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He pried his fingers up to reveal the profile of the late Oleg Panarin stamped in the copper disc.
“Very well. Algejón is yours, Quarehian. As for the rest of what you’re asking of me…I have much to think on,” the queen said abruptly, standing. We all rose from our own chairs as she swept from the room in evident dismissal. “I will provide you with an answer tomorrow.”
Then she paused in the doorway, glancing back over her shoulder. She was chewing on a lock of hair, an anxious tell that she’d begun to succumb to about half an hour ago as the discussions started to draw to a close. “I can’t promise it will be an answer you like.”
My brother stared after her long after she’d disappeared.
“Fucking hell,” he said in Temarian, drawing a weary hand over his brow. “Dealing with her never gets easier.”
For the first time, I didn’t disagree. I’d seen more of that other side to Astrid today, the merciless politician who didn’t cede an inch of ground without securing a greater benefit in turn, and while I expected it would make her an excellent queen to her people, it also turned her into a formidable...adversarywasn’t quite the right word, considering Ren was hoping to win her as an ally.
“It’s been a fun day,” my prince agreed, cracking a smile in Valeri’s direction that surprisingly held hints of his own tiredness. To allow such a thing to show through was either a lapse in attention – which Ren didn’t have, not when he was working like this – or an offer of camaraderie.
To mybrother.
I shut my mouth before either of them could catch me staring.
Ren drummed his fingers on the table, drawing our attention. “One of you Velichkovs cheated,” he announced delightedly, “and I couldn’t be prouder. I just can’t work out if you Saw how it would land,” he said, glancing at me before turning his head to Valeri, “or you’ve learned to flip coins with precision.”
“We have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, yawning widely, and my prince smirked.
“I’m going to get some sleep,” Val declared in lieu of his own denial. His palms fell heavily to the tabletop as he shoved his chair back and stood. “Night, Nat. Aratorre.”
Ren shot his departing form a lazy salute with a hand that was missing its usual rings, although the leather cuff still adorned his wrist. “That went...”
“Terribly?” I suggested.
“Well,” he said. “Terribly well?”
I grunted out an irritable snort that summed up my feelings. “We still don’t know if Astrid’s going to help us.”
“Of course not. It was the first day, and everyone knows nothing is agreed on the first day. It would be far too suspicious.”
“But every day that passes-”
“I know,mi sol. But trying to hurry her up appears desperate,” he said, “and there is nothing so dangerous in a negotiation as desperation.”
I groaned. “I hate this politics shit.”
Ren stood from his chair and moved over to me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You’re doing exceptionally.”
I frowned, not understanding. “What? I didn’t do anything.”
“Think of it this way, Mat. Astrid is a vegetable.”
I peered up at him. “Excuse me?”
“Your brother is the appropriately shaped chorizo,” my prince explained, making a lewd gesture in case I’d somehow missed his meaning. “And I am the chicken. And the prawns and the sauce and everything else tasty, but you, Mathias! You are the rice.”
“Is this supposed to do anything other than make me hungr-”
“You cannot have paella without rice, darling,” Ren informed me very seriously, his brown eyes wide and surprisingly sincere. “You are the key ingredient. And if the rice stuck only to the chicken, it would be a terrible dish indeed.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m…relevant?” I guessed, and Ren chuckled.
“Yes, Mat. You’re relevant. You’revital. Every one of us around that table cares for you. You’re what pulled us together, and you’re ultimately who they’ve been listening to today, not me.”
I shifted on the chair again, somehow far more uncomfortable in its unforgiving embrace now than I had been for the last several hours. “I just...”
