Page 18 of Bartered by the Shadow Prince (Bargain with the Shadow Prince #3)

Evening Meal

DAMIEN

W hen we arrive at the castle, a footman meets us at the door and informs us that we are expected at evening meal.

It is the traditional time of night. No doubt, my brother has been stewing over where I’ve been and who I’ve spoken to all day.

I have no doubt that if I’d given him any inclination of where I was going, he’d have kept me from seeing the truth.

The cryptic note I left the housekeeper to relay to him would have only served to ignite his curiosity all the more.

Eloise is dressed appropriately for dinner in her new ensemble, but I use shadow magic to transform into formal wear as I follow the servant into the dining room.

A long, low whistle comes from Eloise when she sees me in the finery, her previously thoughtful expression morphing to one alight with mischief. “Daaaamn. Hi, handsome. How you doin’?”

I smile over my shoulder at her and send her a wink. “Just thinking about what I’d like to do to you once we’re on the other side of this dinner.”

She sighs. “Right. Dinner with the tyrants. This should be interesting.”

I flash her a silencing glare. “We’ve just seen what the king and queen are capable of, little bird. Be careful.”

She looks as if she has more to say, but we both school our features as we enter the tension-filled dining room. Brahm scowls at us from the center of the table. Beside him, the glare from tight-faced Nevina makes my skin prickle.

“It’s about time, brother,” Brahm says, his red tunic perfectly in style for harvest season. “You’ve dined with us regularly. By now, I’d expect you’d have gleaned the customary time for evening meal?”

I look out the window at the setting moon, its last light just now sinking over the horizon. “I am aware. It is moonset, is it not? It appears we’re right on time.”

Nevina sneers, lifting her chin to stare down her thin, sharp nose at us.

“Moonset is when the meal is served. We gather before then for drinks and to discuss the goings-on of the kingdom. Considering how new you are to your role, I think it’s important you attend until we can bring you up to speed. ”

I give her a nod of acquiescence, although I fail to see how the role of stable manager requires a daily update from the king and queen themselves. “How careless of me. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Eloises’s hand grows tense within my own. I give it a squeeze.

“It’s just that we had no idea where you’d run off to,” she persists. “We would have provided a royal carriage if you’d requested?—”

“I don’t mind riding,” Eloise says. “I enjoyed seeing the kingdom at my own pace.”

Nevina’s mouth bends into a frown. “That may be so, but you must be more concerned with your safe—” Her eyes sweep over Eloise, pink rising in her cheeks. “Where did you get that dress?” She snaps out the words, spitting them toward my mate like razor-sharp tacks.

I answer before Eloise has a chance. “I took Eloise to my mother’s dressmaker in Bolvet. Ariadne was able to provide her this one on short notice. More are coming.”

“This is unacceptable. Cancel the order.” By the displeasure she casts on the garment, one would think it was plastered with animal excrement.

“I find it lovely,” I say calmly. I want her or Brahm to say it. I want them to admit exactly what they’re doing to Bolvet. “What about it is displeasing to you?”

Nevina’s lips draw back from her teeth. She flips a hand toward my mate. “You, as a male, might not have noticed, but this is no longer the style popular among the royal court. She’ll be an embarrassment.”

“No more embarrassing than wearing a dress that does not fit. Besides, it’s not so different from the one you’re wearing,” Eloise says. “Other than the color.”

In fact, the dresses the women are wearing are remarkably similar in style, although Eloise’s is more finely crafted and a more flattering hue.

Nevina’s back straightens like she takes offense. “Considerably different to those with a discerning eye.”

At the edge of my field of vision, I notice Eloise’s expression turn icy.

It’s subtle. Her smile tightens and no longer reaches her eyes.

“Hmm, it must be because you are relying on sight and not your other senses. This material is far superior when it comes to softness, comfort, and drape. See how it picks up the light?” She extends the cloth and turns slowly.

“Honestly, if it’s not the style yet, I predict it will be once the women of the kingdom experience it.

” She runs her hand over the bodice. “Thank you for warning me about the potential for judgment from the other royals, though. It’s better I’m prepared for it. ”

Now, Nevina’s face is positively swollen with fury. Her lips part, but it’s Brahm who speaks, and his words fall heavy from his lips. “It’s more than the material, Eloise. Doing business with Bolvet Village is prohibited. Ariadne should have informed you.”

I act surprised, and Eloise plays along, forming a large O with her lips. “Prohibited. For what reason?”

Brahm darts a glance at his queen before answering. “They have refused to acknowledge our rule of New Stygarde. They did not attend Nevina’s coronation and have not paid their taxes. Technically, you’ve broken the law by doing business there.”

“Taxes?” Eloise says. “They didn’t look like they could afford to feed themselves, let alone pay any taxes.”

Brahm shrugs. “They’ll find a way, when they’re hungry enough. And if they want to earn my mercy. They know what they need to do.”

Before Eloise can say another word, I tug her to my side.

“Unfortunately, we weren’t aware of the tensions between the kingdom and Bolvet, and we’ve already purchased the dresses.

Is there a fine we must pay, or will you accept an apology from your brother?

How much in taxes does the village owe? Perhaps I can settle up for them and make it right. ”

Nevina sniffs. “That would not do. They must bend the knee. But since what’s done is done, consider it your duty, Damien, and your penance to encourage their compliance. And I trust you will not make the same mistake twice.”

Brahm glares at us both.

“We will not,” I promise.

Eloise winces, her stare boring into the side of my head.

“Very well. Then we’ll consider this matter settled.

Please sit. Dinner will be served shortly.

” Brahm gestures across the enormous table at two empty seats.

I pull one out for Eloise, and she sits, spending more time than necessary adjusting her skirts as if to draw attention to the beautiful fabric.

My little dragon does not realize that she’s playing with fire.

Or maybe she does. She has proven herself a complete failure at self-preservation.

The servants bring out the first course.

It’s a pile of thin shavings of red stag, marinated in herbs and spices.

After the villagers were so thankful for a simple meal, the dichotomy numbs my palate.

Brahm and Nevina dig in, and I take a bite.

It will be considered rude if I don’t. I wouldn’t be so concerned about inviting their wrath if I could guarantee Eloise’s safety from the consequences.

I desperately want this meal to be over so we can talk.

Thankfully, Eloise seems to understand because she pops a slice into her mouth and chews. I take a sip of the wine, my shoulders softening in relief. By the gods, is it possible my little dragon has put her teeth away for the night?

“Aside from bending the knee, how many quill does Bolvet owe you?” Eloise asks.

I bristle, my eyes closing for half a second. Here we go.

The sound of silverware clinking against plates stops. Brahm and Nevina glare at her.

“It is quill, right? Am I saying the name of the currency correctly?”

I clear my throat. Brahm’s expression is livid. I nudge her with my knee. “It’s correct, but perhaps this isn’t the time?—”

My little dragon smiles as if she’s holding the topic in her teeth. “If you want Damien and me to encourage Bolvet to meet your requirements, we have to know what we’re asking for.”

A muscle in Nevina’s jaw twitches, and Brahm watches her with what I might mistake as fear, although why this should frighten him, I have no idea. “Damien…” he says with a note of warning and annoyance.

“This isn’t the right time, Eloise,” I say firmly. “The topic has been dismissed.”

She frowns at me and takes another bite of stag in what I can only suspect is her attempt to keep herself quiet.

“No,” Nevina says, lifting her chin and glaring at Eloise. Their gazes tangle in an unseen tug-of-war. “In this case, she’s right. We shouldn’t ask you to be our ambassador to the village without your knowing exactly what it will take to move Bolvet under the umbrella of our good graces.”

Eloise swallows, holding absolutely still under that icy gaze of the queen’s.

“Each citizen of Bolvet must appear before me and swear an oath on bended knee to accept me as their sovereign queen and serve me to their death. Afterward, I will receive the tax they owe, but it is not one they can pay in quill.”

“Then what is it?” Eloise asks. I say nothing, but I have a terrible feeling. If not quills, then it has to be blood. What else could she require of them?

The queen lifts her chin. “They must select one child from their community to become a servant of the palace.”

I swallow through a constricting throat. This is highly irregular. “A child?”

“For how long?” Eloise snaps. “What type of servant?”

The queen takes another bite, waving her fingers as if the entire conversation is tiresome to her.

“We need shades to work the fields. If the villages want to enjoy the abundance of our land, be it crops or meat, they must make an offering of one citizen to work that land. Their service is for life.”

Eloise darts a glance in my direction. I know what she’s thinking. She saw the shades working the fields, the shades who looked like they were starving, the shades whose eyes were glazed as if they were barely alive. “For life? You don’t make them servants—you make them slaves!”

Nevina sniffs. “This has been the way of the elves of Willowgulch for centuries. We leave it up to the gods. A simple lottery, a name left to the will of fate, and it is done. It should be considered an honor to serve one’s kingdom.”

“An honor to work oneself to death like those shades I saw in the fields today? They looked half starved and completely hopeless.”

“Our servants are fed adequately,” Nevina says more sternly. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand what is required to keep the peace in a kingdom such as this.”

Eloise’s chin drops, a disgusted scowl twisting her features.

My mate clearly believes the strategy is tyrannical, but Nevina settles back into her chair with a small smile as if she finds the policy ingenious.

I look to my brother, who has fallen conspicuously silent, but Brahm doesn’t lift his eyes from his meal. This is dark elf tradition. Such a thing was unheard of in Stygarde before the war.

Nevina turns her attention toward me. “Damien, I will forgive your mate’s insolence because she’s not from here and isn’t familiar with our ways, but perhaps it is time we changed the topic of conversation. Even my tolerance has its limits.”

“My apologies. We are both adjusting,” I say through a tight jaw.

Eloise gapes, but I squeeze her leg under the table. Thankfully, the fish course is served along with red wheat rolls that add color to the all-white table. The interruption gives me a chance to whisper in her ear. “Not now, little dragon.”

She pulls away from me and takes a long drink of her wine. She says nothing more. For the rest of the meal, her eyes never leave her plate.