Page 87

My stomach jumps. “Saw what?”

“The black knight. He’s the king.”

I laugh but it sounds awkward to my ears.

“Who was behind the screen? No, wait. Why didn’t he choose to play onmyteam?”

“Maybe he thought too close, and you’d figure it out?”

“I’d have been a better pick over that aklo.”

I grimace for her. “Does it... bother you?”

“Does what bother me?”

“What you saw.” Confusion creases her brow. I press on. “It botheredme, watching him flirt with that aklo.”

“Aklo?” She laughs softly with surprise and looks at me. “Flirting with an aklo doesn’t bother me.”

I stop, bewildered. “He’s yourhusband.”

“Only on paper. If inks fade and paper burns, no marriage is left.”

I stop walking and stare at her.

She tugs me to keep moving. Numbly, I fall into step beside her.

“I can’t believe you’d be fine with—”

“Wearefine with this. I’ll quietly take care of my own happiness. And I hope he takes care of his.”

My voice falls to a secret hush. “Haveyou taken care of your own happiness?”

“Not yet. But when I do, she will be the one to get my lovelight.”

My gaze shoots to hers.

“You see? I won’t be upset if he flirts or falls for an aklo. But Cael,” concern touches her eyes, and she stares deep into mine. She looks away with a shake of her head, frowning. “Never mind.” She smiles up at me with sudden jubilance. “You and Nicostratus were laughing together after the game. You two are sweet.”

“Fate threw us together as children—I guess it’s thrown us together again.”

Veronica lets out a whooshing sigh and laughs. “So happy to hear that. And you’re friendly with Constantinos. Which is important. They’re brothers after all, youshouldall get on. Yes. Yes, it’s all good.”

“Veronica...”

“Let’s head that way.” She pivots towards the conservatory, but we’re stopped by her own grim-faced aklos before we enter.

“Urgent correspondence from Hinsard.”

Veronica takes the extended letter. Once the aklos bow out of sight, she opens it and sags against me with a gasp.

I wrap an arm around her.

She shakes her head and I help her to a bench under a tree. With trembling hands, she rereads the letter. “The general at the southern border has died. Forty thousand of father’s army have moved there until a new general arrives.”

“So many?”

“The treaties between border kingdoms and ours are fragile. With fractured leadership the army will be in disarray—weakness the Iskaldir army might take advantage of. Father’s right to support. It’ll keep the peace.”