Castien ran a thumb over a rose pin above his wrist. “Attention to detail is worth every minute. You have crumbs on your pants, wrinkles on your shirt. And is that a stain on your collar?”
“What? Where?” The other Escort glanced down at himself. Madeline covered her mouth, her eyes twinkling as her shoulders shook. Castien smirked.
“Castien.” Anais shook her head. “Good morning. Have you eaten? I shouldn’t make the ambassadors wait much longer.” It wasn’t a reprimand, Castien understood when she grimaced, her nose wrinkling as though she smelled something foul. The little crinkles were adorable. “They’re all here, even Nadraken. Prince Balak of Akerami, I expected, but the others… Satryani must have sent messages earlier than she bothered to mention.”
The cup paused at his lips. Nadraken. Sympathy and a question hovered in her eyes. Swallowing another mouthful, he said, “I’m ready now. I’m not hungry.” His stomach had already been tight. Now, the scent of pastries was cloying.
“Are you sure? A few more minutes won’t hurt. Benefits of being the Queen.”
“I’ll stop by the kitchens later.”
“Very well. Thank you, Maddy,” she murmured as Madeline gathered their plates.
Castien handed over his cup with an appreciative nod. The quiet woman never attended the more brutal court gatherings. He hadn’t been certain what to expect, but her absence was a clear sign. They would be on full display, then.
Not a good day to have a headache.
Anais rose to her feet, her dress a shimmering sanguine waterfall. Every other step revealed a jeweled dagger strapped to her thigh. Practical and beautiful. His headache eased slightly. He was hungry, just not for food.
Cool amusement lay in her eyes as she held out her hand. “Consort.”
“Not yet.” He extended his arm.
She settled her claws on his bracer, her eyes on his ring. Satisfaction warmed her gaze.
Madeline lifted a golden crown. The Queen bent her head.
Their eyes met. “Remember, Castien. You are an extension of me. We do not bow to them. Not to a duchess, not to a prince – no one.”
She was radiant. It had nothing to do with the crown. Oh, the shiny piece of gold framed her face beautifully. But it was her confidence combined with her concern that captured him in her intense emerald eyes. The court never saw this Queen. They didn’t deserve her.
Shifting his free arm behind his back, he bent over her claws, his gaze never leaving hers. “Except you.”
Her lips curved. “Except me.”
Let the games begin.
—
“Balak Aecorus, third prince of Akerami, Captain of the Golden Sail. His attendants, Lady Islara Shantri, baroness of the Western Banks; Lord Jornath Hestral, baron of the Inner Coves…”
There were two heralds today, one on each side of the doors. Four more attendants trailed the Aker prince. Bellowing out all those titles must be exhausting.
Sauntering down the aisle was the prince, his long coat swaying with each step. Large gemstones bordered by gold thread were embedded into his shoulders. His fingers and wrists dripped with more gold and sparkling gems. The dazzling display of wealth that was the prince and his entourage bowed.
Castien murmured, “Golden sail, hmm? Doesn't seem very practical for a ship. Gold’s heavy.”
The Queen’s claws trailed up and down his arm without a change in rhythm. He knew she'd heard. Making her respond – that was the fun part.
“Welcome, Prince of Akerami,” the Queen said. “It has been some time since pirates graced my halls. Try not to steal all of my gold, if you don't mind.”
His lips twitched. She had always been better at their games. He'd miss this.
The prince straightened, a broad grin on his lips. “Beautiful Queen of Drantar, I have no need to steal what will soon be mine. With but a single demonstration, you will see why a tournament is superfluous.” He flung his arms out, and his attendants stepped to the sides.
Anais inclined her head slightly.
Coins clinked. At least half the nobles approved of Balak.
