Chapter Nineteen #2
“I’m not sure why Iademos is giving you a hard time, since I believe he started the tradition. He had a hoofprint on his sternum from Old Molly for over a week.” Raphael’s delivery was dry, but there was humor in his eyes as he needled the general.
More laughter. Not awkward laughter because he was their king and his jokes had to be laughed at, but something sincere, and warm.
“Is there a rule every mare has to be called old?” I asked. “Because if you called my mother Old Val, she probably would’ve kicked you in the chest too.”
Now the table erupted.
“Even if I gave her sugar cubes?” Larissa asked between chortles.
I tried to imagine my mother, the ever-proper lady, eating a sugar cube whole, and giggled. “Even then.”
The conversation moved on from horses to light hazing around recruits to lamenting the work ethic of the latest batch, while Demos reminded them they had the same complaints about every round, and on and on.
Laughter came easily; blood wine flowed in goblets.
Or most. I managed barely a sip of mine, under Raphael’s watch.
It was as odd to see Demos in this friendly environment as Raphael. When I’d come to Damerel, aside from the few balls I’d had to attend, I’d spent little time around vampires. I certainly hadn’t spent time joking with them. That meant I hadn’t gotten to see how they interacted with others.
Yes, they were the leaders in the group, in different ways. But the camaraderie said this wasn’t the first time they’d sat around a table.
“Let’s make the evening more interesting,” said one of the vampiresses—Greta, I thought her name was. She pulled a pouch off her belt and let the contents roll on the table. Bone dice. “Who’s up for a game of Round Toss?”
“Bet you’ve been waiting days to get us into a game,” Lettie quipped, taking a long sip of her drink.
Greta arched a brow, already dealing the dice across the table. “Scared?”
A derisive scoff from Lettie. “Hardly.”
“Do you need me to explain how Round Toss is played?” Larissa asked me, pushing a small pile to me.
“Thea showed me,” I said. Though it had been a few weeks.
Something that sounded distinctly like, Of course she did, came from the general’s direction.
The others pulled silver coins from their sides, and I bit my lip, realizing the situation. No shells for betting here. My chest tightened with embarrassment. Should I bow out? I wanted to play, but asking for handouts…
My anxiety was cut off with a slight press into my thigh: Raphael’s hand grazing my leg.
The sore muscle made me even more aware of his touch.
He had coins cupped in his palm. I reached under the table, hollowing my hand.
He transferred them, closing my hand around the cold metal.
I pulled them onto my lap, running my fingers through them to get a sense of how much I was holding. Fifteen pieces, give or take.
He was carefully not looking at me.
I hadn’t brought any coins of my own. Had basically no money. He could have given it to me in front of everyone, I realized. It would hardly be shocking. But I’d made it clear I was trying to show some form of independence, and this… this must have been his way of recognizing what I wanted.
“Thank you,” I said as softly as I could. And I didn’t just mean for the coins.
He still wasn’t looking at me, sorting his own coins into neat piles of five. But there—the briefest jerk of his chin. Acknowledgment.
Greta, who had provided the bone dice, started the round.
We set our bets—mine as conservative as possible—and began.
The rules came back to me as we went through a few tosses.
Unlike at the gambling hall, where the game had been played seriously, here it was clear the game was just a pretext to taunt each other.
I enjoyed the game. It gave me something to focus on beyond my own anxieties that plagued me at every moment. When I rolled the dice, I wasn’t a necromancer or a vampire or Raphael’s fledgling. I was just another player.
And I wasn’t half bad. My fifteen coins turned to twenty, twenty-five…
“What exactly did Thea teach you?” Demos groused. He was down to two pieces of silver.
“How to win, I suppose.” I tossed the dice for my second throw of the round.
Larissa laughed when threes came up on all sides. Just what I’d needed. I claimed the spoils and passed the dice to Raphael.
“Then she taught you well,” he said, taking them and rolling them in his palm.
Another hour passed. Our table attendees dropped by half, as people left to find their rooms once they’d lost their coins, or interest.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Larissa murmured. “I mean, there’s luck, and then there’s this.”
I’d thrown precisely what I needed again—a one, two, four. “It’s only my second time playing. Beginner’s luck, perhaps.”
“It must be Lixa’s luck herself,” Demos groused.
He’d folded, but stayed seated with us, bantering back and forth.
His shoulders had lost a slight amount of stiffness, which was a win for our frosty relationship at the moment.
Though he was probably staying here to ensure I didn’t poison Raphael again.
My surprise must have shown on my face because the general frowned at me. “What?”
“I’m surprised you’re invoking a witch goddess, that’s all.”