace. His protestations of innocence were suspiciously fervent. Such excess often cloaks guilt.”
Duke Aony’s eyes narrowed on Ber, but King Ryenil nodded. “See that he is tortured for a full confession, Aony,” the king said. “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for your negligence concerning my daughter. The loss of her child was a terrible blow.”
Not her—the baby. Pain pinched Ber’s heart at the cold words, even as relief made the skin on his arms prickle. The odds had been even that he would be the one to torture the poor, innocent messenger. It was bad enough that he’d been forced to implicate the man, but it couldn’t be discovered that Ber had stolen and destroyed the final message from Vesset.
That letter had revealed that Tes and their child were still alive.
“It grieves me endlessly that I indulged her by allowing our wedding trip to venture so near the border, Father,” Ber said, somehow managing not to choke on the last word—an honor Ryenil had insisted upon. “I should have known her tender heart would lead her to attempt a reconciliation with my wicked brother. That Duke Aony also indulged her on such a dangerous whim…”
“Yes, it is questionable,” King Ryenil said.
Lord Ilduin’s look of concern was wholly feigned, as were his words when he finally spoke. “Surely, you don’t believe Duke Aony caused the princess harm on purpose?”
“It wasn’t my intention to suggest such,” Ber replied. “Only that he is weak to a woman’s pleading. Not even I would have given in enough to escort her over the border.”
The duke’s face turned an alarming shade of red. “I—”
“Enough!” The king’s glare passed from the duke and over the other two nobles. “I have more important things to discuss with Ber than past misdeeds. You will leave me and my son to it. Now.”
Although the main course had yet to be served, the others stood and bowed. Ber’s stomach clenched again—and not because of the nasty look the duke shot his way when the king wasn’t looking. A conference alone. What new horror was the king about to suggest? He surely wouldn’t give up on his plot to take over Llyalia.
Ber took a fortifying sip of wine as the plates were cleared away and a new dish served. Silence reigned until the last servant fled the room. But even then, neither he nor the king took a bite of the rich meat pie. Instead, Ryenil’s lips twisted into a wicked smile.
No, this wouldn’t be good.
“There are only two ways to get you on the Llyalian throne at this point,” Ryenil said after another moment of awkward silence had passed. “Either we have the baby assassinated, or we arrange for you to marry her.”
Oh, gods.
Ber’s very insides rebelled at that wretched statement. He could only give thanks that he hadn’t braved a bite of the pie, for it seemed hecouldn’tdine through any affliction. He could barely even touch the edge of those words with his thoughts without wanting to vomit. His twin brother’s infant daughter…
He wanted to draw the knife from his boot and slam it into Ryenil’s throat. A quick enough twist, and the king wouldn’t be able to cry out. But he couldn’t do it, not yet. Since he’d beenunable to take down the king without causing a war, he needed to keep things stable until Tes returned. That meant temperance even in this.
