Chapter 19 #2
“Last night. When I found out Lady Juliette was here, I knew I had to pay her a visit.” He takes a sip of his wine, then sets the glass down. “Last I heard, you were still at the border, burning down towns and stealing family heirlooms from old women.”
The air is thick with tension. There’s history here, and I want nothing more than for them to keep talking.
“Don’t worry, the deals you made with the emperor held strong, and we weren’t allowed into any of your estates.” Brevan glances at me, then returns his gaze to Nikolay.
I don’t miss his hint and know Brevan said that entirely for my benefit. He doesn’t want me to like Nikolay. But why?
“I have nothing to hide, as you and the emperor well know,” he says.
“How’s that petition to return to Iskvaland?” Brevan asks. “Has the king reinstated your titles?”
“I have no use for Iskvalandian titles.” He looks over at me. “No offense, Princess.” Then he fixes his gaze on Brevan again. “I am Pendralian. You of all people should understand how it works to renounce your homeland.”
I lean slightly forward. Does Nikolay know the enforcer’s history? I know Brevan doesn’t want to share, but I can’t help my curiosity.
“Well, as interesting as this is, gentlemen, I’m afraid you’re both being rather rude by leaving the rest of us out of the conversation,” Juliette says.
Nikolay inclines his head. “Of course, I apologize. Sometimes we men forget how to behave in such exquisite company.”
I notice that some of my ladies actually blush from his words.
“Princess, how have you found the transition to Pendralia? I have to say, I didn’t miss Iskvaland as much as I thought I would.”
“It helps when there are such wonderful people here to occupy my time,” I say.
“Will they let you return after the royal wedding?” Charlotte asks.
“Perhaps,” he says. “You know, there is one thing I do miss.”
“What’s that?” Juliette asks.
He looks over at me with a lecherous grin, then says in Iskvalandian, “Taking royal women to bed after they’ve had too much to drink.”
The color drains from my face, and my jaw opens, but before I can respond, Brevan is out of his seat, his chair crashing to the floor behind him. He grabs Nikolay by the collar and pulls him from his seat.
Servants walk in just then, platters of food in their hands. They all freeze, their eyes wide.
“Was that a threat?” Brevan asks with a growl. “The emperor should have taken your head.”
“Let him go!” Juliette is tugging on Brevan’s tunic, trying to pull him off Nikolay.
I stand, then slam my fists on the table. The plates and silverware rattle, and gasps surround me. “Both of you, stop it now.”
Juliette releases Brevan, but the enforcer doesn’t loosen his grip on Nikolay’s collar.
The older man grasps Brevan’s hands. “You heard the”—he switches to Iskvalandian—"spoiled bitch”— then returns to Pendralian—"stop it.”
My face heats, and I round the table, fully intending to stop this myself when Brevan punches Nikolay in the face.
The older man cries, then presses his hand over his jaw where the punch landed. “You asshole!” He spits blood on the floor.
“Both of you, out!” Juliette screams. “This is supposed to be a party!”
“Don’t let me see you around her again,” Brevan growls. “I’m sure the prince would love to hear what you said about his future bride.”
Nikolay gives Juliette a glance, then hurries from the room, his hand still covering his face.
“You, too,” Juliette says to Brevan.
He inclines his head, then leaves the dining room. I watch him walk out and fight the desire to chase after him.
“Are you alright?” Juliette slides her arm around me. “I’m so sorry. I will never invite him to anything again.”
“What did he say?” Genevieve asks.
“He said he likes to sleep with drunk royal women,” Antonia says.
The other women gasp.
My brow furrows. “I didn’t know you speak Iskvalandian.”
“My parents insisted I learn as many languages as possible.” She shrugs.
“Well, I’m glad the enforcer punched him.” Genevieve takes a sip of her wine, then sets the cup down. “And if he comes anywhere near you, we will be sure to inform the legion so they can remove him.”
“I had no idea he was like that,” Juliette says. “He was always so kind.”
The servants are still standing in the doorway. “Juliette.” I tilt my head toward them.
“Oh, gods. I’m sorry you had to see that. I assume you understand that this doesn’t leave this room?”
They nod.
“Dinner, anyone?” Juliette says.
The servants hesitantly walk farther into the room, and when nobody stops them, they begin adding food to all the plates before hurrying away.
Conversation slowly returns, starting with safe topics like when the ladies think we’ll get snow and what everyone wants to wear to the next ball. Once they’re all eating and laughing and more relaxed, I excuse myself for a moment.
When I step outside Juliette’s room, I find Brevan waiting in the hall.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He keeps his gaze forward, looking anywhere except at me.
“Thank you.” Those stupid flutters return to my chest.
“You’re welcome.”
“I should get back,” I say.
“Probably,” he agrees.
“I’m glad you were there.” I sigh, then say something I shouldn’t. Again. “I do feel safer when you’re around.”
He looks at me for the first time since I walked out here. “I’m just doing my job.”
“We both know this is so below your skills. You’re wasted guarding one woman when you could do so much more.”
“You’re worth it,” he says.
My cheeks heat.
“I mean, there’s a lot resting on your upcoming wedding.”
“Of course.” I turn toward the door, then pause with my hand on the knob. “Do you want me to send some food out for you?”
“No.”
Of course not. “Alright. I’ll see you when I’m done, I suppose?”
“I’ll be right here.”