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7

C ora was eager for dinner for more reasons than one. For starters, it would mean the most formal part of her evening was through. Secondly, she was famished. Only now, as she entered the dining hall where aromas of sizzling meats, stews, and fluffy breads infused the air, did she realize she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She’d been too flustered after her kiss with Teryn to take lunch. After the welcoming ceremony, she’d had just enough time to change out of her ceremonial raiment and into a dark blue dinner gown and have her ladies restyle her hair. It now hung over her shoulder in a long braid.

She was grateful that she was the last to arrive—a formality, of course—for it meant the dining hall was loud enough to smother the sounds of her growling stomach. The hall wasn’t particularly rowdy, but there was just enough sound from the harpist in the gallery, the shuffling bodies at the tables, and the occasional whisper to keep the room from being dead silent. It didn’t stop her from blushing as she climbed the dais at the end of the room and took the empty seat at the head table, between Mareleau and Teryn. Her plate was already laden with the table’s ample offerings, eliciting the loudest growl from her stomach yet. She shot a horrified glance at Teryn, but if he heard the sounds roaring out of her, he made no sign of it.

Like her, he’d changed after the ceremony and was now dressed in a dark frock coat over an ivory brocade waistcoat and white silk cravat. She gave him a brief smile but dared not meet his eyes too long, lest she get thoroughly distracted. Dinner may be a less formal affair than the earlier audience she’d held, but she still had duties to perform as queen, and everyone was waiting on her.

Casting a benevolent gaze upon the room at large, she lifted her glass of wine, signaling the start of the meal. The courtiers in attendance raised their glasses, and after the queen took her sip, so did the rest. Relief coursed through her. Now that her guests could begin eating and politely conversing, she and her companions would have some semblance of privacy, for the dais set them apart from the other rows of tables.

Mareleau seemed to have the same train of thought, for she playfully elbowed Cora in the arm. Cora glanced to the side as she took up her fork and met her friend’s smile.

“It’s really nice to see you again,” Mareleau said. Her tone took on a teasing quality. “Your castle isn’t nearly as hideous as it was before.”

Cora let out a lighthearted scoff. “What high praise.”

“You really should have replaced the linens I selected.” Mareleau tapped the tablecloth beneath the violet runner. “Don’t you recall I selected these with Master Arther out of spite when you wouldn’t let me attend the council meeting with you?”

Cora frowned. “What’s wrong with the linens? They look fine to me.”

Mareleau gave her a patronizing look. One that would have gotten under her skin before they were friends. Now she knew it was cajoling. “Cora, dear, the thread count is offensively low.”

Cora rolled her eyes, but the gesture was interrupted by a slight wince from Mareleau. Her hand shot to her belly, a furrow on her brow. Cora opened her mouth to ask if she was all right, but Mareleau gave a subtle shake of her head.

Mareleau leaned in close and whispered, too quiet for anyone else to hear, “I’m fine. I don’t want to make either of them fuss over me.” She angled her head to the side, and Cora looked down the table. Queen Mother Helena was farther down, engaged in conversation with a visiting marquess. Larylis sat on Mareleau’s left, quietly eating his meal. His gaze was so unnaturally fixated on his plate, Cora thought he had to be listening in on their conversation. Then she noticed his attention wasn’t on his plate but his lap. More accurately, on the book there, hidden just beneath the edge of the table.

Cora’s gaze shot back to Mareleau, eyebrows raised in question. Was reading at the table a usual occurrence for the king? In answer to her silent question, Mareleau mumbled, “Always.”

Cora watched her friend for a few beats more, half tempted to extend her senses and ensure she truly was all right. She hadn’t wanted Mareleau to travel all the way here in her condition, but of course, she hadn’t listened. Still, if Mareleau didn’t want people fussing over her, Cora would do her best not to pry.

Instead, she shifted her attention to her plate and brought a bite of almond-crusted lamb to her lips. The meat was so tender, her lashes fluttered shut. It took all her restraint to chew slowly.

A soft touch brushed over the back of her hand. She opened her eyes and found Teryn leaning toward her, his hand propped on the table beside hers, the backs of his fingers caressing the curves of her knuckles, one at a time. It was an oddly sensual touch, and she nearly dropped her fork.

“You’re still coming to me tonight, right?” he whispered.

She swallowed her bite of food, her throat suddenly thick. “I am,” she said, and a shudder of anticipation tore through her. Mother Goddess, how could she calmly finish her meal knowing she was meeting privately with Teryn afterward? She was looking forward to it with equal parts desire and terror. Would she manage to confess everything she’d been yearning to say? Or would he render her speechless before she got the chance?

Lex’s voice cut it on her thoughts. “I’d say I’m surprised, but I’m not.”

Cora tore her attention from Teryn’s probing stare and faced Lex, who sat on the other side of her fiancé. Lily sat on Lex’s right, taking dainty bites of stew.

“About what?” Cora asked before spearing another delectable piece of lamb.

Lex gestured between Cora and Teryn. “About the two of you. It’s well past time, if you ask me. And I’m not just talking about the political alliance. I’m talking about…you know.” He waggled his brows and gave Teryn a significant look.

Teryn pursed his lips, his expression suddenly abashed.

Cora glanced between the two men, trying to puzzle out what she was missing.

Lex’s eyes widened as if Cora and Teryn were daft. “I mean his feelings for you! He’s been smitten with you since last spring. You’ve told her, right?”

Teryn grumbled under his breath, then gave Cora an apologetic look. A strand of silver-white hair fell over his brow, loosened from the leather tie that held the rest back. Cora fought the urge to brush it off his face. “Lex is under the impression that I agreed to rescue unicorns with you because I fancied you.”

She nearly barked a laugh but managed to morph it into a soft chuckle. “Is that how you got him to come along on our exploits?” To Lex, she said, “My friend, I’m sorry to say but you’ve been lied to. His heart was set on a certain bounty, not me.”

She gave Teryn a good-humored scowl. She liked that she could joke about the past without resentment. Where once Teryn’s betrayal had stung her, now she saw every moment, every circumstance—the good and the bad—that had brought them together as something to be grateful for.

Lex stared open-mouthed as understanding dawned. He uttered an extended, “Oooohh.” Then he narrowed his gaze at Teryn. “I don’t know why I didn’t realize that until now. All this time I thought you were a romantic.”

Teryn rubbed his brow. “You weren’t entirely wrong.”

Lex’s expression brightened. “Do say more. Tell me, has this become a love match after all?”

Cora’s gaze whipped to Teryn, her cheeks heating furiously. She didn’t want him to answer, not here, not publicly. This was the topic of conversation she was hoping to save for tonight. His hand rested over hers, his touch firm yet calming. He gave her a subtle nod, as if to say he understood what she was thinking.

Teryn turned back to Lex. “I’ll tell you a secret I’ve yet to share with my fiancée.”

Cora’s breath caught and she wondered if she’d misinterpreted the look he’d given her entirely. Maybe he didn’t understand her at all. Maybe he was about to confess his feelings for all to hear, when Cora wasn’t at all prepared.

“Cora,” Teryn said, “was my first crush.”

Her mind emptied. That wasn’t what she’d expected.

He spoke again. “Princess Aveline Caelan, age six. My first one-sided love. A two-week-long affair, and I daresay she hadn’t a clue I existed the entire time.”

“What are you talking about?” Cora was halfway between a chuckle and a frown. She couldn’t tell if he was making up the story.

He shifted his gaze to hers. “You don’t remember at all, do you?”

“Remember what?”

“You visited Dermaine Palace once with your parents. I followed you around like I was your shadow, but tried to evade your notice when you caught sight of me. Whenever you did notice me, you turned your nose up like I was pure scum for existing in your presence.”

“I can confirm this is true,” Larylis said, leaning forward to speak down the table. “I was quite embarrassed for him.”

Something warm and tender flooded her chest. “I don’t remember that.” It had been so long ago, before the great tragedies that had befallen her—the deaths of her parents, her exile from Ridine. She hadn’t even remembered she’d been to Dermaine before.

“I clearly wasn’t very memorable,” Teryn said.

She realized something else he’d mentioned. That she’d visited with her parents. “So you met my mother and father?”

“I did.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. The fact that the man she loved had met her parents—and that they’d met him—meant more to her than she could have imagined. She couldn’t bring herself to speak for fear that she’d start sobbing then and there.

“That’s a very sweet story,” Princess Lily said in her quiet voice.

Cora shook the tender revelations from her mind and poured her attention on the couple next to Teryn. “What about the two of you? How did you come to marry?”

Lex reached beside him and gripped his wife’s hand. A proud smile spread across his lips. “Lily is my long-time sweetheart.”

Teryn nodded. “I remember you telling me about her during our travels.”

Cora opened her mouth, on the verge of asking why Lex had participated in Mareleau’s Heart’s Hunt if he’d already fancied another woman, but she stopped herself just in time. She couldn’t ask such an impertinent question, no matter how her curiosity burned.

Lex leveled a knowing look at her. “I know what you’re thinking, and, no, I never had any intention of winning her hand,” he said with a significant nod toward Mareleau, who in turn nearly choked on her dinner roll. “I only participated in the Heart’s Hunt because my father threatened to disinherit me if I didn’t at least try . I figured I’d give it my worst effort, come home defeated, and then get permission to marry the woman I actually cared for.”

“Well, he’s a blunt one, isn’t he?” Mareleau said under her breath.

Cora’s eyes darted to Lily to see if she showed any sign of discomfort at being at the same dinner table as the woman her husband had once been forced to court, but she merely grinned as if thoroughly amused.

Lex went on. “My heart has always been for Lily, and I wouldn’t have considered attending that ridiculous Beltane festival if I’d thought I’d had any chance at winning that poetry contest.”

“Your poem was terrible,” Teryn agreed. “ Your hair is the color of light ale. Your skin a milky pallor. ”

Larylis looked up from his hidden book, a distant look on his face. “ You are graceful like a deer and smart like a fox .”

“Ah, yes,” Lex said with a grimace. “My prize-winning poetry.”

Larylis gave Mareleau a crooked grin. “I’d say your words captured my wife’s greatest assets rather accurately.”

Mareleau burned him with a glare but it was betrayed by the smile pulling her lips.

Lex cleared his throat and shrank down slightly. “His Majesty isn’t uncomfortable about…” He lowered his voice and leaned in, ensuring his words wouldn’t carry to the lower tables. “You know…that every man at this end of the table has, in some way, courted your wife?”

Mareleau made an indignant squeak and rounded on Lex. “Does it bother you that I’m the one who deemed your poem the winner of my contest?”

Lex pulled his head back. “I don’t know why, but I feel like I should be offended by that.”

Lily patted his shoulder. “There, there, my love.”

Cora’s chest rumbled with laughter, and Teryn’s mirth was so potent, his eyes were crinkled at the corners. She loved seeing her fiancé so amused, so carefree. This was the most lighthearted royal dinner she’d had since being crowned queen. For the first time since taking the throne, her friends were here. Her beloved was here. There were joys to celebrate, matters to laugh about.

Mother Goddess, she wished it could always be this way.

The darker part of her day—overseeing the prisoner’s interrogation—threatened to dampen her joy, reminding her of the threats that might await, but she wouldn’t give in. Not yet. Not now.

After Teryn sobered from his amusement, he said to Lex, “You never explained why your father was so against your marriage to Lily, other than the fact that she wasn’t a princess. How did you convince him to allow your marriage?”

“Well, you see,” Lex said, “my Lilylove is the niece of a Norunian rebel.”

Mention of Norun made Cora freeze, her glass of wine halfway to her lips.

“Her uncle, Orik Allgrove, is the former King of Haldor,” Lex explained, “and has been stirring unrest against King Isvius for many years now in hopes that he’ll build a rebellion large enough to take back Haldor.”

Cora listened with rapt attention. Isvius was the King of Norun and Prince Helios’ father, while Haldor was one of the kingdoms Norun had conquered several years ago. Lex’s mention of unrest and potential rebellion could prove useful if Norun resorted to war with Khero like she feared.

Lex spoke again. “As you can imagine, Tomas is not keen on getting conquered by Norun, and my father has gone to great lengths to avoid drawing attention to our kingdom. Save for building the wall between our borders, of course, which my father stands by as a brilliant necessity. So he feared pairing me with the niece of a known rebel would attract Isvius’ scorn.”

“What changed his mind?” Teryn asked.

“Aromir wool, of course,” Lex said with a flourish of his hand and an exaggerated mock bow. “I can’t thank you enough for orchestrating Tomas’ inclusion into the trade agreement with Brushwold. When Father learned of it, he was willing to reward me. Hence the only reward I could ever want.” He patted Lily’s hand, who blushed furiously in turn.

Cora hated shattering the lovely mood with her next question, but she had to ask. “Your father’s determination to avoid conflict with Norun must mean he keeps abreast of the kingdom’s latest moves and developments. Are you by chance aware of any troubling rumors regarding Norun? Anything about them potentially targeting another kingdom? Preparing for conquest?”

Lex exchanged a weighted look with Lily. Cora extended her senses, desperate to know what lingered beneath that look, but all she could read was…excitement.

“Let’s just say,” Lex said, a sly smirk turning his lips, “that my rise in esteem and Lily’s influence as princess have sparked…certain developments.”

Her heart quickened. “Like what?”

Another significant look passed between the couple before Lex leaned in closer. His voice was barely above a whisper. “All the Norunian rebels need for a successful rebellion are weapons. The military confiscated all their weapons long ago and forbids all citizens from bearing arms. Yet it just so happens that someone has a wall. A wall from which certain exports leave. And Tomas’ primary export to Norun is manure.”

Cora frowned, unsure what he was getting at.

Lily kept her voice as quiet as her husband’s. “We’re smuggling weapons in shit—” Her hand flew to her mouth, though her lovely face maintained its sweet expression. “Pardon my language, Majesty. In manure . Soldiers don’t bother auditing the manure merchants’ carts. You can imagine why.”

It took Cora several moments to understand the brilliance of what they were doing. And the daring. Lex was spurring a rebellion!

Teryn seemed equally as impressed. “Do you know when it will take place?”

“At the end of the month,” Lex said. “The rebels almost have enough…manure.”

Cora’s heart sparked with excitement. If the rebels succeeded, Cora might not have to worry about the hostility the prisoner had hinted at. At least not from Norun. Syrus, of course, remained a mysterious threat…

Teryn placed his palm on her thigh, beside her hand that was fisted around the folds of her skirt. She didn’t recall having moved her hand there, but she must have in her anxiety and excitement during all the talk about Norun and rebels. Teryn’s fingers smoothed her own until she released the fabric of her skirt. Then he entwined their fingers, a gesture that reminded her they would face this together. They would face whatever came next, side by side.

“Will you keep us apprised of developments?” he asked.

“Of course,” Lex said. “Anything for my allies.”