Page 21 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)
With that accomplished, we can finally relax and enjoy dinner.
Something we all look forward to. Tonight, even Helene, Elijah, Alannah, and Eldor join us.
Though I had to send a scribe to pull my grandfather from the archives.
He’s practically been living there, spending every waking moment researching.
“Seriously, the council’s constantly hounding me to show up for meetings. Always wanting to discuss the most mundane things.” Passing the bread to Agnar, I roll my eyes. “Yet they never got around to replacing the palace guards we lost?”
Alannah sighs, wiping her mouth delicately with a napkin. “Oh, those twits.”
I snort, then cover it with a cough. This is the first time I’ve ever heard Sterling’s mother use the word “twits.” And probably the last.
She arrived early to dinner and managed to make a serious dent in the wine before the rest of us got here.
The first bottle, at least.
Several have been opened—and emptied—since.
“Tits.” Agnar sops his plate with a chunk of bread, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. “They’re all tits. Except that one lady, uhh, the one with the perfect hair and stylish dresses. She’s hot. Oh, and the duchess. She’s not too bad either.”
“She said twits, Agnar. Not tits. And that’s Nira and Duchess Breann you’re talking about.” Eldor shakes his head, showing off the gray roots growing through.
Leesa raises her glass high, spilling wine over the side in her enthusiasm. “To Lark, our firebrand queen, getting things done and looking good while doing it.” Her eyes twinkle with pride. Or intoxication. Either way, her cheers are infectious.
I raise my glass. “I’ll take the compliment, but I have no idea what you’re talking about with the ‘looking good’ comment.”
Sterling winks at me from across the table. “I believe it’s because you got our coat of arms confirmed today. The royal guards will be wearing their new tabards shortly.”
“And!” Leesa leans forward and has to catch herself on the edge of the table before she tumbles out of her chair. “For getting women into the guards. Walking around here seeing nothing but male soldiers has just been…weird.”
“Wait. Women? Where?” Helene pops up so quickly that Elijah has to stop her from falling back over.
Those two seem to be getting closer. Or maybe it happened when they were depending on each other for survival back at Flighthaven.
“Not in the guards. No soldiers.” Leesa throws herself back in her chair. “Not until my sister set them straight this week. Now, they’re going to learn what women can really do.”
“There have been no female guards for a long time.” Alannah sips her wine, nodding as Helene wrinkles her nose in disgust.
Elijah merely raises his eyebrows. When I first met him, he was an arrogant ass who wouldn’t have lost any sleep if I’d died. Here, he’s like a different person.
Well, he’s still an ass at times. But his initial hatred of me changed to tolerance at some point since that shit show with Xenon. I like to think we’ve developed a mutual respect for each other.
“That’s a shame.” Bastian wraps a strong arm around my sister, preventing her from toppling over. Surprisingly, he’s not showing any symptoms of overindulgence.
It seems my brother has a high tolerance for alcohol.
There’s a tinge of sibling pride. Followed by worry. How did he get so good at drinking? A hiccup chases away the thought, and I have to shift focus to keep up with the conversation.
“There’re a lot of weird things in this kingdom, but that has to be right up there with the strange furniture.” Elijah, who hasn’t had nearly as much to drink as some of us, twists to the side, gesturing to the low-backed, Tirenese-style chair he’s sitting in. “Do your people never lean back?”
“Not really. Doing so squishes the feathers, then it feels all wrong and you gotta brush ’em out and settle them.
” Agnar sprouts his wings, stretching them out to pat Helene’s head and earning himself a glare.
“But back to female guards. My sister’s made for that.
Lark, if you want, I can ask her to apply.
” He wobbles as he grins, ignoring Helene, who’s still trying to swat his wing away.
Though I have no doubt Quinn would be an excellent guard if she’s anything like her brother, I’m not sure who’d watch little Rose. But I keep my drunken musings to myself.
“Well.” Alannah pushes back from the table. “One thing that doesn’t change is the hours in the day. And I believe I’ve spent enough of them up. I will bid you all a good night.”
“Good night, Alannah. Thank you for joining us.” I start to rise, then remember I’m the queen. If I do, everyone else will have to stand too. Something I’ll have to remedy when I’m among friends.
“For me as well. Ah, to be young and foolish again.” Eldor’s eyes crinkle at the corners with unspoken memories. “I’ve learned not to get that deep into my cups. Especially when I have work to do the next day.”
Alannah nods, her nearly white hair catching the flickering candlelight, and they both rise from their seats.
Eldor offers her his arm, which she accepts.
With one last glance at our rambunctious gathering, they slip away.
I watch as Eldor slows his steps to match hers until a sharp exchange from the hallway snags my attention.
Eldor’s firm hand halts Serle and Celeste in their tracks.
Serle wears the perfect mask of diplomacy, as smooth as the silk draping his shoulders. Even from this distance, I note his shrewd, calculating eyes. “Your Grace, we simply wish to converse with Her Majesty regarding urgent matters.”
“Urgent matters can wait until sunrise.” The dismissive tilt of Alannah’s head suggests she’s heard such excuses before. “Her Majesty has earned her reprieve this evening.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Serle bows his head, though his posture stiffens. Celeste mirrors him like a shadow.
Eldor turns back toward the party and shuts the door, leaving the problems for tomorrow out in the hall.
Tonight, I’m not going to think about politics or enemies. Tomorrow’s worries will come soon enough, but for now, I plan to enjoy the company of the people I care about most.