Page 34 of Esperance

“If you don’t, I’ll come find you.”

The air between them was charged with their flirtation and mutual attraction. The depth of Argent’s feelings for Jayveh, and the overall kindness inside him . . . Amryn hadn’t expected any of that from the heir to the empirical throne.

Jayveh took Amryn’s arm and led her away. Behind them, they could hear Marriset clear her throat. “Darrin, didn’t you want to ask Argent about the revised farm tax in Vadir? I thought your proposal was rather fascinating . . .”

The moment they were far enough away, Jayveh ducked her head toward Amryn. “A drink is the only way we’ll make it through the night without strangling her.”

A small smile tugged at Amryn’s lips. Jayveh’s annoyance was as sharp as her own when it came to Marriset. It was an easy thing to bond over, though she had to admit, she’d enjoyed Jayveh’s company today. The princess had a no-nonsense attitude, and usually spoke exactly what she felt—which was refreshing. But she was also kind, and that rare combination of honesty and compassion made Jayveh much less exhausting to be around than the others.

While Amryn still didn’t know what the rebels would ask of her, she knew she should take this opportunity to befriend the future empress of Craethen. And, since Jayveh made it so easy, Amryn’s reply was nearly effortless. “You handled her expertly at tea.”

“Thank you. I tried to be diplomatic, but . . . Well, if I were slightly less civilized, I may have followed Carver’s example and broken her nose.” They reached the sideboard, and the princess poured two fingers of the brandy and offered the glass to Amryn. “How are you feeling about Carver?” Jayveh asked.

Wary. Apprehensive. Confused.Nothing she was going to say aloud. “I’m not sure.”

Jayveh’s head tipped to the side. “How does he feel about you?”

Mildly surprised. Cautious. Curious.Amryn tightened her hold on the glass. “How should I know?”

“I thought it might be obvious.” She gestured with her chin. “Marriset and Darrin try to appear like a power couple, but they’re both disappointed in their match; Marriset wanted Argent, and Darrin probably wanted Tam, since Vadir has been trying to negotiate better trade routes with Kalmar for years. Sadia and Samuel are actually quite pleased with each other—notice how they can’t stop touching and smiling at each other?”

Amryn followed Jayveh’s gaze, and she did indeed catch sight of stolen touches and endearing glances between Sadia and Samuel.

Jayveh’s voice lowered a little further. “Cora and Ivan are an interesting match, though. She’s so quiet and young, and he’s . . .” She didn’t finish, but she didn’t really have to.

Ivan was the largest man in the room. He was tall with broad shoulders. His expression rode the line between bored and brooding, and his long blond hair slightly shielded ice-blue eyes that seemed to miss nothing.

“They’re both quiet,” Amryn said. “So I suppose they have that in common.”

“That’s true enough.” Jayveh’s eyes drifted to the last couple in the room—Rivard and Tam. “He seems a bit grim, but that’s probably more about his broken nose than his marriage. Truthfully, he seems nearly as listless about Tam as she is about him.”

Amryn eyed the princess. “You certainly notice a lot.”

The princess snorted. “As if you don’t. I can tell you’re a quiet observer, like me. Did I miss anything?”

Amryn shrugged. “I’m not very good at reading people.”

“Hmm.” Jayveh took a sip, then grinned. “Carver’s eyes rarely wandered from you at breakfast, or during the tour. I think that’s telling, don’t you?”

“He’s not the first to stare at my flaming red hair.”

Jayveh opened her mouth, but before she could pursue the topic, the dinner bell rang.

High Cleric Zacharias walked in from the dining hall, beaming at them. “It’s so good to see you all. I can’t wait to hear your impressions after your first day at Esperance. Come!” He waved them forward, and Jayveh left Amryn so she and Argent could exit the room first, arm in arm.

Amryn hung back, watching as the other couples fell in line.

High Cleric Zacharias spotted her and crossed the floor. “Lady Vincetti, where is your husband?”

Her heart hammered, having a cleric stand so close to her. Any bit of levity she’d felt while talking to Jayveh had vanished. “I’m not sure,” she said, finally answering him. “He must have been delayed somewhere.”

The high cleric frowned, which pulled at the wrinkles carved into his face. “Well, allow me to escort you, my child.” He extended an elbow, and ice shot through Amryn’s veins.

The high cleric had surely gotten his rank through years of service to the church. Years of oppressing others. Years of standing by—or even standing witness—as empaths were slaughtered by the Order of Knights.

How many cries for mercy had this man personally ignored? Hundreds?

“Lady Vincetti?” Zacharias lifted his elbow a little higher. “Shall we?”