2. Taste #2
Elyria snorted, the sound landing somewhere between a scoff and a laugh.
“No,” she said, shaking her head as though it was the most ludicrous notion she’d ever heard.
“No, I have not heard from my father, nor would I entertain whatever it was he had to say to me, even if I had. And shockingly, no, Kerrigan wasn’t the problem either. I went to apologize to him, actually.”
Kit waited, her grasp on her goblet tightening.
Fingers drumming against the arm of the chair, Elyria finally admitted, “I lost control yesterday.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just—” Elyria took a long pause, seeming to consider her words carefully, and it was all Kit could do not to leap up from the chaise and demand the unfiltered truth. But she knew that could only backfire. This was hardly her first time dealing with a cagey Elyria Lightbreaker, after all.
“It doesn’t matter,” Elyria finally said, the words cutting through the space between them like a knife.
Kit’s shoulders sagged. “There was just a . . . moment. While Kerrigan and I were sparring. It got a bit too intense. I goaded him, to be fair. But the fucking flamecaller just had to show off. And then I got pissed when he burned me, and the next thing I knew—” She broke off, exhaling sharply.
“It all ended fine. Evander stopped me before I did something I couldn’t take back. ”
Kit let the words hang between them for a moment. She knew she still wasn’t getting the whole truth, but something in Elyria’s countenance told her now wasn’t the time to push. “Well, that’s Ev for you. Handy to have around in a pinch.” She offered Elyria the goblet of wine.
“Yes, I think I might just keep him.” Elyria smirked, but Kit didn’t miss the slight tremor in her fingers as she took the cup back. Whatever happened out there had shaken Kit’s fierce friend, and that was a terrifying thought.
“After nearly a century together, I would hope so. Though stars forbid the two of you ever make it official.”
There was a muffled snorting sort of sound that made Kit wonder if Elyria was choking on the sip of wine she’d just taken.
“I have to say, your taste in stolen wine truly is excellent,” Elyria said after a moment.
Kit had to admire the smooth change of subject. “Yes, well, only the best for the duchess, of course. Thus, only the best for her disappointing daughter.”
It was Elyria’s turn to roll her eyes. “You are not disappointing.”
Kit placed a hand over her heart in a show of mock offense. “I’ll have you know I am the gold standard of a noblewoman’s disgrace. And I work very hard at maintaining that reputation.”
Elyria raised the goblet in toast. “A worthy ambition.”
The chamber doors swung open. A frazzled-looking attendant scurried inside, barely sparing a glance at their reclined postures or the half-empty goblet dangling from Elyria’s fingers.
“My lady,” the attendant said breathlessly to Kit, dipping into a hurried curtsy, “your presence has been requested in the west solar. Immediately.”
Kit groaned, letting her head fall back against the chaise. “Of course it has. She must have sensed I was actually enjoying myself for once.”
Elyria snickered. “Mothers have an uncanny ability to do that, I hear.”
“I hadn’t even realized she’d returned.” Kit sighed.
“Any idea what it’s about?” Elyria asked.
Kit cocked her head. “Jianna, right?” The attendant nodded. “Tell me, Jianna, for what reason does my dear mother demand my presence?”
Jianna hesitated, nervously tucking a stray lock of lilac hair behind her ear. “Ah, but it wasn’t”—she looked from Elyria to Kit and back again—“actually Her Grace who bade me summon you.”
“Oh?” Kit and Elyria said at the same time.
“It was Lord Evander.”
Kit’s stomach lurched, though she schooled her expression into one of lazy disinterest, propping an elbow on the arm of the chaise.
“Is that so? And what has my perfect brother gotten into now?” She looked to the attendant, whose lips pressed together, perhaps debating whether she was permitted to say more.
“Actually, I’m not sure I want to know.”
“Well, I do.” Elyria sat up straighter. “You can’t just throw Ev’s name out there and give us nothing.”
Jianna hesitated for only a moment. “I do not know for certain. But both Her Grace and His Lordship have returned from meeting with the king. Lord Evander’s valet suggested to me he sought the king’s permission for something.”
“His Majesty’s permission, was it?” Kit offered Elyria a conspiratorial wink. “Or perhaps . . . his blessing?”
Elyria shook her head, exasperation scrawled across her features, but she said nothing.
“And this evening, the entire estate is to gather for an announcement of some kind,” Jianna finished.
Kit and Elyria exchanged a glance. “The insufferable bastard does love his dramatics, doesn’t he?”
Elyria hummed, swirling the goblet of wine in what might have looked like a relaxed gesture to anyone else.
But Kit didn’t miss the way Elyria’s fingers had tightened around the stem.
Didn’t miss the minute flare of her nostrils, the widening of her eyes as scenario after scenario ran through that beautiful mind of hers.
“If I were to guess, I would say he’s either orchestrating some grand gesture aimed at a certain Revenant”—Kit looked pointedly at Elyria’s ring-free fingers—“or there are cultists on our doorstep and war’s on the horizon. Either way, I fear I’m about to get some very concerning news.”
Elyria scoffed, the barest hint of a flush coloring her porcelain cheeks.
“And you say he’s the dramatic one. Well, you certainly won’t find out by sitting around here with me, will you?
” She waved her free hand lackadaisically in the air.
“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that patience is not a Ravenswing family trait. ”
With another groan, Kit threw an arm over her face. “If I don’t return, tell them I died as I lived—shirking my responsibilities.”
Elyria grinned, the tension in her face easing. “I’ll ensure the bards get every detail correct.”
Getting to her feet, Kit brushed out the folds of her tunic, unsuccessfully attempting to smooth the wrinkles in the fabric. “Are you coming, or should I tell Evander you were too busy drinking my wine to bear witness to whatever this is?”
Elyria peered at Jianna, who gave a subtle shake of her head. “I don’t believe I’m invited.” She nestled further into her seat, taking another sip of wine as though it might mask her obvious irritation—perhaps even a touch of hurt. “I suppose I’ll just have to hear it from him myself later.”
With a sigh, Kit turned to the fidgeting Jianna. “All right, let’s get this over with.”
They had almost made it to the door when Elyria called out softly, “Hey, Kitty Kat?”
“Yes, Ellie?”
“Think we should be worried?”
“About my hardheaded, big-hearted brother? Always.”