Page 85 of Esperance

“Clearly it’s not.” Argent set a hand on Carver’s shoulder. “We can talk, too, Carve.”

“Talking is the last thing I want to do right now.”

Argent’s lips pressed into a line. “All right. But I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

He did. But how could he verbalize how he felt when he wasn’t even surewhathe felt?

The sitting room was spread out with chairs and settees arranged in such a way that multiple corners could be utilized for semi-private conversations. The high cleric stood in the far corner with Trevill and a couple of other clerics who had joined them. Rivard was speaking to Ivan, Darrin, and Marriset in another corner.

Argent was almost instantly pulled into a conversation with Samuel and Sadia, and Carver moved to find his own corner. On the way, he passed a side table with decanters and glasses. He eyed the brandy, but kept walking.

He sat on the edge of a cushioned chair and tossed back the last of his wine, then set the long-stemmed glass aside. It clicked lightly against the polished wood table.

He thought about leaving. Clearly, he wasn’t in a mood to socialize or investigate. His head ached. He’d had too much wine, yet not enough to dispel the darkening cloud that hovered over him.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t know how long he remained that way before there was a whisper of movement in front of him.

“I think you deserve this.”

He opened his eyes and lifted his head to find Marriset standing in front of him, a glass of brandy in her hand. She held it out to him, the corner of her mouth lifting. “The clerics are distracted and your wife isn’t here, so there’s no one to judge.”

He stared up at her. Marriset was beautiful, with long brown hair that fell in shiny waves, and perfectly sculpted features. Her lips were painted a deep red that complimented her olive skin. Yet all he could think when he looked at her was that she wasn’t Amryn. But he hadn’t cleared her from his suspect list, and he should take advantage of the fact that she’d approached him.

He took the offered glass.

Their fingers brushed. Hers were cool, and he felt nothing more than that.

She perched on the edge of the chair angled beside his, their knees so close they almost touched. “The debate today was quite intense.”

“It was.” He took a sip of the amber liquid and swallowed the welcome burn.

She leaned toward him, setting a hand lightly on his forearm. Beneath her fingers, his muscles bunched.

“I’m sorry if anything Ivan said upset you,” she said. “I hope you know that not all of us agree with what he had to say. You’re a hero, Carver. And anyone who thinks otherwise isn’t worth your attention.”

“Thank you.” His voice was a little dull. To cover it, he took another drink.

Marriset withdrew her hand and crossed one leg over the other. Her foot gently bumped his shin as she picked at her red skirt, adjusting it primly over her knee. Her eyes shined as she caught him watching. “It didn’t escape my notice that Amryn seemed a bit bothered by the debate.”

He made a sound in his throat that could have been agreement. And maybe it was, because she clearlyhadbeen bothered.

Marriset shook her head. “She does seem to be a quiet sort. Not one for any type of confrontation.” She paused, clearly waiting for a response.

He thumbed the edge of his glass. “I think her issue wasn’t with the debate, so much as with me.”

“Oh?” Her interest made the back of his neck itch. She was the type of woman he normally avoided, but she was seeking some sort of connection with him; probably since she’d realized by now that Argent would not be swayed from Jayveh, but she still craved power. He’d noticed the way she had focused on him during the debate, and he should have anticipated her attention.

Having drunk too much tonight might prove helpful after all. It would help dull the voice that told him not to return her flirtations.

He bit his lower lip, his eyes locking on hers. “She hasn’t exactly been fond of me.” He hated that that wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Really?” Her dark eyes widened. “You’ve seemed so happy with each other. I would have guessed you make the strongest match, next to Argent and Jayveh.”

“No one could really be happier than them.”

She chuckled. “True. It’s a little nauseating, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” He shifted in the chair, twisting slightly more toward her as he lowered his chin and his voice. “He’s my friend, but I can’t help but wonder why he’s even here. Obviously his match wasn’t a blind one, like ours.”