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“I…” Dagmara’s voice ran dry. How would Magda answer this question? Rather, how would Magda answer this question in front of her future husband who may have ordered her family’s assassination?

“Forgive me, that was insensitive,” Claude said. “My deepest condolences to you and your mother. Did you find out who was behind the terrible attack?”

Her body froze. Flashes of Aleksy’s dead body flooded her mind, followed by the image of the assassin who escaped wearing Ilusaurian armor.

“No,” she managed to say.

“Nothing at all?”

Dagmara eyed him incredulously. “I’m not sure what you want me to say. They were murdered, and our kingdom will seek justice.”

Claude nodded before sitting back in his chair and motioning toward the door.

Dagmara could’ve sworn the side of his mouth twitched, almost as if he was repressing a smirk.

Moments later a servant approached the table with a pitcher in his grasp. The young man poured a sip of wine into the third glass on the table before drinking it himself. Then, he proceeded to pour the wine into both Claude and Dagmara’s glasses in turn.

She would not be able to slip anything into Claude’s drinks if the servants were required to taste them in front of the king. Any sleeping potions she had were useless here, and she wouldn’t be able to use a truth serum.

“Your Majesty,” the servant dipped his head before setting the pitcher down on the table, picking up the third glass, and leaving.

King Claude’s safety protocols were meticulous.

Another servant emerged, repeating the same process with two small plates of what looked to be like a bite-sized quiche. She was unsure. The plates were set down in front of them and immediately Dagmara searched for what she needed. Salt. It was the one thing that helped her dizziness, and she over-salted all of her food. But there was no salt on the table.

Claude reached forward to take the stem of his glass, but he didn’t drink yet. “As you see, I don’t take any chances when it comes to protection.” It was almost as if he was warning her not to try anything.

“Do you have salt?” Dagmara blurted out.

Claude’s expression shifted, his eyebrows twisting on his forehead. “Probably. Why?”

She let out a sigh. “Nevermind.”

Claude continued, “I understand you don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you. It is good to be cautious. I only want what is best for our kingdoms, and marriage would ensure that.”

Dagmara took the stem of her own wine glass. “I also want what is best for my kingdom’s people,” she said, her mind entirely on Teos and the medicine he needed.

He gave her a subtle smile before raising his glass. Then he drank a sip of the wine, his throat bobbing, and Dagmara watched him while she drank her own.

The wine was sweet and aromatic, with a hint of bitter aftertaste that left her wanting more. She had to stop herself before she let out an audible sigh of pleasure.

“Is there anything you’d like to know about me first?” Claude asked, setting his glass down.

She wanted to know if he killed Aleksy. She wanted to know if he felt any guilt. She wanted to know why he invaded Celestaire and—

One thing at a time.

“There are many things, Your Majesty, but I don’t think they are appropriate for our first meeting,” Dagmara said. “Perhaps you can tell me what you love about Ilusauri.”

And why the countryside seemed to be in a famine while the palace was overflowing with life.

Claude gripped his glass so tight she thought it would shatter. He shifted forward in his chair, his eyes now venomous. “I had hoped you weren’t so susceptible to rumors, Princess.”

“Which rumors are you referring to?”

He didn’t entirely answer her question as he said with a growl, “You really believe I killed my parents when I was only thirteen?”

It wasn’t a denial. Dagmara knew she was treading on thin ice and had to choose her next words very wisely. What would Magda say?