Chapter 42
Ciana fidgeted with the sleeves of her fine gown, staring at the king’s study door.
They’d arrived at the Vathan palace two days ago. Two days since her disastrous first encounter with the young Vathan King, Niktael. But Ciana was not one to be easily deterred by a single bad conversation.
Mariah was relying on her too much for her to let that happen.
She’d spent those past two days doing what she did best: observing. She watched the guards, learning their watch patterns and shift rotations. She watched the citizens who walked the streets outside her windows, watched how they conducted business in the woodland city.
And, of course, she watched the king. It wasn’t difficult; he hardly ever went anywhere alone, always accompanied by a retinue of guards or palace officials. She learned his schedule—when he took his meals, when he had meetings, when he held court in his throne room.
She was particularly interested in the moments when he sought refuge in his private study. He usually entered and exited alone, staying for an hour or two at a time before rejoining palace life.
Which is why she was here now, staring down those heavy mahogany doors.
“Are you sure this is the right time to do this?” She almost jumped at Sebastian’s soft question.
Ciana gave him a half-hearted glare. “Yes. I’m quite sure.”
Sebastian was always there; a quiet, lurking shadow. He usually wore a scowl that didn’t quite fit his face, as if he was unused to that kind of expression but couldn’t keep it hidden.
Whatever. He knew her task and why she was there. He had no right to be an ass about it.
If Ciana could put her feelings aside to help her queen, then so could he.
She shifted her shoulders back, adjusting her corseted bodice.
On their first day, she’d sent a servant down into the city with her measurements and some coin to buy her a wardrobe suitable for palace life.
It was Onitan gold, but it seemed the currency was good anywhere; the servant returned a few hours later laden with fine gowns, all structured bodices and floral lace.
The style in Vatha was similar to that of Onita, except they really did seem to love their flowers.
Swallowing past her sudden surge of nerves, Ciana lifted her fist and rapped lightly against the wood. It echoed far louder than she intended. She gritted her teeth to keep from cringing.
The knock faded to silence. She shifted uncomfortably. Had she gotten it wrong? Had the king decided not to go to his study today? Gods, what if he was in a private meeting and she was intruding once again—
“Come in.”
The male voice was soft, but she heard it through the door. Her mind quieted, even as her palms grew damp. She pressed them against her full skirts, desperately trying to wrangle in her nerves.
She felt Sebastian’s eyes on her as she pushed open the heavy doors, but she didn’t turn back. Not even when they closed behind her with a deep click.
The room, like the rest of the Vathan palace, was warm and richly decorated. Vines crawled up the walls, the thick branch of a tree holding twinkling lights and inlaid with gold and gemstones. A window was open, letting in the sounds of both the forest and the city.
Seated at a massive, cluttered desk, hunched over a towering stack of parchment, was the king. The scratches of his pen filled the near silent room.
Huh. So, he really did just come in here for a chance to get some work done.
Niktael set his pen down and sat back with a sigh. He lifted his gaze to her, his expression lighting up.
It gave Ciana a momentary hope. Maybe she hadn’t fucked up as badly as she’d thought.
“Lady Visseau,” the king said warmly, pushing to his feet.
His clothes were of fine make, yet casual; something he seemed to prefer.
“What a pleasure to see you today.” His brows drew together, concern etching across his handsome face.
“I hope nothing is wrong? Has everything in the palace been to your liking?”
Ciana smiled, putting forth her best show of reassurance. “Oh, yes, Your Majesty. Everything is wonderful. This city and this palace…” She sighed. “They’re quite remarkable.”
“I’m glad you think so.” He relaxed, leaning his hands on his desk. The veins in his forearms flexed under his rolled-up sleeves.
She let herself look. This was her role, wasn’t it? She was supposed to be interested.
It was just a convenience that he made it easy.
“Is there something else, then?” Niktael asked quietly. He was smiling, just the barest tilt to his lips, his warm eyes flashing.
No, not a smile. The king was smirking.
The warmth that crawled into her cheeks was not feigned at all.
“I wanted to apologize,” she started, “for stepping out of line when we first met. I shouldn’t have been so intrusive. I’m sorry.”
Nik straightened, smile blossoming more fully now. He waved a hand in friendly dismissal. “Please, Lady Visseau. There is nothing to forgive. After all, how were you to know? It is I who should apologize to you.”
“That’s not necessary, Your Majesty. This is your kingdom. It’s only fair that you protect it.” Ciana fought the urge to fidget with her lacy sleeves. “And again, please—call me Ciana.”
The king nodded, eyes twinkling as he circled the desk. He halted a few feet from her, hands sliding smoothly into his pockets. “Only if you call me Nik.”
A small smile spread across Ciana’s lips. “Thank you…Nik.”
The king’s eyes shone with approval. Ciana softly cleared her throat, cheeks still burning. “Still, I should’ve known better. You certainly know how to make a lady feel welcomed, and I think I forgot for a moment who I was speaking to.”
“And who was that?” Nik cocked his head, brown waves falling across his forehead. “A gracious gentleman? A handsome tour guide?”
Ciana fought to swallow her snort, turning it instead to a breathy chuckle. Well, he certainly was confident in himself.
But with the way he was watching her, with his tall, lean frame and casual grace, maybe he had a right to be.
“A king,” she answered.
Niktael frowned, but it wasn’t an unhappy look. “Everyone in this palace treats me like a king,” he said. “Always second guessing their words, always putting my needs before their own. As much as your question took me by surprise…it was nice, for once, to have someone treat me like I’m real.”
Ciana’s breath stalled in her chest. She’d come here, expecting a proud and arrogant young king. Someone she could easily trick and trap—someone whom she could use and leave.
Niktael was so genuine. It caught her by surprise. Would she still be able to do this to him?
Did she even really have a choice?
Swallowing all her hesitation, all her sticky guilt, Ciana tipped up her chin. “You seem plenty real to me.”
Niktael’s frown slowly slid up, his handsome features alighting. “It is such a breath of fresh air to hear you say so, Ciana.” He glanced toward the door, lips parted, as if he were hesitating. As if he were deciding what to say next.
He’d already said plenty. Ciana couldn’t bear to torment him more than she needed to.
“I should go—”
“Do you have plans two nights from now?”
Ciana froze, letting out a soft giggle. “Sorry. You first.”
Nik slid a hand from his pocket, rubbing it across his chest. Color blossomed across his cheeks, adding a youthfulness to his features that suited him.
“Apologies,” he said. “I was only curious if you had any dinner plans two nights from now. I will be free—for once—and would greatly enjoy the opportunity to become better acquainted with my Onitan guest.”
“Oh,” Ciana squeaked, surprised. “Yes, of course. I mean, no, I don’t have any plans. Dinner would be lovely.” Her eyes darted to the door. “And forgive me, but…by Onitan guests, do you mean just me, or my Armature companion, as well?”
She wasn’t sure why she asked. It was clear the king meant only her. But when confronted with the reality of a private dinner with the king—no matter how handsome and charming and kind he might be—her first impulse was to have Sebastian there with her.
Which was ridiculous. She needed to be able to do this by herself. She could do this by herself. She swallowed all the sickly things crawling through her and gave the king a soft smile.
As she expected, his expression fell slightly. He held it together, as only a practiced court politician could, but she didn’t miss it. “If you would feel more at ease with the Armature present, then, of course, he is more than welcome,” he said, words already more rigid and forced.
Ciana shook her head, pushing her smile brighter. “That’s not what I meant at all, Nik,” she said. His brows lifted, some light returning to his eyes. “I’m sure there are plenty of things Sebastian would rather do than have a formal dinner with a king. If he’s not required, he won’t want to come.”
The lie burned as it left her mouth, leaving a foul taste behind.
The king clapped his hands softly, taking a small step toward her.
“Excellent,” he said. “Then I’ll have it arranged. I’m already looking forward to it, Ciana.”
“I am, too, Nik.” She beamed at him. Deep down, she felt the thrill of victory. A subtle beat of success that finally she was making progress toward her goal.
But as he escorted her to the door, as he briefly rested his hand on her arm when she said goodbye, as she met Sebastian’s hard, grim stare waiting for her in the hall, she couldn’t ignore the slimy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.