Chapter Twenty-Six
“Can you believe him?” Austin raved as their carriage travelled beneath an ancient marble arch carved with merfolk and monsters.
“What am I supposed to do with a cat? I am not being responsible for a—I’ll feed it to the matriarch!
Would that be evil? I don’t want to be evil. You feed it to the matriarch.”
Tristan sat opposite Austin, comfortable against the velvet-cushioned seats, lit by the same glowing blue stones that now dominated the estate.
A deceptively plain forest-green shirt hugged the swell of his broad shoulders in soft silk, tucked into dark cotton trousers.
Unusually, he’d deigned to put on a pair of tall black boots.
His hair was clasped back with a golden pin rather than tied in its usual messy bun.
Austin had made him wear it to match his own golden body jewellery.
“Are you sending Liam away? If not, he can mind it. Or we can send someone to watch over your territory. Char usually has someone in training under him at the ready.” Tristan offered the solutions mildly. “Or I can feed it to the matriarch, if that’s what you really want.”
Austin flashed his teeth at Tristan, supremely irritated.
Tristan didn’t seem to notice. He hummed, distracted eyes on Austin’s wrists.
Decorative metal gauntlets shaped like laurel leaves hugged Austin’s forearms, the craftsmanship so precise it looked as though someone had poured molten gold over a real plant.
A gift from Hal that had arrived that morning.
The carriage pulled up outside Hal’s palace, a series of large stone buildings roofed in colourful terracotta tiles.
A large grey wall overgrown by lush vines with white blossoms ringed the estate.
Inside, the grounds bustled with activity.
Austin peered through the curtain at the line of carriages they were passing.
Among the guards, he spotted familiar faces from Tristan’s personal Troop.
“You never answered my question earlier,” Austin said.
“Which question?”
“Do you have an attendant?” Austin turned back in time to see surprise cross Tristan’s face.
“I don’t,” he answered.
“Are you going to get one?”
A brow went up. “Certainly not.”
Austin peered closely at Tristan, mapping every micro-expression, seeking out any sign of deceit. “Ever?”
“No.” The answer was dead steady.
Austin leaned back. “I won’t either.”
An unmistakably pleased look spread across Tristan’s face. The hum he released was one of deep gratification.
The carriage came to a stop. Tristan climbed out first and turned back to offer Austin his hand, helping him down. A warm breeze was blowing in from the ocean, a little blustery, but nothing like the gales of the past few nights.
“Is there going to be a storm surge tonight?”
“A high tide.” Tristan glanced at the ocean far below. “And tomorrow, another surge.”
Austin fell into step with Tristan as they approached the building. Just as they had skirted the line of carriages, they bypassed the line of people waiting to be cleared by guards. Curious gazes followed him.
Unlike the Justice Hall, with its clean lines and hard stone, the palace felt warmer.
Birds, fish, and plants were carved into the exposed brickwork, decorating the entrance pillars from top to bottom.
The main double doors were bronze and similarly alive with dancing motifs.
Inside, paintings and tapestries lined the walls.
Tristan led him past the guards without pausing.
Tall vases stood around the edges of the room, bursting with an array of jewel-coloured dewdrop flowers.
A raised stage in the corner held a dozen musicians—Austin spotted Kada and Jaris among them, both smiled in his direction—and large tables ringed a broad expanse of empty floor.
Tristan’s hand drifted to Austin’s lower back as Austin studied their surroundings. There were square pools of water set along the side wall, and it was too dark to see the bottom.
An almost envious look crossed Tristan’s face. “They lead into the bay. Hal can navigate the tunnels with ease but, unfortunately, I no longer fit. I only got two years’ use out of them before I risked getting stuck.”
“The last monarch wouldn’t have fit in those either.”
“No, she outgrew them. But from what I’ve heard, she spent little time here later in her reign anyway.
She ventured out, searching the far seas for whatever this place no longer gave her.
She simply never came back from one of those ventures, and her court kept watch, waiting for her return.
” Tristan directed Austin towards the back wall.
“Our seats are at the high table next to Hal. The Zatic and Asar delegates will both be attending. They’ll be sitting with us too. ”
The table Tristan pointed to held Hal, dark-haired and so like Tristan, seated in the middle. At his right side was the terrible beauty Kas, the man Hal had stripped of half his fortune the last time Austin had been in the city.
“Is it smart to have them all here together?” Austin asked as they crossed the room. “Aren’t they enemies?”
“Not our enemies,” Tristan replied. “Hal doesn’t engage in foreign affairs. Unless he can commit the resources and men to maintain the changes afterwards, he thinks it better to let people find their own solutions. Those are the kind that last.”
“Which is why people come to you to ask for aid? Because you will help?”
Tristan’s expression turned measured. “I do not wish you to think me more altruistic than I am. I hear out requests and send men who I think are appropriate to deal with them. Practical experience is essential for training, and Justerra is now too peaceful to offer such a thing.”
Austin let the conversation drop as they stepped onto the raised platform where Hal’s dinner table stood. Hal’s blue eyes were upon him, and the chair at his side was already pushed back and waiting. Austin slid into it without complaint. Tristan sat on his immediate left.
Hal brightened the moment Austin sat. “Austin. I’m delighted you could join me.
Tristan has been ridiculous about letting us meet…
He refused to grant me entry to the estate yesterday!
I only wanted to apologise for getting on your nerves when we met.
I’m sorry for that. I’ll not annoy you tonight, I swear. ”
Austin listened with a frown, caught off guard by the surge of words.
Tristan made an objecting noise. “You’re annoying him already.”
Hal’s blue eyes lifted over Austin’s head to Tristan. “I am not,” he replied, irritated. “How am I annoying him?”
Austin didn’t like that they were able to talk over his head so easily.
“Hal.”
Hal’s eyes flicked toward him.
Austin smiled. “Swap seats with Kas.”
Tristan choked.
Austin quickly looked at him. Tristan had a hand over his mouth, poorly attempting to hide his laugh.
Tristan’s eyes danced with merriment as they met Austin’s. He leaned in, quickly kissing Austin’s cheek, then looked to Hal. “I warned you beforehand.”
Hal turned to Kas. “Would you mind swapping with me?”
“That’s the prince’s seat,” Kas said.
Hal leaned in, speaking quietly into Kas’s ear.
Whatever he said made Kas’s dark eyes brighten, and he rose with a hum.
The two swapped seats, Kas casting Austin a curious look as he settled beside him.
Tristan poured Austin and himself two glasses of wine—murmured into Austin’s ear that it was nonalcoholic—and before another word could be exchanged, two groups nothing like the locals entered the room.
They appeared entirely human and ordinary, while the rest of Hal’s court was an amalgam of monster and other.
One group wore dark greys and browns, adorned with dark-coloured stitching that became visible only when it caught the light. Among this group was a middle-aged woman wearing a jet-black dress, a matching cape, and a crown of gold inlaid with a multitude of white jewels.
The group next to them wore metallic-toned clothes, the men in waistcoats of copper brocade, while the women wore dresses of the same fabric. A man stood out in golden brocade, a solid gold circlet resting atop his head.
Hostile looks passed between the two groups, the air thick with tension.
“Which is which?” Austin asked.
“Asar are dressed in the dark colours, Zatic in the metals,” Kas answered, inclining his head towards Austin. His eyes were bright and sharp. “That is the queen of Asar, and that the king of the Zatic Empire, who our Prince Hal was not aware had arrived in his city.”
Hal regarded the groups with a look of total surprise.
They approached, the king of Zatic and the queen of Asar finding themselves side by side before the high table. A man from the queen’s group fixed Tristan with a severe, disapproving look. Another cast a grin at Tristan and dropped him a wink.
Austin studied the man who had winked. “That’s Nicias?” He was unarmed, but his hand drifted to his side where a weapon should have hung, the same way Liam’s always did.
“Yes,” Tristan murmured.
Austin looked next at the man with the disapproving stare. He was the tallest among both groups, but scrawny and gangly. Austin got the impression that annoyed or not, severity was simply what his face did. “And that’s your father.” Chancellor Desor.
“Yes.”
Hal stood. “Queen Perialla, King Micythus,” he greeted them without bowing, but with a note of respect.
“Welcome to Justerra. Please, sit.” Without preamble, he gestured to his table and then, in what Austin thought was an oddly curious move, simply sat again and offered no further instruction.
It seemed that even within his own court, Hal wouldn’t involve himself in any foreign powers’ scraps.