In the golden glow; in the gentle warmth, I take a sip of the rich, spicy wine. It dances on my tongue and sends a molten caress down my throat.
No strange effects this time.
Thank the Goddess.
“You’re wondering what it’s like to be one of them again, don’t you?”
He moves closer, until his lips are almost brushing my ear. “I didn’t ask for this. I don’t understand it. There are times when I wish I could sit amongst my men and banter, but those days are long gone. I’m just fortunate that they trust me enough to remain under my command. Otherwise, I would have disappeared a long time ago.”
“Were you ever tempted?”
“Once or twice. But if I did that, Tyron would be defenseless, and all these people would know hard and destitute lives. The Imperial Palace won’t care for them, even though it was father who sent them off to war. I must be the feared archduke in the north, Finley, because people would suffer if I cut ties with this place… with everything that I was in my old life. And I’d become a monster. That’s why I stay. Even if it wasn’t my intention, I thank the Goddess I’ve found you.”
“But I’m human, too. Will that not cause problems, eventually?”
“Are you, really?”
Heat rises in my cheeks. “Of course I bloody am. And I don’t think you’re as terrible as you think you are, either.”
“You aren’t afraid of me?”
“In the beginning, I was, but now… I don’t think I should be.”
Thud!
In the background, another fighter hits the mats, down for the count. A roar goes up from the crowd.
On the table in front of us, alongside the crystal decanter, is an elegant silver pitcher. Corvan takes it and pours a drink of his own.
The liquid’s the same color as my wine, but it’s thicker; more viscous.
“Corvan, what is this?”
He puts his nose to the rim of his glass and takes a deep breath. “This is blood from a young maiden in Sanzar.”
“A maiden? You didn’t…” A sudden rush of anger burns through me; hot and bright.
“She’s fine. It’s a good deal on her end. Earned enough to buy her family a new house.”
“Why?” My anger turns into something else.
My thoughts become irrational. It should only be me.
“Because I needed to know…” He closes his eyes and swirls the glass, raising it to his lips. I watch in fascination as he takes a sip. The blood stains his pale lips. “Whether anything else compares to the taste of you.”
“And?” I want to take that damn glass from him and tip its contents all over the floor.
“It doesn’t. Not even close. But it will at least keep my thirst at bay so that you have time to recover from me.”
A puff of exasperated relief escapes my lips. Why do I feel so relieved?
Why does he look somewhat… pleased? As if my reaction is what he wanted?
Why do I want him to put his lips on my neck again; to feel the sharpness of his fangs as they sink into my skin?
My head swirls. The background noise becomes a roar in my ears. Corvan fills every other part of my consciousness.
The last contender falls. Kaithar’s there, dancing across the floor, graceful and dangerous, holding up the arm of a man and pronouncing him the winner.
On a long table in the center of the hall, the last of the banquet is laid out. There’s suckling pig and roast turkey and pheasant and winter vegetables with pickled berry sauce and rich gravy. The tantalizing smell of freshly baked bread makes my stomach rumble.
Soldiers and servants exchange money, some winning, some losing. Drinks are poured. Congratulations given. Corvan acknowledges the winner with a smile and a lazy salute.
The man, bloodied and bruised, his dark hair plastered with sweat, grins and bows.
As I look around the room, seeing smiling faces and warmth; men acting like brothers, and my own brothers alive and well after a nightmare, it occurs to me that Corvan needn’t have arranged all of this.
None of this is for him.
It’s for everyone else. The soldiers and the servants and my brothers.
And me.
He’s showing me how he rules his world.
28
FINLEY
Corvan leans across, placing his hand over mine. “The night is growing long,” he says softly, “but my men will probably be at it until the birds start chirping. Would you like to escape with me?”
I hesitate.
Nobody is paying us much attention right now.
Aderick has gone to bed. Kastel and Garan have migrated to another table to play cards with a bunch of soldiers. My father has retired to his quarters. Vinciel slipped away as soon as he had a chance, muttering something about how social gatherings were the devil and stating that he much preferred to be up in his tower with a book. Kaithar and the other high-ranking soldiers—Kyron, Galaen, Ingvar, and Renfrei, if I remember correctly—are huddled together, deep in some terribly serious conversation.
“Let me rephrase that. What would you like to do now, Finley? Just tell me, and I will oblige.”
A hundred possibilities flit through my mind, some carnal.
I don’t dare. I’m not quite ready for that.
But there’s one thing I’ve been trying to do for days, and I keep getting thwarted. “I want to take a walk outside. To the stables.”
He chuckles softly. “Not what I would have predicted, but I’ll humor you. My lady.” He gets up from his chair and holds out his hand.
I slip my fingers into his as I rise. A hundred eyes flick toward us, but Corvan pays them no heed.
“Leaving already, Your Highness?” Kaithar is grinning.
“It’s been a pleasure as always, gentlemen.” Corvan tips his head in acknowledgement. He’s effortlessly regal. “Enjoy your night, lads.”
Kaithar rises to his feet. The others follow suit, bowing deeply. “Lady Solisar.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly. I’ll never get used to people bowing for me. “I’ve enjoyed your company this evening. I appreciate all your efforts to make me feel welcome.”
Corvan smiles enigmatically and leads me through the throng. People part like reeds bowing before the wind.
For one surreal, unnerving moment, silence falls across the room.
Corvan moves silently, as if gliding across the floor. The lamplight casts a golden glow upon his wintry visage. As he leads me away, his hand in mine is gentle and insistent, but never forceful.
It’s as if he’s standing on top of a mountain, all alone. I understand it now… a little. There’s a great chasm between him and his men, and he can never go back.
I hold his hand tightly and walk just a little bit closer.
It feels like an eternity until we reach the large doors at the end of the great hall. Corvan tips his head in acknowledgement as he draws me toward the exit. He doesn’t say a word as we depart; quietly, elegantly, hundreds of eyes upon us.
The door closes behind us with a soft click, drowning out the noise.
I look at him in surprise. “You didn’t address them. Isn’t that what the lord of the castle is supposed to do?”
“Sometimes, the less that’s said, the better. I don’t have to justify my existence or try to explain the unexplainable. That in itself can arouse unnecessary suspicion. Better to just be, and let my actions do the talking. Sometimes, I just let Kaithar smooth things out. The bastard has a way with words when he chooses.”