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“They…” Mehl rubbed his palm against his ear. “They left the palace? That, I did not expect.”

“Nor did I. It is suspicious.”

Mehl thought back to the group who’d entered the throne room, especially the “herald,” and nodded. “Did Feref have them trailed?”

“That he did,” Toren replied.

With a huff, Ria rolled to her back, flinging her arm wide across the covers. But the move was more indolent than annoyed, and her expression was sated rather than angry. An “I don’t want to be awake” sort of huff, then. She was surely tired. Their first round of lovemaking had been followed by a second, and it wasn’t even evening yet.

“You didn’t end up dismissing Feref because of me, did you?” she mumbled. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

Toren smiled. “I did not, but I fear he may bemoan that choice after all the extra work he’ll be doing.”

Ria relaxed against the bed. “Thank you.”

Abruptly, Toren sat up, giving Mehl a view of his gods-wrought back as he leaned over Ria. Mehl had just started to contemplate which muscle he’d lick first when Toren spoke.

“You may regret the thanks, my lady.” Toren twined a strand of her hair around his finger. “Feref’s next job will be seeing you properly prepared for dinner with the court. I’ve decided to announce our contract there. Tonight.”

Ria’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. Mehl had a feeling he looked much the same. Hadn’t they decided to discuss this later? Where had this resolve come from? For resolve it was. Mehl had long learned it was a waste of time arguing when Toren took on that kingly tone. The amount of effort required to change his path then was rarely worth the effort.

The question was…would Ria agree?

Chapter17

Dinner Plans

Toren wanted to dowhat?

Had his expression looked less determined, Ria might have thought he was jesting. But although his tone had been light, there was no humor on his face. “Did I miss a vital conversation?” she demanded.

His lips thinned, but he stroked his thumb gently against the strand of her hair he still held. “I will not have today’s mistake repeated. The Centoi refused our hospitality, so I see no reason to delay.”

Of course he didn’t. He’d spent centuries at the High Table. The rules and expectations were practically ingrained in his blood, and if he did stumble, none would dare to challenge him. Any mistake in etiquette would probably become a new trend. But as soon as the announcement of their contract was made, all focus would be on her.

Not in a nice way, either.

“It would be bad enough at court,” Ria said softly, her hand going to his chest. “But that is short-lived. A formal dinner? That takes hours, and I would be trapped at the table for all of it. Would I even be seated beside you? Either of you? I’m not royalty. We aren’t married or engaged.”

He dropped her lock of hair and leaned his weight on both arms, caging her in more thoroughly. “You will be seated where I wish.”

Her body went hot—he’d looked much like this when he’d claimed her earlier—but she had to ignore her desire. It was more important to discover the reason behind the intensity in his eyes. “I’m clueless about royal protocol. We all know it. So why are you so determined to do this tonight?”

The muscles in his cheeks flexed. “There should be no doubt, not by anyone, that you belong to me and Mehl. I will not return to the family wing to find that you have been shuffled elsewhere. Never again.”

Ria held his gaze, though her heart thumped a heady beat. She didn’t want to think about the thrill of his claim, one he couldn’t fully mean. This arrangement was temporary. Wasn’t it? She was too afraid to delve into the heart of that question. They’d given her rooms in the family wing, and Toren called her his. But once she’d borne his child, that would no doubt change.

Especially after she humiliated him with her lack of knowledge.

“Toren…” Mehl began. “Perhaps this is too much.”

Ria grimaced. It was good that one of the kings understood her limitations, but the embarrassment still stung. “You can’t want me to sit at the High Table while the nobles study my every move,” she said. “As soon as you announce the breeding contract, I won’t be able to hold a fork slightly off without it being the evening’s gossip.”

Toren’s nostrils flared. “Would you prefer I hide you away?”

“Maybe,” Ria answered at once. “At least when it comes to formal events. I suspect I will not be popular amongst the nobility, so the less I am seen, the better.”

Mehl sent her a sympathetic smile. “They do eventually grow accustomed to our ignoble intrusion.”