Chapter Five #3
The Zulenii had not taken that path, and yet, despite all our conjecture that their kingdom was decimated, here were four people who served as proof the Zulen kingdom was still in existence.
Yung gestured to the guitara, as if to ask Old Ceba if he should play more.
I wanted Old Ceba to agree almost as much as I wanted him to decline.
A need to hear more of the music seemed to war with my need to contain my emotions.
Old Ceba shook his head and indicated the table.
Yung handed the guitara back to the historian-in-training and descended the dais, whereby my father asked everyone to go to their seats.
Finnrey and I moved forward, searching the table for our names.
We were on the other side of the table and had to pass the Zuleniis to reach our spots.
I noticed their names on the chairs directly across from the thrones.
We princesses were in the chairs closest to the dais.
Morga, Cameed, and Broga were on the side where Finnrey and I had been, and Finnrey, Riah, and I were on the opposite side.
The rest of those dining filled in spots between the Zulenii and the princesses.
As I moved past Taio, I heard him speaking to his companions.
He was gesturing to the table, and I realized he was telling them where to sit.
It hadn’t occurred to me that they could not read our letters, but clearly Taio could.
Our gazes met again as I passed directly behind him, and he paused what he was saying, and watched me.
I felt my cheeks heat and had the urge to pull my arm back and punch him in the face.
Almost as though he knew what I was thinking, he winked at me.
I gasped. The boldness of this man! Did he think I was some child to be teased?
I was a warrior and a grown woman. I would have grabbed that beaded clothing of his and shoved him against a wall and given him a piece of my mind, except that Finnrey took my arm and pulled me away.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I said. She must not have seen the Zulenii wink. I did not want to mention it.
“You are huffing and puffing as though you have been chasing a group of Hollows.”
“It’s warm in here,” I said. She gave me a look that indicated she didn’t think it overly warm at all. Her gaze slid pointedly to my bare arms, and I straightened my shoulders and ignored her. We stood behind our chairs, waiting for my father to invite us to sit. I purposely did not look at Taio.
The king gave the nod, and we took our seats.
The servants moved forward and poured watered wine in our goblets.
All our wine and ale was weak so we could be ready, at a moment’s notice, to fight the Hollows.
That did not mean no one was ever drunk.
It just meant it took many more cups to achieve that state.
My father raised his glass and said something to honor the Zulenii. At that point I was so focused on ignoring Taio that I barely heard. I drank from my goblet by rote and then pulled back and stared at it. I heard murmurs from everyone around me. “This is not watered,” Finnrey said, eyes wide.
“I’ve never had wine that wasn’t watered,” I replied. I wasn’t sure I liked it. This wine tasted strong and tangy and so much richer than what I was used to.
“I like it,” Riah said, leaning over Finnrey. “Do you think the Court Chef forgot to water it?”
“No,” Finnrey answered. “This is in deference to the Zulenii. But don’t drink too much Riah. It won’t do to be drunk when you meet with the prince or have an aching head tomorrow at the Claiming Rite.”
I thought this good advice and set my goblet back down.
Servants moved forward with trays of food now, setting large bowls of huma on the table along with breads and vegetables to dip in it.
The beans grown to make the huma were harvested within the walls of the village, so we always had plenty of it.
These fresh vegetables were harder to come by.
We often ate preserved or pickled vegetables in stews and soups.
I reached for a carrot stick and bit into it, then glanced at the Zulenii group to see what they thought of the food.
Once again, my gaze met Taio’s. I almost choked on my carrot, and Finnrey had to pound me on the back when I began coughing.
I coughed for several minutes, my face turning red because of the effort and also from embarrassment.
When I could finally breathe, I took a large drink of my wine.
But I’d forgotten how strong it was, and I had to fight not to spit it out.
I swallowed it, the liquid burning my throat as it went down.
I lifted my napkin and dabbed at my watery eyes, catching my mother’s glare across the table.
I glared back. It wasn’t as though I wanted to have a coughing fit in the middle of dinner.
I set my napkin down and decided I should probably avoid both eating and looking at the Zulenii prince.
I peeked at the prince again, and he gave me a concerned look.
I blew out an annoyed breath. The last thing I wanted from him was concern or sympathy.
I especially didn’t want his attention, and I was even more annoyed with myself for being taken off-guard and warranting sympathy. “Excuse me,” I murmured to Finnrey.
She swallowed and grabbed my wrist. “Where are you going?”
“I need some air. I’ll be right back.”
She held on to my wrist. “Your mother will be furious.”
“If she asks, tell her I needed the retiring room.” I yanked my wrist free and walked quickly away from the table.
I took the side door out of the throne room, but instead of turning toward the castle’s entry, I turned left and moved deeper within.
In the flickering torchlight, I spotted a door that led outside.
A little further ahead and I’d reach the throne room’s antechamber.
Lord Ashe’s deputies were probably in there and would quickly shuttle me back to the banquet.
I pushed on the exterior door, having to exert quite a bit of pressure as it opened onto a large balcony overlooking the ocean, and this high on the cliffs, the wind was fierce.
I squeezed through the door and took a gulp of fresh air.
I immediately put my hands on my bare arms. I had forgotten how cold it could be up here, especially at night.
I spotted the guard on the far side of the balcony and lifted a hand to him or her to show I was friendly. But my arm froze halfway up. “Gaz?” I said, my words swallowed by the wind.
“I should have known you’d be the first to try and escape, Mara,” Gaz said, moving forward.
“I wasn’t—” I shook my head, but his face broke into a grin. He was teasing me. I felt like a dusthead for taking him seriously.
“I wish I could escape,” I said, moving forward. “What are you doing here?”
By tacit agreement, we both walked to the edge of the stone balcony.
Even though it was colder at the edge, I needed to look down and see the waves crashing on the rocks below.
That awesome display always made me remember how small my problems were.
Those waves had been crashing on those rocks for centuries before me and they would do so after me.
“Ecdra spotted me in the castle trying to get a better look at the golden blade for the rite and said I needed an assignment.”
“I’m sorry. You could be home resting.”
He shrugged. “I don’t mind. I like it up here and away from all the gossiping people.”
“I would rather be in the outerlands than here right now,” I said.
“I’d rather you were there too. I don’t like this Claiming Rite, especially given it’s hand-to-hand combat.” Gaz reached out and touched my arm. His touch was warm on my freezing skin.
“None of the princesses are in danger of forfeiting their lives, but if the prince loses, we face a choice.”
Gaz raised his brows. He hadn’t taken his hand off my arm yet, and I liked the feel of his warmth on my skin.
“The princess may use the golden dagger you saw to slit his throat. Or allow him to live. If he lives, he will be escorted out of Earsleh.”
“You’ll defeat him,” Gaz said. “And then you’ll kill him.”
I stared at Gaz. Why would he assume I was the one chosen? “He hasn’t chosen the princess he’ll challenge yet. I doubt it will be me. If he’s smart, he’ll choose Riah. She’s the least likely to spill his blood after she defeats him.”
“He won’t choose Riah,” Gaz said, looking away. He removed his hand from my arm, and the skin felt chilled again.
“Why not?” I asked. “She’s as likely as any of us.”
Gaz looked back at me. “If he’s come all the way from Zulen to claim a bride, there’s a reason. He could easily marry one of his own women, but he wants a woman from Earsleh. There must be some advantage he seeks or something we have he wants.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” I said. But I should have. Gaz was correct, of course. He was always thinking strategically. I should have thought about what the prince hoped to gain from a union. “I suppose whatever it is he wants, Riah won’t be helpful.”
“Unless he’s very dull-witted, he’ll see that right away.”
“He’s not,” I said.
“Oh, really? You admire him.” Something about the tone of Gaz’s voice made me look at his face. He wore the same expression as usual, but I could see by the intensity of his eyes, he waited for my answer.
“Admire is too strong,” I said. “I don’t know him. But from what I have seen, he is clever. He speaks our language and has a passing knowledge of our customs. That’s more than I can say for the Zulen language or culture.”
“That makes him more dangerous than I thought. You’ll have to be careful—”
“Gaz, he will not choose me. He’ll probably choose—”
“He’ll choose you,” Gaz said, sounding more certain than I had ever heard him. “Even if it’s not prudent. He won’t be able to resist.”
“I don’t understand why you would think—”
Gaz reached out and caught a piece of my hair whipping about my cheek.
He tucked it behind my ear then allowed his fingers to retreat along the skin of my cheek.
My body suddenly heated in spite of the chill, and my breath caught in my throat.
Everything seemed to be spinning. My gaze met Gaz’s and what I saw in his face made my legs weak.
He was looking at me like he had earlier today.
I could see in his eyes he desired me. I was half-afraid I was dreaming this or imagining things.
“I couldn’t resist you. That’s how I know he will choose you,” Gaz said.
“I tried to tell myself you were like a little sister to me,” he said, stepping closer to me.
“But I don’t feel about you like I do about my sister.
” His arm went around my waist, and I was drawn against his muscular chest, our eyes level.
“Then I told myself you were too good for me—the king’s favorite, a royal princess. ”
“I’m not—”
He put a finger on my lips. “You are too good for me,” he said. “But I want you anyway.”
My gaze slid to his full lips, lips I had imagined kissing so many times.
He moved closer, his mouth just grazing mine.
“I’ve been hoping all day I’d see you again so I could do this.
” He brushed a kiss over my lips. “And this.” His mouth settled on mine, making heat surge through my body.
His lips were soft but strong and he knew what he was about.
His hand slid into my hair, his fingers pressing against the tense points of my neck.
“Mara!” I jumped back and slammed into the high stone balustrade.
My ass was still sore from the training yesterday, and it reminded me of that fact as soon as it made impact.
I winced, then glanced at the door to the balcony and spotted my mother, hand on hips, face in a deep scowl.
“Get inside,” she hissed. “Your father is making introductions. You are missed.”
I hurried across the stone balcony, glancing at Gaz as I passed him. He looked down, perhaps in deference to my mother or because he didn’t want to meet my gaze.
“And you”—my mother pointed at Gaz—“aren’t you supposed to be watching for threats? Do your duty or I’ll report you.”
“Mama!”
“She’s right, Lady Mara,” Gaz said. “I should be on watch. Forgive me, Lady Aine.”
My mother blew out a breath and pulled the door open, gesturing for me to step inside. The sudden silence of the stone corridor made my ears ring, and the warmth prickled my freezing skin.
“Look at you,” my mother muttered. “All my hard work!” She began patting my hair and trying to arrange it.
“I’m sorry—”
“Do not apologize. I’m sure Gaz of Westower did all he could to be certain he was at this banquet.”
“I thought you liked him.”
She scowled. “That remains to be seen.”
I choked out a laugh. “You act as though suitors are lining up for my affections. Gaz is a good man—”
“Shh!” My mother craned her neck, and I heard the king’s booming voice.
“And my youngest eligible daughter is Lady Mara of Highcastle.” My father paused. “Lady Mara?”
My mother released my hair and pushed me. “Go!”