Page 29 of Esperance

The woman’s expression tightened a little, though her smile remained in place as she twisted to Tam. “What about you and Rivard? How was your night?”

“We did our duty,” Tam said, her voice as flat as her brown eyes.

“Ah, no more details? You two are positively killing me. What’s the point of being married and having this time together if we’re not going to share what we’ve learned from our husbands?” She let out a low groan. “Oh, very well. I suppose I can settle some other curiosities. Tam, your father is the king of Kalmar, correct?”

“Yes.” Tam lifted a brow. “And what is your connection to the king of Palar?”

Marriset’s smile firmed, making it clear she’d heard the unspoken insult in Tam’s words; the mere fact that she had to ask meant Marriset was not as high-ranking as Tam.

Amryn smiled against the rim of her cup.

“I’m the king’s second cousin,” Marriset said. “And since everyone else in my family was already married, I was chosen.” She looked to Amryn. “I’m afraid I don’t really know anything about you. Except, of course, that you have a weak constitution.”

Amryn blinked. “What do you mean?”

Marriset gestured vaguely with her small sandwich. “Well, after the fight yesterday, none of us were on the floor retching.”

Amryn stiffened.

“Leave her alone,” Tam said.

“I didn’t mean any offense,” Marriset said quickly, though her delight at hitting a nerve was obvious. “It just seems to me that, if anyone should have reacted so . . .violently, if you’ll forgive the word, I would have expected it to be Cora. It was her brother who nearly got us all killed, after all.”

Amryn darted a look to Cora, and it was clear from the way the girl broke off talking to Jayveh and Sadia that she’d heard.

Jayveh’s head turned slowly toward them, her gaze pinning Marriset. The empirical princess felt many things, all tangled up in a way that made them hard to decipher. It made it impossible to predict what she might say, though Amryn assumed her top priority would be to smooth things over. That’s what the emperor would want: peace, no matter the cost.

Her chin jutted out slightly as she faced Marriset. “There’s no need for cruelty. Not when we’ll all be living together for a year.”

The open condemnation surprised Amryn—and everyone else in the room, including Marriset.

She set down her sandwich, annoyance flaring. But she cleared her throat and spoke with a measured tone. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

“I’m relieved to hear that,” Jayveh said. “But you should work harder to avoid doing so in the future.”

Marriset’s anger was a blistering throb that made Amryn’s temples ache.

Jayveh set aside her cup of tea. “I think we should take a moment and get to know each other. Sadia, would you like to introduce yourself first?”

There was a thread of timidity from Sadia, though Amryn wasn’t sure if it was because of the tense exchange that had just happened, or the fact that she was perhaps shy by nature. But she shared a smile with them all. “I’m Sadia Kavel. My cousin is the king of Cael, and he asked me to come to Esperance so he didn’t have to break off his sister’s engagement to a local lord.” Her warm affection for her cousin was clear. “I’m now married to Prince Samuel Kenton of Wendahl, and he is . . .” Her cheeks pinkened. “Well, he’s very handsome.”

Jayveh gave Sadia a smile before she looked to Cora. “Would you like to go next?”

The girl was clearly the youngest of them all, and her grief was still potent, but she nodded. “I’m Cora Amin of Hafsin, and I’m married to Ivan Baranov of Sibet.”

She offered nothing more, and Jayveh didn’t press. She only looked to Tam.

“I’m Tam Ja’Kell,” she said, her voice a little too flat. “Rivard Quinn of Daersen is my husband now.”

When the attention shifted to Marriset, she straightened a little, like she was preening. Her smile was wide, but not wholly sincere as she said, “I’m Marriset Navarre. I’m from Palar, which is the most beautiful place in the empire. My husband is Darrin Fythen of Vadir. He’s quite important in Vadir’s court.”

When she finished and every eye shifted to Amryn, she was grateful to still hold her teacup. It kept her hands from fidgeting under their combined attention.

“I’m Amryn Lukis. I’m from Ferradin, and I’m married to Carver Vincetti, of Westmont.”

Just saying the words made her stomach churn. It didn’t matter that he’d surprised her with some kindness, some humor—he was still the Butcher. Still her enemy. Would the fact that he was her husband evernotterrify her? She doubted it.

“How are you related to the king of Ferradin?” Sadia asked.