“People will come from all over to witness it. You’ll have to provide shelter…or you can sell the privilege, and the hassle, of providing it. That late in the season only hardy souls will want to sleep on the ground.”
“I knew I admired you.” With a wink, I turned on the ball of my foot and waved. “See? Your talents would be very useful to the crown.” I displayed my crumpled cup. “I think I’ll have another. Spill more state secrets, you know?”
Rya laughed.
While I was making my way toward the cart with the cider barrel, Arya came bouncing over to me, her eyes bright with excitement.
“Seen Lorcan?”
“Not recently.”
“Huh. Still dancing, probably.”
“A hazard of being the guest of honor,” I grinned. “Oh, there he is.”
Lorcan was framed by one side of the open event hall, looking out into the square. My grin faded when Masika approached and took his arm. My stomach sank when he followed without protest.
Arya’s indignant gaze bounced between her brother’s retreating back and me. “You’re not going to intervene?”
“No.”
“She’s not...Why not?” Arya demanded.
“Everyone in this room is watching me, Arya. If I go after them, I look like I don’t trust my own fiancé”—which I don’t, but I’m not saying that to his little sister—“whereas if I don’t, people will think I don’t care what they do. I can’t win, either way. It’s best not to draw attention.”
Her eyes were wide and serious. So similar to her brother’s, it pinched my heart.
“I won’t ruin his birthday party by making a scene,” I added, gently.
“Well, that doesn’t mean I can’t intervene.” Arya’s eyes narrowed with determination. It’s so familiar I wanted to laugh, despite the hollow in my stomach. She’s as fierce as her brother. “Get me a cider, will you?”
I shook my head, chuckling, despite the despair clawing at my heart. A few minutes later I had two cups in hand. Arya was back, dragging Lorcan behind her. He stopped short when he saw me, frowning.
“She wanted to talk. That’s all.”
“It’s not my affair.” Literally. I handed Arya her drink. Then I took Lorcan by the elbow. “I’m not interested in fighting again. Or publicly. You created this situation. You figure out how to handle it.”
Then I released him and slid into the crowd. One of the few advantages of resembling a twig in skirts is being able to thread easily between bodies. More easily than I did in Beijing, back when I still had hips. I made my way out of the stifling hall and back into the night air.
Masika was standing nearby when I popped out of the crowd, talking in low tones with another woman. She glared at me. Seeing her, I stopped short.
I do not have the time, energy, or patience for this shit.
“Lovely evening,” I said brightly, continuing past them. I drained my second cup of cider and tossed the wax paper into a provided bin.
He was so quick I didn’t even hear his footfalls. Lorcan caught my arm, spun me around, and kissed me.
“What are you doing?” I protested.
“Handling a situation.” He smiled against my mouth and didn’t release me.
“Feels more like you’re handling me.” I freed my arms and wound them around his neck.
“There’s my grumpy princess,” Lorcan said affectionately. He bent to kiss my nose. Laughter bubbled out of me. “You don’t have to worry about me, Zosia. All of that is behind me.”
He doesn’t need to be specific—I know he means about the other women.
But I worry that he doesn’t understand how quickly innuendo can progress into rumors. Or appreciate how quickly subtle advances can turn into expectations. The years he spent with me were mostly away from court. I may have hated it, but I was always closely guarded for a reason, even within the castle walls.
