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Many had opted to switch professions and most refused to work beneath their former masters. Arianna didn’t ask why. It would only breed anger, and Zylah had once told her that a slave’s suffering was their own burden to bear. Arianna wouldn’t violate them by prying.

“I want a hot bath drawn,” a loud female voice demanded. “And breakfast brought to my room. Don’t forget the wine,” she added quickly. Wine? The sun had barely risen.

They rounded the corner and a tall, beautiful female with wavy dark blonde hair spun to greet them. Emerald green eyes locked with her own. Rion’s eyes. Her scent was similar too, though hers carried a floral undertone Rion’s lacked.

The female placed her gloves on a nearby tray held by a servant, then kicked off her dirty boots. That’s when Arianna noticed the dry blood caking her sleeves and torso. Concern flew through her, but the female didn’t appear hurt. Arianna wasn’t sure she wanted to know where the blood had come from.

But seeing a warrior armed from head to toe in a pair of white socks was enough to elicit a smile from Arianna.

“I didn’t want to drag in the mud,” Saoirse explained. “Or blood. It’s too nice in here to dirty up the floors, even if there are servants to clean it.”

Servants. Not slaves. The change in reference wasn’t lost on Arianna. She knew Brónach kept slaves. A female about Arianna’s age stood behind Saoirse even now, but she didn’t have iron around her wrists.

Saoirse’s gaze locked with Arianna’s. Arianna wasn’t sure what the female saw there, but she smiled in greeting.

Then Rion’s magic flared to life.

Saoirse laughed. “Relax, little brother, I’m not going to steal your mate.” Arianna cocked her head in confusion. “Rion knows I prefer females.” She waved a hand. “As such, his instincts demand he keep you away from me. But,” she said, lowering her voice. “He’ll just have to get over that because I fully intend to steal a dance.”

Rion bristled, then settled himself. He glanced at the blood on her clothes and frowned. “Did you run into trouble?”

She waved her hand again. “Nothing I couldn’t handle, but I had to stay up for the rest of the trip and now I’m starving, filthy, and plan to sleep the afternoon away. However,” Saoirse approached and Arianna wasn’t sure whether she should back away or remain where she was. His sister took her hand and kissed the back of it, eliciting a soft growl from her brother that she ignored. “I wasn’t going to do any of those things without officially meeting you.” Arianna was at a loss for words. Something sparked in the female’s gaze as she turned to her brother. “I hope my little brother hasn’t told too many lies about me.”

“N—No, not at all.”

Saoirse’s smile widened. “Relax, I’m only teasing. No need to be so serious.”

The confident female before her opened her mouth to speak again, but every muscle in Saoirse’s body froze. Her smile faded, earlier bravado completely forgotten as she twisted toward a doorway in the hall. Arianna followed her gaze. Zylah stood there, clipboard in one hand and a tray of food and drink in the other.

Both females stared, but neither moved.

Zylah assessed Saoirse in a way that told Arianna they’d met before. Then Zylah noticed the female at Saoirse’s side. Her nose crinkled, anger poured from her body, then she spun on her heel and stormed away.

Saoirse’s countenance fell, but she quickly recovered and cleared her throat. “I’m sure you have a lot to do before tomorrow, so no need to stand on formalities. There will be enough of that to last a lifetime.”

Saoirse turned to those waiting to guide her to her rooms and then she was gone, chatting with the servant until they were down the hall. The last thing Arianna heard was Saoirse’s call for an entire bottle of wine instead of just a glass.

Chapter Thirty-eight

Rion

Rion didn’t recognize the male staring at him through the reflection of the floor length mirror. He didn’t recognize the smooth black suite clinging to his body. Or the silk shirt underneath. The gold cufflinks at his wrists. The polished black boots.

The male standing there was someone else entirely. A male who might have been worthy to walk beside The Divine. Her mate in another life who didn’t carry scars from his past. One who was refined and could speak to others in a way that would reel them in. A male who might have been able to help her rule.

He was none of those things. His entire persona inspired fear. His past cast a cloud over her good intentions. He’d seen the way everyone stared, questioning her judgment, and Rion hated himself for it.

Rion tilted his head, examining the hair that now fell perfectly around his pointed ears. Ellie had pulled him away from Arianna, claiming she had something for him to wear, and once they were in the hall, she’d declared herself his personal barber.

He’d hated every second of the experience and Ellie had swatted—actually swatted—at his magic more than once, then had threatened to shave his head entirely if he didn’t give her a little room to work. She’d said if she wanted to kill him, she certainly wouldn’t use a pair of scissors because it wouldn’t make for a very interesting story.

He’d rolled his eyes but smiled. He wasn’t sure he would ever trust Ellie entirely, but something about Arianna’s little sister was growing on him. He imagined she’d gotten the dimensions for his clothes from Arianna.

Rion looked himself over again. Gods, how long had it been since he’d attended a formal engagement? Probably since his early twenties, and he’d ruined the affair by throwing someone across the room after they’d tried to put a knife in his back.

Kirian sat in a corner of the room, offering suggestions whenever Ellie asked. She held up a tie, ignoring the way Rion’s sand rose to wrap around her arms when she approached. Rion didn’t miss the way the half-breed’s heart rate spiked, nor the way he leaned forward as if he might protect Ellie.

Rion studied the female. She never jumped away, never so much as flinched from him the way so many others did. She’d heard the stories. She knew his past.