Page 8

CHAPTER 8

A nother dreadful dinner.

It was a record how many my father was able to squeeze into the span of a week. I was aware we had other royal parties visiting, but I didn’t think it called for a formal dinner with everyone in attendance nearly every night.

To go along with my feelings on this dinner, I put as minimal effort into getting ready as I could, leaving my hair down and not caring if my dress was wrinkled. I was tired from another day of filling crates full of vials for my father. He was gifting them to the other kings and queens as a show of his wealth—and I supposed his gratitude for their visit.

I never saw where the crates went after the guards brought them up, and truthfully, I didn’t care to. My job was to duplicate the magic, not follow its every move, which was my excuse to slip away this morning and return the healing vial to the kitchens. I’d told the redhead I’d grab a snack while I waited for him to help them with the crates, and while I technically had stolen a few berries, I’d wanted to be alone in there for an entirely different reason. Surely, the guard wouldn’t have asked why I had the vial in the first place, but I didn’t want to raise any unnecessary questions.

Now, as soon as I stepped foot in the dining hall, my father’s voice boomed across the massive room, grating on my eardrums. “A moment, Auria.”

Eyes snapped between the two of us but quickly averted as I walked to my father’s side. His deep red suit was buttoned all the way to his neck, not a single thread frayed or out of place on it.

“Yes?”

“What is wrong with this picture?” he asked, surveying the painting on the wall in front of him.

I craned my neck back to take in the entire scene. Men and women were gathered around a table, smiles lit up on each of their faces as they raised glasses full of deep red wine. Each guest was dressed to the nines with regal gowns and ironed suits.

“Nothing…?” I replied, not sure what he thought I might find in the painting. It was the same one that had hung here since before I was born, and he hadn’t mentioned anything wrong with it before now.

“Look at their hair.” His words were low and clipped.

My eyes roamed over the women in the photo before realization hit me as to what he was trying to say. I took a step back, my hands coming together in front of me. “My hair.”

He nodded, not giving me his full attention as his eyes stayed trained on the painting. “Fix it.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I answered quietly before turning around and hurrying back through the doors with my gaze downcast.

My steps were quick, each footfall light on the gray floors as I headed down the hall. I saw the boots a moment too late and landed face-first into a chest.

How many times would this happen to me this week?

I was so used to the castle being empty with no one in the halls, save for the few guards, that I wasn’t being cautious of where I was walking.

My hands shot up to push off the man I’d run into, but I briefly hesitated when our gazes caught.

“Second time this week,” Bowen so helpfully pointed out as I stepped back.

I ran both hands down the front of my dress. “Yes, well, as I said before, the halls are usually empty.”

“Auria,” my father’s voice boomed from behind me, echoing through the hall.

I flinched, quickly averting my eyes back to my feet, but not before noticing Bowen’s brows inch together in skepticism. He didn’t move his gaze from me, and I knew that pissed my father off more than he already was, seeing me speaking to him.

“My apologies,” I whispered before moving to walk around him.

I wasn’t sure if Bowen continued walking once I was out of his way, too afraid of the repercussions to look back and check.

Humiliation ran its way up my spine, only solidifying the fact that I didn’t want to sit through another dinner or paste a smile on my face in front of kings that looked at me like I was more a courtesan than a Tenere.

All the magic I’d been using the past week caught up to me, the emotions I typically kept carefully tucked away threatening to overflow and show themselves.

I inhaled deeply through my nose, then out my mouth as I did when I needed to hide how I felt. It did little to ease my mind, but it worked wonders on the rock lodged in my throat.

I made it to my room and worked my hair into two flawless braids, then looped them to create a makeshift bun at the back of my head. The shorter pieces in the front frayed out, but if I used water, they’d only get frizzier, so I did my best to twirl the strands around my finger to shape them, tugging a few times.

I gave myself a quick once-over in the mirror, running my hands down my bodice. The whites around my green eyes were slightly bloodshot from the strain of my magic the past few days. It was a normal reaction, but nonetheless, I hoped no one at the dinner took notice.

If they did, it’d be easy to excuse it as sleep deprivation, so long as they didn’t look too far into why I might be losing sleep.

Knowing there was nothing I could do besides pinch some pink into my cheeks, I headed back down to the dining room to find everyone was already seated and eating. The food smelled lovely—an array of pigeon, imported chicken, and pork chops laid out on the table among various greens and a few potato dishes. It was a waste of food, given that my father’s guests never ate it all. They didn’t need all these options, especially if trade between the other kingdoms was getting to be as bad as it seemed to be. We depended on the others for specific goods. While Amosite produced various types of magic, we weren’t strong in other areas like farming, lumber, or weaponry. So if Sulphur was cutting our food supply, it’d be wise for us to conserve our stock of it. At least, I’d think so.

I took a seat on the side closest to my father and set my napkin on my lap. Though the food smelled delicious, my stomach was currently sour, giving me no desire to eat. My eyes scanned the room. Aside from Sulphur’s leaders, everyone was in attendance—monarchs from Torbernite, Feldspar and Amosite. And, somewhat to my surprise, Lander was even here, too.

“The food is magnificent,” King Pleum from Feldspar spoke up. He and his wife both wore Feldspar’s color—ivory. They both had long, rich brunet hair, and while King Pleum’s was tied in a neat knot at the base of his skull, Queen Pleum’s cascaded down her back in luscious waves, showcasing her sharp features and natural beauty from the plumpness of her lips to the crisp edge of her cheekbones.

“My chefs are the best in all of Serpentine,” my father bragged. “I pay the spice harvesters a hefty price to get this sort of seasoning. Bland food doesn’t sit well in the stomach, as you know.”

Queen Pleum grinned, though it didn’t seem very sincere, like all this talk of how much was wasted either brought her some sick delight or made her literally nauseous. I assumed the latter.

“Speaking of payment,” King Pleum started, “let’s hope Sulphur brings back their end of our trade agreement with this marriage being boasted about in front of them. Their attitude toward our treaty due to your wealth does not make me feel good about our ability to get meat and crop for much longer.”

My father waved him off, wiping his mouth on the corner of his crimson napkin. “No need to worry, Desmond. Once Auria and Lander visit Sulphur, they will see how well we are all getting along and uphold their end of the deal. Things will be well again in no time.”

King Pleum nodded with a closed-lip grin, like my father’s words failed to settle an ounce of his concern. All the while, Bowen remained eerily silent from where he was seated at the other end of the table, observing the conversation rather than taking part in it.

So that truly was the problem, then? Other kingdoms were breaking their agreements because they didn’t like how wealthy my father was?

“It is rather unfortunate that we were not able to speak with King Alline further. He had to leave shortly after the ball to return with Patreesa. As we all know, she’s expecting their child soon. But rest assured, all will be as it was before soon enough,” my father assured him.

I looked around the table, finding eyes trained on me—ones that’d barely left my face since I arrived.

Paxon’s.

After a silent dinner while everyone ate, King Pleum finally spoke up again. “It is quite impressive, King Tenere, how much you are producing. How many workers do you have down in those mines, if I may ask?”

My palms grew clammy. Did he know about the cellar, about my magic? I couldn’t bear to look up, but out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Bowen’s attention pique at the subject. I might have missed it if I wasn’t so hyper aware of the way he’d been relaxed in his chair the entire dinner.

The mines were closed, but others didn’t know that. It was a cover-up for the use of my powers.

I didn’t dare meet Paxon’s gaze again to save myself from seeing his damn smirk he’d worn during our last meal. I had no doubt he likely held the same expression tonight, given he’d flashed it my way when I joined them.

“Quite a few,” my father said, excusing the question with his vague response. “They’re all very hard workers, doing what is necessary for their kingdom.”

Servants filed into the room, grabbing empty plates and used cutlery to take them back to the kitchen to be washed. They disappeared as fast as they came, leaving the table clear of everything aside from our glasses of fizzing berry wine. I hadn’t taken a single sip of mine, though I ached to. Alcohol would do wonders for me right now, but the last thing I needed tonight was to slip up in front of these monarchs.

With the meal now over, people stood, King Pleum and his wife coming over to talk to King Bular while my father came around the table to find me. I abandoned my chair as well, making sure to push it back in.

“Did you enjoy your meal?” my father asked, though he sounded more annoyed than curious. The question nearly took me off guard.

“It was delicious.” I’d barely touched the plate.

“You may be excused so the men can talk,” he ordered.

Ah, so that’s why he’d pretended to care.

I assumed the queens would soon go to the tea room to have a drink, but I wouldn’t be invited.

I nodded, lowering my chin. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

I was about to turn to head for the doors when Bowen came up beside me and my father, his hands held casually behind his back. “A wonderful meal, King Tenere.”

My father’s jaw twitched as he pasted on a very clearly forced closed-lip smile. “Yes. Like I said, I owe it all to my chefs.”

Bowen looked down at me, and I quickly averted my eyes to the chair as if it was the most interesting piece of furniture in the room. “I wanted to personally congratulate Auria on her engagement. I haven’t had the chance yet.”

I couldn’t help that my focus spun back to him. He’d already congratulated me. Although not in the most pleasant way, he still had.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

“She’s very happy with the arrangement,” my father added, as if Bowen would care if I truly was or not.

“Is she.” It came out more like a statement than a question as he studied my response. “You’ll miss your daughter, though, won’t you?” His attention turned back to my father. “When she’s off with him?”

My father’s teeth ground together, the action evident in the way his jaw flexed. “She will not be living with him.”

A crease formed between my brows as my eyes shot to my father.

How could I not live with my husband ? Though I’d been curious what my father’s plan was for that all along, I hadn’t had the chance to ask him. He likely wouldn’t have given me an answer, even if I had.

Bowen must have had the same thought. “Interesting marriage, then.”

My father was quite a few inches shorter than Bowen, yet he tried his best to look as built and lethal as him. “It is what she wanted,” my father defended, sounding too bold for his statement not being even slightly true.

I wasn’t sure how he could lie so easily about words I hadn’t spoken or arrangements I hadn’t agreed to right in front of me, as if his words simply spoke it into existence and I had no feelings of my own.

“And Auria,” Bowen started, his ice-filled eyes directed at me again, “how do you feel about this marriage?”

If my father wasn’t irate before, he sure was now.

I didn’t have a say in any of it, and Bowen was giving me the opportunity to speak up.

But I couldn’t. Not in front of my father.

I knew what would happen if I did.

I pasted on a small smile, my cheeks straining at the effort. “I’m excited for my trip.”

At least that much was true.

Bowen’s eyes never left mine, and I feared he could see it all written in my own.

“Well, I must excuse my daughter. She has a big day ahead of her tomorrow, prepping for the journey.”

Bowen’s brow cocked ever so slightly, like he was challenging me to go against my father blatantly telling me to leave.

“Yes, right. Thank you for being so kind,” I told Bowen. If he was disappointed in me obeying, he didn’t show it. “I must be heading to bed now. Enjoy your evening.”

Without looking at my father, I headed for the door, feeling the burn of Bowen’s eyes on my back as I exited the room.

There was something going on between the two of them that I didn’t want to be in the middle of. Bowen was baiting my father, and I didn’t like that he was bringing me into the mix. The last thing I needed right now was my father thinking I was encouraging Bowen’s behavior or was even on his side.

With my father’s reaction to Bowen’s appearance in the meeting room the other day, their dislike for each other was clear. I wasn’t sure where it stemmed from, and I shouldn’t be curious. It was none of my business.

But being locked behind these castle walls my entire life, boredom was an all too close friend of mine, and this new tension piqued my interest.

With my departure in a few days, I was sure I’d get no information out of subtle snooping and light eavesdropping, so for now, I’d let it go. Bowen would be gone by the time I was back anyway.

Might as well forget about the issue altogether.