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But he really didn’t want to do that.

It would create more problems.

He needed to do this carefully and get Duke Keventin on his side.

Gideon strode by his side as they meandered through the open market, his ever-loyal spymaster. No one ever suspected his friend of being deadly with a blade. He was underestimated at every turn because of his fair looks, which suited them both. Gideon could gallivant around as Raziel’s ambassador, gossiping and flirting, all while protecting the king’s back and collecting information without seeming threatening.

The scent of fried dough, roasted meat, sweet fruit, and incense perfumed the sea air along with hints of brine and fish. Exotic fabrics waved in the breeze, and jewelry sparkled in the sunlight, gleaming from velvet trays. His warriors mingled with the crowd, ever close but not overbearing.

“Did you see Keventin’s face?” Gideon muttered underneath his breath. He smiled and winked at one of Lady Keventin’s ladies, who trailed a little ahead of them with the queen. She batted her lashes and glanced away coyly, pretending to admire a painted scarf.

Raziel nodded, eyeing his wife and the way she drifted through the crowd, barely engaging with any of the merchants. She’d certainly not been herself this morning. He’d gone to the beach for their early meditation, and Mer hadn’t been there.

It bothered him more than he’d wanted to admit.

Over the last week, Raz had thought they’d made some progress. Maybe she hated him a little less or had come to terms with the fact that they were stuck together for life.

Apparently not.

Trying to catch her eye proved unfruitful. Why the cold shoulder? All the life seemed to have been drained out of her. After Mer’s excitement over the music last night, he procured the bard to visit them at the palace. She seemed to be fond of music, and if it made things a little more peaceful between them, so be it.

Frustrated, he glanced away at Keventin on his right, and the four deep cuts across his cheek, jaw, and neck. The man chatted with a goldsmith and gestured to his face.

“Subdued the vicious thing before it had a chance to take another swipe at me.” The duke grinned cockily at the merchant, puffing out his chest. “Would like to have another go at the beastie.”

“It would be entertaining, to be sure,” the goldsmith replied.

Raziel brushed a small braid from his cheek and tucked it behind his ear. He didn’t think that was the whole story. The tight skin around Keventin’s eyes and the anger that he held just beneath the surface told Raz something different. If only he’d been around to see what actually happened.

The older man was as vain as they came.

If the cat story was true, then he hadn’t expected to be attacked, or else he wouldn’t have engaged. The duke liked winning. He always stacked the odds in his favor. The fact that he’d lost to a beast seemed... odd or rather fortuitous.

No, Raz suspected something else altogether had occurred. But what?

“They’re pretty ugly,” Gideon breathed, flashing a smile at a buxom merchant’s wife, who blushed furiously and set about organizing their carved candlesticks.

“That they are.” He kept from rolling his eyes and smiled at the old carver, who glared at his wife, unabashedly fanning her face. Raz stifled the chuckle that threatened to escape at their display. Gideon always had that effect on the fair sex everywhere he went. It didn’t matter their age either.

His friend pursed his lips. “Do you believe him?”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe, only that he agrees to enforce the new changes I’ve proposed.” Pushback wasn’t an option. He peered over his shoulder at Keventin, who untangled himself from his wife and winked at a servant girl carrying a box.

Irreprehensible.

“If he’s smart, he will,” Gideon replied. “He’s been taxing the people more, and none of that has gone to the royal coffers but into his own pockets. Some could construe that as embezzlement.”

Raziel grunted in agreement.

The markets grew crowded, people bowing and curtsying as they passed by. A woman with a decorative curtain formed of sea shells and underwater trinkets caught his eye. The queen had slowed, her fingers gently running over gilded shells, pearl hairpins, ocean jasper rings, and coral bracelets.

Her fingers lingered on a soft green pearl hairpin for a long moment before she reached up to her short hair. A flash of regret crossed her face before she moved on. If she hated her hair short, why cut it?

More questions and no answers.

His wife continued on, speaking softly to Duchess Keventin who had caught up.

Raz approached the stall, and the windswept woman with dark brown hair and skin bowed low, her eyes on the ground. He picked up the hairpin and studied it.