“She stabbed him,” Juliette said.
We’d met in the breakfast nook off the kitchen, downing coffee and other stimulants over a plate of grilled fish and vegetables. “This crazy bitch stabbed him, and his response was to take away her dinner, but—”
“She wasn't eating anyway,” Numair murmured.
“—that's a concubine’s punishment, not the punishment you dole out to your enemy who's been killing your warriors for decades.”
Had it beenthatlong? I thought back. Yes, yes it had been. I'd killed my first warrior at thirteen?
Fourteen long years of fighting.
I yanked my attention back to the present. “Let's not throwthatword around like confetti.”
“What word? Concubine? What've you been keeping from us?”
I gave her a middle finger.
“You should stay here today, Rinne,” Numair said.
I crossed my arms with a scowl. His overprotective shit again. “Do you want to bet he'dhave me dragged there—in chains?”
Silence. We contemplatedthatbet. No one took it.
“I think we've exhausted the possibilities of this conversation,” Baba said. “It is time to go. We can continue when we have more information.”
I changed into attirethatwouldn't embarrass my House, and we returned to the palace and its forest courtyards. Baba and I took our places at the table and hell resumed freezing over. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been dismissed from the negotiations.
No, the Prince had once again seated me at his right like an unacknowledged consort. I couldn't quite figure out if he wanted to keep a close eye on me, or if I was there to provide comic relief.
Or both.
He’d probably done itto be sadistic, knowing I hated having eyes on me.Eventhough he'd stated his intent to claim me,thatwas still a personal matter between two private citizens. But sitting me at his right wasa complicated political message. I wished I knew what the message was, and to whom.
I tried to relax under the bower of swaying trees as the sunlight reflected off the white stone table, listening to every wordthatdid and did not come out of the mouth of the Prince and the High Lords. I amused myself by trying not to glare daggers at Baroun as we wrangled through the terms of peace for the next one hundred years.
One hundred years. Renauddidn't play. Though I guessed to himthatamount of time wasjustlong enough to take a quiet nap.
One hoped.
Baroun kept giving me his signature slick, malicious smile, as if he knew I wanted to kill him but my hands were tied. Renaud's regent and cousin, though hundreds of years younger, his skin was desert dark and his black hair fell in waves around his shoulders, glinting with reddish highlights. Thick lashes framed amber brown eyes lined in thick kohl. He was as beautiful as Renaud, but combining beautiful and Baroun in the same sentence made me want to vomit. Preferably in his luxurious hair.
He'd been responsible for planning and executing the most devastating strikes against Faronne. And through some quirk of fate, I'd murderedEmbry, a male as close to a noncombatant as possible for any of us of high rank to be.
“Upon further review, the plan Faronne submitted for reparations to Labornne is unacceptable,” Keysia said, voice waspish.
“You already agreed,” I snapped.
“The final document was not yet sealed by the Low Court,” was her cool reply. “And now that the Prince is awake, we remand it to the High Court as is our right.”
Baba gave me a look, and I shut my mouth.
High Lord of Labornne, Lady Keysia’s main goal in life was to climb the ladder of power in Everenne by any means necessary, until her House was important enoughthatMontague might considerthemworthy of an eons long blood feud too. She'd braided her sunset hair into an unnecessarily intricate style, little golden wildflowers in the strands. A gentle wash of freckles brushed her warm skin tone, her green eyes expertly made up and full of disdain. She was everything a Fae Lord should be. Lovely, haughty, delicate, strategic.
If she ever stopped acting like a grubby social climber, her House would actually go places. But her constant begging for power and acknowledgment was embarrassing.
“Let us discuss this,” Baba said, smiling at her. The smile Maman had fallen for. I masked my amusement and listened to my father negotiate.
He never said no. He’djuststart talking and smiling, and soon you didn't know what you'd agreed to. I didn't say much—my rolerequired Ibe Lord Étienne's silent reminderthatif the peace talks didn't go well, Faronne would release the baby kraken.
