Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
M y victory was short-lived, since Rowan went so far as to physically scoot her chair closer to Korhonan in what I’m sure she thought was a subtle way.
It was irritating until she nearly bumped into the servant trying to place the first course in front of her. Then it became amusing. Rowan’s cheeks flushed as she awkwardly cleared her throat before sliding her silverware closer to her plate.
At least she appeared interested in her meal for a change. She didn’t hesitate before slicing into the crispy chicken leg before adding a heaping scoop of roasted potatoes onto the fork and shoving both into her mouth.
She let out a small, satisfied groan before repeating the action more slowly this time.
I swallowed hard, trying to focus on my meal instead of the noises she was making as she ate, and was more than a little relieved when Prince Oliver spoke up.
“Finn and Isla should be here tomorrow,” he announced once the room had quieted down some—although I wasn’t sure this room was ever really what one would call quiet .
Several heads snapped toward him, grins plastered to their faces. I remembered the names from the stories Rowan had told me back in Bear. Finn was her mother’s brother, and Isla was his wife.
“And the twins?” Davin asked after taking a large sip from his glass of wine.
One of the adolescent redheads cleared her throat—the slightly more reserved one, who had not thrown the roll—and Davin pursed his lips, shaking his head in a placating manner.
“I meant, the much older, much more boring twins, of course,” he assured her.
The girl nodded, a single, regal dip of her chin.
Princess Avani laughed at that, and a beat of silence fell at the table before the conversation picked back up again. The heir to the throne picked up her fork, spearing a piece of roasted potato like she didn’t notice the scrutiny.
She didn’t actually put it in her mouth, though.
In fact, of the small amount of food she had put on her plate, she didn’t appear to have touched any of it. I might have thought no one noticed, with the boisterous activity around us, but nearly every eye in the room had flicked to Avani’s full plate at least once.
King Logan’s emerald gaze lingered there most often, and I wondered whether his grim mood was from more than the Socairans vying for his daughter’s hand. For that matter, I wondered about his coming to Socair himself, rather than sending a trusted guard.
It was clear he was a devoted father. Even now, he bounced the youngest child on his knee, feeding her small bites of food from his own plate.
But I thought of Rowan telling me how she had left to escape the cloud of grief that had permeated the castle, and I couldn’t help but suspect that apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree.
“Yes, and Gwyn and Gal,” the prince confirmed, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Gwyn, the one who’s so good with the sword?” Korhonan offered in a tone only slightly less obsequious than when he had fallen all over himself about Rowan’s council room appearance.
“Right,” Rowan answered, like she was praising a particularly smart puppy.
I took an aggressive bite of my roll just in time for one of the twins to speak up again.
“Does this mean you have two pieces of man-meat now, Row?” So much for that one being the more demure twin.
Though I had told myself I was prepared for anything at this table, I choked on a laugh—and the bread I had just put in my mouth.
Were they truly always this way? I stole a glance at the queen—the Warrior Queen, if the legends were true.
You are no match for anyone in my family, least of all my mother. My lemmikki had spat those words to every duke in Socair in one of her decidedly less charming moments. So for all of Queen Charlotte’s polite smiles, she must be hiding a hell of a lot of chaos to produce the offspring sitting at this table.
To say nothing of the king.
He squeezed his eyes shut, looking from his daughter to his nephew.
“Dav,” he sighed.
“That’s exactly what it means,” Davin said with a sage nod, like the king had been calling on him to supply an answer rather than rebuking him.
King Logan shot him an annoyed look, opening his mouth to speak when an excited, high-pitched voice cut him off.
“Ma-meet!” the child on his lap squealed, the only princess without green eyes.
A booming laugh rang out from Prince Oliver, followed by a slapping sound as Jocelyn’s hand connected with the back of Davin’s head.
I thought idly that the Besklanovvy comparison had been too tame.
“Apologies,” Davin said half-heartedly while his mother muttered something about censoring himself in front of the children or being banned from family dinners.
“Come on, Mamá. Man-meat isn’t bad. It’s not like I taught Ellie to say arseling.”
The child, Ellie, clapped her hands merrily. “Ar-slee!”
Far, far too tame.
The king’s cheeks reddened with irritation. “For the love o’ the stars, Dav, one more and we’ll take it out in the ring. And we’ll go before Gwynnie is here to protect ye.”
Davin mimed clamping his lips shut, and Princess Avani reached for Ellie.
“Honestly, Dav,” she said with a tutting sound, but there was something just a bit false to it. Then the edges of her lips tilted up as she looked at her youngest sister. “Don’t be such an eejit .”
“Ee-jee!” the tiny voice echoed.
Next to me, Rowan went still, and she wasn’t the only one.
Avani looked at her father with the slightest bit of a challenge, just the barest raising of her eyebrows, waiting to see what he would say to her.
King Logan cleared his throat, his expression mirroring Avani’s.
“The way ye’ve been slouching, mo leannan , I could take ye both at the same time.”
Avani huffed out something close to a laugh, and conversation picked up once more in a low hum.
When dessert was served, I reluctantly chose one of the smaller, less offensive looking options. It was one of the few choices that wasn’t drizzled in some sort of syrup or covered in shaved chocolate, so there was hope it wouldn’t be sickeningly sweet.
Meanwhile, Rowan piled two glistening, fruit covered tarts on her plate, her entire body practically vibrating with excitement as she speared a giant strawberry with her fork.
Queen Charlotte furrowed her brow, tracking the motion with a thoughtful look. Having watched the tiny princess shovel in more food than should be possible on a number of occasions, it wasn’t surprising that she was doing so now.
Except, that it apparently was. Again, I noticed she was thinner than she used to be. Paler.
She glanced up at me like she felt my gaze. For the first time since I arrived, there was no ire in her stare, only a distracted sort of curiosity. She raised her eyebrows as if to ask what I wanted, the silent communication that had always been strangely second nature for a woman who had no problem finding her voice.
Before I could respond, she seemed to remember how much she hated me, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes while she turned her attention back to her left.
Gritting my teeth, I forced a small bite past my lips and immediately wanted to spit it back out again. A regrettable combination of flavors and textures coated my tongue, and I wondered why anyone would ever choose to eat this. It was cloyingly sweet, and somehow both sticky and chalky.
I forced myself to swallow one bite after the next before washing it all down with what was left in my wine glass.
When the queen inquired about my opinion of the tart, I was more than grateful when she was distracted by one of her younger daughters. Bronwyn whispered something in her mother’s ear that had Queen Charlotte blanching while her twin walked over to our side of the table and plopped their youngest sibling into Rowan’s lap.
Princess Ellie wrapped her chubby fingers around one of Rowan’s untamed curls. She grinned up at her sister, babbling nonsense that Rowan pretended to understand.
I started to wonder when the last time I had seen a child this close was, but the thought cut off abruptly. Amber eyes met mine, and the echo of screams and the scent of charred flesh seemed farther away than they normally did.
Warmth seemed to emanate from the youngest princess, enough that I found it hard to scowl even as Rowan taught her to say Korhonan’s shortened name. At least, until he responded.
“You’re really good with her. You’ll make a wonderful mother.”
Rowan visibly blanched, and I couldn’t help the scoff that escaped me. Had he been paying any attention at all? Did he honestly think she would go from smuggling vodka and sparring relentlessly to hiding away at Elk Estate to mother his children?
But then, Korhonan had always been an idiot.
She stiffened, but Ellie laughed, reaching over to grab a tiny fistful of my hair.
“Ellie, can you say, aalio ?” Rowan cooed, not taking her eyes off the child.
“Ah-lo,” Ellie repeated dutifully, her smile widening.
I couldn’t help but smile back, in spite of myself, in spite of all the memories that fought to break free. I worked to gently break her surprisingly firm hold, while laughter erupted around the table.
“Aw, look. She knows your name.” Rowan looked up at me, wearing half a smirk that promptly died on her lips. Her eyes went wide with something I couldn’t read, the guard dropping from her expression for the first time since I could remember.
Then she swallowed, looking away. Looking back toward Korhonan, which I had no desire to tolerate any more of.
“Ellie,” I addressed the child, who appeared to be delighted that I was speaking. “Can you say Lemmikki ?” I asked her, looking at the pursed lips of the princess next to me.
“Wem-kee!” Ellie responded.
“Look,” I told Rowan. “She knows yours as well.”
My lemmikki did not look amused. But neither did she look back at Korhonan.
So it was another victory, all things considered.