Chapter 7 #2
The servant filled his chalice while Leila and Keene shared pleasantries, civil in ways Tobias couldn’t fake.
All he could do was take in Flynn’s razor-edged gaze.
A drum beat in Tobias’s chest, and fire climbed up and down his limbs.
His dinner knife rested mere inches away, and God, was he tempted to launch it across the table and bury it in the man’s gullet.
An onslaught threatened to burst from his mouth, but he gritted his teeth, forcing his hatred inward.
“Now that we’re seated, I think it’s an appropriate time for my son to offer his sincere apologies,” Keene said.
Tobias started. Keene too was staring at Flynn—no, glaring. A fraction of the tension eased from Tobias’s shoulders while Flynn’s eyes panned to the tabletop, his gravitas fading.
“My deepest apologies”—Flynn swallowed hard—“Your Holiness.”
Your Holiness? Heat rose up Tobias’s throat, the fire reignited, shameful and selfish.
“Pardon?” Leila glanced at Tobias, then at Keene. “What is the purpose of this?”
“For his disgraceful performance in Your tournament,” Keene said. “Please know this offense will not be taken lightly. He has brought considerable humiliation to the Joseon name.”
“I’m . . .” Leila’s mouth opened and closed, Her eyes wide with disbelief. “I’m not sure I understand. Flynn was one of the final three competitors—made it to the Culmination, won the tournament in fact, technically speaking.”
“Without a single kill to his name and a meager number of laurelites.” Keene’s lips curled into a frown. “Not to mention his blatant ignorance disregarding Her Holiness while wasting his affections on an impostor.”
“With all due respect, I didn’t know She was The Savior myself,” Tobias said without thinking. “None of us did.”
“Some of us did,” Raphael muttered.
“The Joseon name carries distinction. My son sullied it with his poor choices.” Keene flicked a dismissive wrist at Flynn. “Go on. Tell Her.”
Flynn set his jaw. “As I’ve said, my deepest apologies, Your Holiness.”
Leila’s expression hadn’t lifted. Her eyes flitted back and forth, looking for an answer, perhaps an escape. She cleared Her throat. “Unnecessary. Your performance in the Sovereign’s Tournament was commendable.”
Tobias snatched up his chalice, downing it in three gulps.
This is a good thing. Leila deserves this.
But what of the suffering Flynn brought upon Tobias?
Had the man not threatened him—not attempted to end his life?
Still, the noble stared at the table, not looking Tobias’s way nor uttering another word, and Tobias was once again reminded of his knife, imagining the damage it could do.
Keene clapped his hands twice and Tobias flinched, nearly spilling his drink as the servants rushed to work, delivering overflowing plates of food.
He tore into his rack of lamb, hoping to satiate his hunger, but the meat had lost its flavor, and his belly had become a bottomless pit.
He inhaled another chalice of wine, along with flatbread and olive oil, cheese, marrows, and wine again for good measure.
By the time the figs and nuts arrived, Tobias had given up washing the taste from his mouth.
Some feelings were meant to linger, and they were usually the worst kind.
“I fear we’re burdening you a great deal, requesting your service securing an army.
” Leila scooped the seeds from Her pomegranate, eating with a grace Tobias couldn’t duplicate.
“But, as you know, you breed the finest warhorses in all the realm, and your military network is impressive. The palace has trusted your stables for some time, and certainly I could seek no one else.”
“A discussion for tomorrow,” Keene said with finality. “Your journey has left You tired and weakened Your mind. Enjoy Your dinner and we can make arrangements for Your army in the morn.”
Leila’s smile waned. “Of course.”
Servants delivered coffee and even more wine, and apparently that was Flynn’s cue to leave.
He abandoned the room without so much as a nod, and though Tobias was glad for it, his insides remained tied up like knotted yarn.
Keene sat with Leila, making idle chatter about whatever it was nobles discussed.
She was poised and dignified, a true diplomat, but there was something false about Her carriage, an air of self-restraint so very unlike Her.
Grabbing a full chalice, Tobias strode across the dining hall, making his way to nowhere at all while waiting for the fire in his chest to die.
Something small and blunt plunked the back of his head, then again.
He turned in time for an olive to bounce off the space between his eyebrows and drop to the floor.
Naomi sat in an armchair, a chalice of wine in one hand and a palmful of olives in the other.
He ambled to her side. “You summoned me?”
Beaming, she gestured wildly at her figure. “Behold.”
“Yes?”
“Are you not going to say anything?”
“About what?”
She gasped. “Excuse you, I look delicious!”
Tobias rolled his eyes, and Naomi swatted his arm in response. Delicious wasn’t a word he’d have chosen, but she did look clean, fed, and healthy, and for that he was grateful. Her hair hung in loose shiny waves, free from her usual braids, and her full cheeks carried a hint of color.
“Smell my hair.” She ruffled her locks. “Like peaches. And I swear this is the softest dress I’ve ever worn.”
Tobias chuckled. “I take it you’re coming around to this plan?”
“Working with the man who nearly murdered you?” Naomi scoffed. “Not particularly. And his father—bit of a bastard, don’t you think?”
The man who nearly murdered you. Tobias was there again—in the arena, Flynn’s sword pointed at his throat, wobbling enough to nick his flesh. “At least you can enjoy their way of life for the time being,” he said.
He slugged his sister’s shoulder before walking away, feigning whatever casualness he could muster. Parking himself in front of a window, he pretended to admire the night sky while his mind spun with unspoken demands.
Get me out of here.
Arms wrapped around his waist. “Visit Me tonight.”
Leila. Her touch bled warmth, thawing the icy grasp of his thoughts. “I can’t.” Tobias’s nostrils flared. “You heard the man, it’s indecent. His son can fuck the entire realm, but we can’t even share a chamber.”
“No one needs to know.”
Her hand meandered up the front of his shirt, blazing. He glanced down at his chest, though he didn’t need to. Her palm was planted to his flesh, burning and bright.
She was blessing him.
“See yourself there, and it will be done,” She whispered.
Tobias didn’t fight his grin. “You’re bad.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
She glided from the dining room, holding his gaze over Her shoulder before disappearing.
Flynn didn’t exist any longer, and any stiffness Tobias had felt previously had retreated to places better suited for it.
Wrangling composure, he bid farewell to no one in particular and hurried to his chamber, locking the door behind him.
Leila’s chamber. The room burst into rays of light, and his world shifted. Steel blue walls appeared on either side of him, surrounding a large, welcoming bed with Leila lying in its center, Her dress splayed around Her and a mischievous glint in Her gaze.
“Don’t just stand there. Come here,” She said.
Tobias sprang to life, crawling over the sheets—like clouds, just as he had imagined. He looped an arm around Her waist and kissed Her. “You’re a vision.”
“Because I’m lying in a bed?”
“Because You’re the most beautiful woman alive, and You happen to be lying in a bed.” He propped himself onto his elbow. “And not to flatter myself, but I do believe today was a success. You’ll have Your army in no time, darling.”
She groaned. “We’ll see about that. He wouldn’t even begin the plans today. Did you hear him? ‘Your journey has weakened Your mind.’ What does he know of My mind?”
“He’s a poor judge of character, that’s for certain.”
She frowned. “You’re not upset I praised Flynn, are you?”
“Do I look upset?”
“I felt obligated,” She said. “They’re funding our army.”
“Plus Flynn’s performance was so exceptional.”
“Tobias—”
“I’m joking.”
Leila toyed with the neckline of his tunic. “There’s a mirror next to his bed. You know what it’s for, yes?”
Tobias rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows what it’s for.”
“He is shameless!”
“Back at the palace, he boasted of having bedded fifty women.”
“Fifty? Do you think it’s true?”
Tobias scoffed. “Of course not. Men lie about that sort of thing all the time. Flynn’s had his share of women, I’m sure, but fifty? Please.”
“What about you?” Leila raised an eyebrow. “Do you tell tall tales? Boast of your mighty cock?”
“I don’t care to impress anyone. Let them think what they want.” He rested his head against a pillow—soft, cool, and far too welcoming. “How are You feeling?” He twirled Her hair around his fingers. “About all this, I mean.”
Sighing, she flopped onto the pillows beside him.
“Conflicted. On the one hand, Keene is helping us a great deal and is vital to our cause. On the other, he’s utterly despicable, and I absolutely hate him.
” Tobias laughed, and She shot him a scowl.
“I’m serious! I would never choose to associate with him otherwise.
You know I don’t like Flynn, but now that I’ve met his father .
. . I don’t know. I almost pity him. With such an overbearing man to raise him, it’s no wonder he’s so . . . so Flynn.”
“I’d have to agree.”
“With what?”
“All of it.”
She exhaled. “Well, here we are, forced to rely on them both. I’m happy for the assistance, but it makes me uncomfortable.
I’m certain I’m compromising my integrity in this situation, but I’m not sure how.
Is it because I’m accepting assistance from a man I condemn, or because I’m condemning a man who’s offered his assistance? ”