“Patriarch Thueson.” She smiled. Thueson had wiry white hair that stood out from his head as if he couldn’t help but run his hands through it. He looked deep in contemplation as he studied his plate. “He’s a nice man,” Lisveth said. “My father was rarely at court when I was young, and Patriarch Thueson always had a piece of honeyed fruit for me.” She leaned close and lowered her voice to a whisper. “He hates court. He’d much rather be managing his lands with his husband, but the king enjoys his company and often insists he stay here. Next to him is Patriarch Greve.” She nodded toward a man with a thin, sharp nose and a sallow complexion. Something like fear darted across her face, and I opened my mouth, but Lisveth turned back to face the table. Clearly, she didn’t want to talk about it.
I waited a few more minutes, but none of the other ladies showed any signs of retiring. Finally, I pushed back my chair.
“I’m tired,” I said.
Lisveth smiled at me. The others ignored me.
“Good night.”
I practically ran from the dining hall. I hadn’t seen Rythos or the rest of the group, but if Lorian was here, I had little doubt they were around somewhere.
Someone took my arm, and I stumbled. Then I was being swept into an empty room.
Lorian glowered down at me. My stupid body wanted to arch against him. Clearly, all the stress was impacting my mind.
“You were supposed to get on a ship,” he growled.
I took a deep breath, and his enticing scent wound toward me. He smelled wild, like the forest, and it reminded me of sleeping outdoors beneath the stars. “I’m going nowhere until Asinia is safe.”
He went still in that strange way he so often did. “You’re risking everything for a woman who is probably dead already?”
I sniffed. “I don’t know how to explain friendship and loyalty to you. You either know what those things are, or you don’t.”
The ghost of a smile crossed his face. We both knew he was intensely loyal to his friends. “Tell me.”
“It’s simple. She’s my best friend. More like a sister than a friend. And I know, without a doubt, that if I were the one who’d been taken, she’d do the same for me.”
“Yet neither of you knew the other had power.”
Something I’d avoided thinking about until I could talk to Asinia.
“Our friendship had secrets. But none of that matters now. The question is, what the hell are you doing here?” I hissed.
He just raised one dark brow. “How about you tell me how a villager gets a position as one of the queen’s ladies?”
“As soon as you tell me how a mercenary has a seat at the king’s table.”
He gave me a slow smile. “I never said I was a mercenary.”
Of all the— “You’re not from Gromalia either!”
“According to whom?” He had the audacity to look affronted.
“The idea of you being a prince is ludicrous.”
“Almost as ludicrous as a villager being a queen’s lady?”
I sneered at him.
“Although, for a savage villager, you certainly manage to outshine the other ladies,” he purred.
“Don’t try to distract me.”
He grinned down at me. “But you make it so easy.” He reached a hand up to play with the curl that had been left free over my forehead. “I like your real hair better. And I miss those strange eyes.”
“Strange?”
“Strangely beautiful.”
Something had sparked in Lorian since I’d seen him last. He was almost…charming. Was it because he was close to getting whatever it was he’d come here for?
His hand slid to my chin. “I missed the rest of you too. The way you scowl at me when I say something you disagree with. And that face you make when you’re wondering what I’d look like naked.”
My heart thundered, an entirely unwelcome awareness flooding my body. “I don’t wonder what you’d look like naked!”
“Ah, you wouldn’t need to wonder, would you? Because you watched me bathing at the inn, you wicked thing.”
My cheeks blazed. I thought back to the way he’d stretched, as if on display. Because he had been. This man was a predator at his core. Had I really thought he hadn’t felt my eyes on him?
This conversation had quickly slipped out of my control.
Lorian shifted closer to me, leaning down to sniff at my neck. I pulled my head back and planted my hands on my hips. “Whatever you’re doing here, stay out of my way.”
His expression turned serious. “Only if you restrain yourself from spying on me.”
“Fine.”
He stepped back, his eyes still intent in that strange way.
He cursed, and then he was kissing me. His lips caressed mine achingly slowly. As if I’d stopped time for us. Warmth traveled through my body, my limbs strangely languid. One of his hands slid to my ribs, right beneath my breast, and I wanted to arch my body, wanted to writhe until he was touching me higher.
He slowly lifted his head. His expression was cold, but his eyes…blazed. “Unless you want to end up in my bed, stay away from me.”
Of all the—
I shoved against his chest, and he took his time stepping back. “That will never happen,” I hissed, ignoring his low laugh. I stalked out of the room.
Tibris was waiting for me in the servants’ hall near my chambers.
“Is everything okay?”
I leaned close, keeping my voice to the barest whisper. “Lorian is here.”
His face twisted into a deep scowl. “The mercenary?” he whispered back. “Did you know about this?”
“Of course not. I don’t know what he’s up to. I swear.”
I could see Tibris mentally calculating what Lorian’s presence meant for our own plans.
“How did he get in here?”
“You’ll love this. He’s pretending to be the Gromalian prince.”
Tibris let out a choked laugh. When he realized I was serious, he sighed. “Stay away from him, Pris.”
“Oh, I will.”
“The dungeon guards are already drunk. It seems they took advantage of the distraction in the castle. We should go see Asinia now.”
Shame stabbed into my gut. I’d been busy kissing Lorian, while Asinia and Demos were waiting for us. “I need to get some food for her and Demos.”
He held up a sack. “The cook likes me.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“You look good, Pris. Royal.”
While I hated the thought of looking royal, it was exactly what we needed. “Thank Vicer for me. I need to check on Wila.” If she would even be willing to speak to me. “She’s the reason the plan worked.”
Tibris was right. Both guards were slumped against the wall, one of them with his eyes at half-mast. It was difficult to pull the thread of my magic to me today, maybe because my mind was circling through so much information. But I managed to pause time long enough for us to sneak past the guards and make our way down the stone steps.
After experiencing a royal dinner, the dungeon seemed even worse. The scent of excrement and hopelessness was heavy in the air.
“Setella,” a voice whispered, and I whirled. Wila was in one of the cells closest to the stairs. She had a black eye and a split lip.
“Go work on Asinia,” I told Tibris. His gaze flicked between Wila and me, and I just nodded at him. “It’s okay. Go.”
Fury burned through me as I knelt outside her cage.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“My real name is Prisca,” I whispered. It was the least I could give her.
Wila studied me. Her eyes were strangely clear, and she seemed older than her years. “Prisca. I like it. Vicer may not have told me who you were, but I figured it out. I hated you at first, you know.”
“I know.”
“I thought you were just another girl playing at being a rebel. We’ve been fighting back for years, and you thought you could stroll in here and change the world. It made me want to hit you.”