Maris kissed the woman’s hand before presenting her. “Zarya, this absolutely ravishing beauty is Tamara. Tamara, Zarya.”
Zarya smiled at the petite woman. Maris was right, she was so gorgeous that it left Zarya feeling without. But she wouldn’t hold that against her, not when she seemed to be so much fun. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tamara.”
“Call me Tams, hon, everyone does.” She frowned as she looked past Zarya’s shoulder. “Ugh, I’m being summoned.” Irritated, she glanced to Maris. “We need to have a girl gab session and catch up, Mari. I’ll find out where our placards are and switch them so that we can sit together during dinner. Later, my precious.” She kissed him on the lips before making her way through the crowd.
Flabbergasted by the entire encounter, Zarya arched a curious brow at Maris. “Who is she exactly?”
More to the point, what was she to Maris? Because their entire interaction had been very strange.
Maris gracefully pulled two glasses of wine from a passing server’s tray. He handed one to her before he answered. “Tams was the woman I left standing at the altar.”
Zarya choked on her wine as those unexpected words rang in her ears. That had been Maris’s former fiancée?
She couldn’t believe that Tams would be so nice and pleasant after such a humiliating ordeal—it was the kind of experience most women dreaded… And all the women Zarya had known would have still wanted to claw out Maris’s eyes.
“Pardon?”
He saluted her with his glass. “It’s true. And that was how I knew for a fact that I was gay. No question about it. If ever a woman would have attracted me and compelled me to be a breeder, it was she.”
His gaze went to Tamara as she and her husband were introduced to Darling. “She is truly beautiful, inside and out, in a way that very few people are. Besides Darling, she’s one of my best friends and has always been such. May the gods bless her. Rather than being scandalized and bitter, she actually thanked me in the chapel for being honest and not trapping her into a celibate marriage of convenience.”
If nothing else about Tams was gracious, that alone would have made Zarya love the woman. “I’m so glad she was decent about it.”
“No kidding. Aside from Darling, she was the only one who was. The rest of her family wanted my testicles on a platter.”
Giggling at his vivid imagery, Zarya daintily picked up a small hors d’oeuvre from the tray a waiter presented to her. She’d just bitten into it when another aristo approached them. At least, she thought he was an aristo. While he was in uniform, he had the bearing and presence of one.
Not to mention, he was amazingly handsome. Dressed in a formal black League uniform, he wore a pair of opaque sunglasses covering his eyes. His long black hair was braided down his back—the mark of a high-ranking assassin. He appeared ready to kill, but his features softened as he inclined his head to Maris.
Was he one of Maris’s former boyfriends? Darling had told her that Maris went through men faster than most people changed their socks.
“You look so happy, Maris. I hope it’s not a fa?ade.”
Maris’s features were unreadable, but his body was rigid and cold. “I am happy, thank you.” His gaze dropped to the sleeves of the man’s uniform. A slow smile curved his lips. “I see you made assassin’s rank like you always wanted. Are you enjoying it?”
True to his training, the assassin didn’t betray a single emotion. “It’s not exactly what I thought it would be. But I can’t complain. And you…” He broke his stern countenance to laugh. “Darling made quite an impression with the High Command when he nailed every assassin Kyr sent in to kill him. It was highly impressive. Are you the one who taught him how to fight?”
“Not I. Nykyrian Quiakides.”
“Ahhhh.” The assassin returned to his cold demeanor. “That explains a lot, actually.”
Maris indicated Zarya with his glass. “Zarya, allow me to introduce you to Deputy Agent Safir Jari.”
The assassin stiffened. “Chief agent, actually.”
“Oh Saf, I’m so sorry.” Maris finally relaxed into the man she knew and loved. “I so did not do that as an intentional slap to you.” He gestured to the embroidery on Safir’s sleeve. “I never could keep the League ranks straight.”
Safir smiled. “I know, Mari. Dad used to get so mad at you whenever you’d screw them up.”
Zarya had to catch herself to keep from gaping at the unexpected disclosure. This was one of Maris’s many brothers?
Really? Other than the black hair, they didn’t really favor. Except they were both exceedingly handsome.
Maris swallowed as a dark shadow clouded his gaze. “I take it he still won’t speak my name.”
Safir’s face mirrored Maris’s pain. “Mom, either.”
Maris glanced around the room uneasily. “You should go before someone photographs you speaking to me and sends it to them. I don’t want you to have to deal with that.”