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Chapter Eighteen
MER
Duke Keventin was a snake.
The man spoke like he was the deciding authority on every subject, but beneath the arrogance was cunning. And that was dangerous.
Mer spooned a little bit of savory pureed soup into her mouth and took a sip, hiding her wince at the pumpkin flavor. She’d hoped it would be carrot instead. There was something about the mushy orange gourd that rubbed her the wrong way. Was it supposed to be sweet or savory?
She forced herself to swallow the soup and set her spoon down gently while tuning out the conversation around her.
Twenty-five people sat at the long rectangular table that ran down the middle of an opulent room.
Mer blinked at the gold candelabra sitting on the table, so shiny her reflection glared back at her.
She leaned to her left to see around the monstrosity at the young woman who sat across the table from her—Keventin’s daughter.
Her olive skin shone in the light and her sleek black hair curled gently around her round rosy cheeks.
She never looked up from her plate but continuously fiddled with her spoon and stared into her soup like it held the answers to the world.
Mer cocked her head, studying the girl’s bone structure.
Scythian.
What was the duke doing with a Scythian daughter?
Scythia had its borders open for the first time in five hundred years, and the girl looked to be all of thirteen or fourteen?
That was well before the Warlord’s War. Had Keventin married a Scythian refugee?
It was clear the girl’s mother had to be of that origin.
Just how did the duke procure a Scythian wife?
Mer sighed. Too many questions and not enough answers.
She gave up trying to catch the young woman’s eye. How did humans have conversations with each other when the table decorations kept one from even seeing their dining partners? It was unreasonable, to say the least.
Picking up her crystal goblet, she slanted a glance at the king to her left. King Raziel sat at the head of the table, looking at ease, as if this were his own home.
Mer took a deep sip of her wine and relaxed slightly. At least humans knew how to brew their spirits.
“No love for pumpkin?” the pretty man at her right asked.
Mer turned to him—Gideon, she’d heard him called. “It’s vile,” she confessed.
Mirth made his lips twitch. “It’s not my favorite either. No gourds beneath the sea?”
“No. At least, not sweet ones.”
They fell silent as servants entered the room and quietly took their bowls.
Good riddance to the pumpkin soup.
Mer sipped her wine, observing the staff over the rim of her glass.
While they were all dressed in finery, it was the gauntness of their faces and the emptiness in their eyes that made her skin crawl.
These weren’t happy workers. She narrowed her gaze at Duke Keventin as he gestured lazily and smiled a little too broadly while regaling his story.
This man didn’t take care of his serving people.
That made her dislike him even more.
The duke caught her attention, and her stomach dropped when he sent her a rakish grin, licking the edge of his glass before hiding the gesture. Mer fought not to react. The indecent man was propositioning her while the king sat between them.
While she loathed Raziel, the pompous lord did not know that.
“What do you think, my queen?” Keventin asked with an oily smile.
“Of what, my lord?” she drawled, swirling the wine in her glass. A chill ran down her spine at the way he said my queen . It was possessive.
Duke Keventin pushed back his thick black-and-silver hair from his square jaw and then set his glass on the table before lacing his fingers together.
Jeweled rings glowed in the candlelight.
She’d already known the duke was rich, but each finger had two or three gemmed rings.
Mer had seen the king each morning for the past week, and he’d never worn that many jewels.
Was the duke trying to intimidate Raziel with his wealth?
What an interesting turn of events.
“Of your husband’s new policies.”
Gideon stiffened at her side.
Mer knew nothing of the changes Raziel was making in the kingdom. She smiled at the duke and feigned confidence she didn’t have. “He is a very loyal and noble king,” she answered truthfully. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Keventin’s metallic gaze glinted. “Of course, my queen.”
“Then any new policy he’s put in place would be to better our kingdom, no?”
Gideon slightly relaxed at her reply.
“Yes, I believe our dear king has our people’s best interests at heart.” There was a but coming. “Change takes time, don’t you agree?”
Mer smiled. The duke was trying to back her into a corner.
Just what was he after? She glanced at the king.
He looked completely cool and calm—except for the fingers of his hand curling into a fist in his lap.
Mer flicked her eyes back up to her husband’s face.
Whatever was going on was important. Whatever she said was important.
There was more to this banquet than the dowager queen had let on.
It would be so easy to fall into Keventin’s trap. It was clear he was angling to humiliate the king. Part of Mer wanted to do it, but that wouldn’t endear her to him. She needed to get close to him so that she could tear out his heart.
“It can take time, but it moves faster when allies work together. You’re an ally to my king, are you not?” Mer sipped her wine again, feeling all the gazes around the table on them.
“I am, my queen. The changes that are coming will burden some of your dear gentry to the point of beggars. Not all are as loyal as I am.”
She stifled her snort.
Keventin was as loyal as a sea serpent and twice as venomous.
Mer took her time setting her crystal goblet on the table and lacing her fingers together to mirror his position.
She purposefully scanned the room, her gaze touching each gaudy display of wealth, until she landed on the jewels that decorated his fingers.
Much to her satisfaction, the skin around his eyes had tightened.
One point to Mer.
“If all highborn lords are as wealthy as you, surely it won’t weigh too heavily on your province.” She nodded to one of the thin waiters hovering near the wall. “A little equalizing wouldn’t be too much hardship.”
Duke Keventin laughed. “Whatever do you mean, my queen? Are my staff not up to your liking? Does the sea kingdom have such excellent staff that it leaves something to be desired among us land dwellers?”
One point to the duke for making her seem like a spoiled Sirenidae.
“No, my lord,” she said, batting her lashes, her smile turning a bit more predatory.
“I have found so much to love and admire about Methi. It already feels like home.” A lie.
“What I was referring to was the state of your servants. They are positively wasting away. I’ve never seen such a thin group of workers in my life.
” Mer’s smile froze as the king reached underneath the table and squeezed her left thigh.
A warning that she was about to ignore. She giggled and played with the stem of her wineglass.
“Surely such a lofty lord as yourself could afford to fatten your people up a bit. It’s a travesty just looking upon them. ”
Another point to Mer.
Duke Keventin’s lips pressed together momentarily before a forced laugh exploded out of him.
The table joined in, and he sat back in his chair, his calculating eyes never leaving her face.
“What a generous creature you are to care for those who are so far beneath your notice.” He grabbed his goblet and held it up.
The table followed suit, toasting her. “How lucky are we to have gained a magnanimous queen.”
A creature, not a woman.
A chorus of, “Hear, hear!”
Mer’s attention never left Keventin’s as he drank deeply from his glass.
She had a feeling she’d just made an enemy.
The servant’s door swung open, breaking the moment, and waiters filed in. The scent of roasted meat, savory roots, and buttery bread filled the air. Mer sat back in her chair, avoiding the king’s gaze. She brushed his hand off of her thigh as a servant placed the next course in front of her.
Mer glanced at the waiter, thanks upon her lips, and froze as she locked gazes with another pair of magenta eyes.
A Sirenidae.
She blinked at the young servant, who dropped her gaze immediately and stepped back, moving to Raziel. She felt Keventin’s gaze before she looked at him. He smiled in a way that made her skin crawl. He had a Sirenidae in his employ, and he’d sprung her on Mer to get a reaction.
Duke Keventin gestured to the Sirenidae servant. “A pleasant surprise, no? You’re not related are you?”
Indignation had her sitting up in her seat. The insinuation that someone was related just because they were of the same race was disgusting.
“As much as I would like to claim her, unfortunately no,” she gritted out.
The duke took a heavy swig of his brew, and swung his hand out, not seeing the Sirenidae servant stepping forward to place his plate before him. The duke knocked the plate out of the servant’s hands and into his daughter’s lap. She squeaked, a whole plate of hot food splattered on her dress.
The duke pushed from his seat and backhanded the Sirenidae, knocking her to the ground. Mer gasped at the brutality of the action, finding herself on her feet as Keventin kicked the servant twice for good measure.
All eyes turned to her as she glared at the duke’s back.
King Raziel had reached out and caught her skirts in his hand, discreetly tugging so she’d sit. Righteous anger filled her for the poor servant on the ground. The duke had been the one to cause the accident, not the waiter.
All she wanted to do was vault over the table and beat the horrible lord with one of his shiny candelabras.
Keventin spun around with a bright smile and smoothed his hair back from his face. He blinked slowly at Mer. “My queen, is everything alright?”
No, it was not. Mer was about to show him how much of a creature she could be.
Mer looked at the king, who was as blank as a white canvas as he stared up at her. The only thing that gave him away was the fist he’d buried in her skirt to keep her in place. What a joke. Little did he know she’d destroy the dress in seconds to get to the Sirenidae servant.
Be smart.
“My king,” Mer murmured. “I must take my leave so I may help Duke Keventin’s daughter. Please excuse us while we freshen up.” She caressed his bicep, ignoring the tension that filled her king at her touch.
She kept her eyes from the servants, who helped the younger girl from the floor and dragged her from the room.
Keventin’s smile grew sharp. “You mean my wife.”
Mer froze, her gaze resting on the Duchess Keventin before she pasted a pleasant smile on her face. “As you say.”
The rest of the men and women rose from the table. The king released her dress and stood as well. She flinched as he dropped a quick kiss on her cheek.
“See you soon.”
A promise or a threat? She couldn’t contemplate either.
Mer woodenly walked out of the room, followed by an entourage of ladies and one rumpled-looking Lady Keventin.
Who was only a bloody child.
It looked like Raziel wasn’t the only one who needed to pay for his sins.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
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- Page 4
- Page 5
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- Page 9
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- Page 13
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- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21 (Reading here)
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
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- Page 39
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- Page 42