Page 43

An ache flared in his chest. They’d lost manyfiileeand riders. In fact, he’d almost lost Gideon, in addition to his bonded.

He took another deep sip of his wine as his friends watched him quietly.

Gideon cocked his head. “When was the last time you...”

The murmur of the crowd rose in volume.

“The queen!”

“A Sirenidae.”

“What is she wearing?”

Raziel sat up straighter, Gideon and Valen stepping aside. He blinked at his wife, who’d stepped into the banquet hall. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth at the expanse of skin she showed. His admiration was quickly followed by annoyance. She was practically naked.

“Are those your . . . curtains?” Valen grunted.

Indeed they were.

He knew for a fact that his mother had delivered an appropriate dress for the occasion, and yet his bloody wife was wearing his curtains. She’d managed to wrap the black damask fabric into a mockery of a dress. Her entire left leg was exposed, along with the upper part of her midriff showcasing a marking between her breasts. The makeshift straps wrapped around her neck and tied at the back. She turned to the right, taking Chancellor Ortunge’s hand, and her musical laugh echoed in the room, filling his ears.

His breath caught as she turned to whisper something in Ortunge’s ear, revealing her entire exposed back. The fabric clung to the base of her spine, and he stared at the dimples winking at him from her lower back.

His chancellor would have a field day about her behavior at their next council meeting. Just what he needed.

Valen whistled. “What a charming dress.” His tone said anything but.

The Sirenidae smiled as the crowd stood and bowed when she made her way farther into the room, causing a stir in her wake.

Not once did her gaze land on Raz. Instead, she fluttered her lashes at old men, laughed at lame jokes, complimented women on their dresses, and smiled brightly at all.

She was an actress. Both an asset and a danger.

His wife finally made it to the dais. Valen and Gideon both bowed to her.

Raziel held her gaze and kept his mask in place as she smirked at him, batting her long lashes, which had been tinted a deep purple.

“My lord,” she murmured.

“My lady,” he replied. “What a fetching... dress.”

Her smile widened. She cocked her hip, exposing more of her left leg. He blinked slowly as he finally noticed the marks. She had bruises on her thighs.

In the shape of his hands.

His lips pressed together as he took a closer look at her outfit. Sure, he assumed she had wanted to shock his assembly, but she had wrapped the fabric purposely to show off each and every mark she’d sustained from their fight.

It was a challenge.

A declaration.

One that said ‘you can’t control me.’

“Sorry I’m late,” she said. “It took me longer than I expected to get ready.” Her attention moved to the empty chair at his side. “Is that for me?”

Raziel set down his wine. “It is.”

“It’s lovely but it won’t do.”