At his sides, Leighton’s fists wound so tightly, she thought for sure his fingers might snap.
“The Ashen are not people,” he said, voice shaking. “They are tainted, undead things that only bring death upon the realm.”
Kestrel flinched at his ominous tone, releasing him immediately and staggering back.
Leighton blinked the rage away, but one look at Kestrel and he didn’t even attempt to try to assuage her fear. Instead, he donned his regal mask again, and adjusted his tunic, standing taller. “But I’m sure you’ll learn more about them with Barnabus soon enough. Rest well, Princess Kestrel. And good luck with the start of your studies tomorrow.”
Chapter 21
An Awkward Dinner
ELORA
The candles on the table were beginning to drip. The steam that had been rising from the braised pot roast and stewed vegetables had already subsided. But Elora and Signe still sat, their plates empty as they waited for Prince Leighton to join them.
Neither of them were fools. They knew that it was taking him far longer than it should’ve.
Elora was just beginning to think the queen might call off the meal, when Leighton finally entered the room.
“Sorry I’m late. I forgot how many questions my brother has whenever he’s instructed to start a new endeavor.”
The queen’s ire lifted ever so slightly at the mention of the plans she had set in motion. “But you spoke with him, yes? He understands his charge?”
“Yes, he’ll begin with Princess Kestrel tomorrow. I arranged for her handmaiden to deliver her to him once she awakens for the day.”
“Wonderful,” said the queen, and she summoned over the servants without a hint of impatience left behind.
Leighton took a seat at the end of the long table, across fromQueen Signe, while Elora sat somewhere near the middle. Three servants moved about them, grabbing their plates and ladling stew and meat and bread upon them. Elora didn’t like eating meat. Like many of the people of Grimtol, she had been raised not to, considering the possibility that one could accidentally eat an animal that wasn’tjustan animal. But the people of Irongate didn’t seem to care. And the creature on her plate was already slain. Since her only goal right now was to appease the two people in this room, Elora made no mention of the roast the servant served her with, and she began delicately poking at it.
The three of them ate in silence.
Elora couldn’t think of a time when she felt more alone while she was in someone’s company. She wondered if this would be what their marriage would look like: two strangers in a room together, barely acknowledging each other’s presence. It sounded miserable. But also better than some of the alternatives, she supposed. She had heard horror stories about women being sent to distant lands, forced to wed men who were double—sometimes triple their age. Expected to perform certain sexual activities commonly shared between those who are married. Forced to bear heirs. It all sounded utterly barbaric to her, especially since the Ashen never shared any of these customs. They believed that the unionizing of two people occurred out of love.
But that wasn’t the marriage Elora was preparing for, she knew that.
Did that mean it had to be one of misery though if it wasn’t?
After a servant finished cutting up the meat on the queen’s plate, they stepped back behind her into the shadows. Queen Signe speared a piece of slightly pink flesh onto her fork and let it hover before her thin lips.
“Well, now that you’re here, we have much to discuss. Your wedding day. Your coronation?—”
“My father’s life celebration and burial?” Prince Leighton interjected, shoving a spoonful of roasted potatoes into his mouth. He stared across the table at Signe the entire time he chewed. Testing her. Daring her to tell him no.
Queen Signe seemed to pay him no mind though. Elora knew her strategic mind well enough to know that the queen had likely expected this from him, so she was unfazed. She finished her prepared bite before dabbing her mouth with a napkin.
“Of course. I have servants tending to him already, preparing his body for the display and public mourning period.”
“Good. I would like to check on their work tomorrow then, after I’ve had some rest.”
Elora was no stranger to death. She knew the many ways it made the heart ache, made the bones weary. Most of all, she knew how alone it could make someone feel.
Perhaps she and Leighton didn’t need to fall in love, but she could still show him the kind of supportive wife she could be. Perhaps they could forge a friendship throughout all of this.
“I could join you, if you’d like,” she offered.
Leighton’s hand clenched his knife so tightly that Elora flinched. He kept his head down, the temper in his voice barely contained. “That won’t be necessary. Preparing his body is a sacred thing and should only involve those closest to him.”
“Leighton!” the queen chastised.
