“What are you talking about?” Kiva whispered back, gripping his elbow to slow his steps.
“Think about it, Sweet Cheeks,” Caldon said, holding her gaze. “How would you feel if someone you were falling hard for was locked away for more than half their life, and then their siblings swooped in like nothing had happened, wanting to be a family again after ten years of abandonment?” Caldon shook his head. “That’s not right, Sunshine, and you know it.”
Kiva gaped at Caldon. “Jaren’s angry at my family because I was sent to Zalindov? But — But —” She flailed, before hissing, “That doesn’t make sense! It’s not like they sent me there!”
She was walking on thin ice, but Caldon didn’t seem to notice her inflection.
“They left you in there, though,” the prince said. At her incredulous face, his voice dropped to a stunned whisper. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
Kiva didn’t get a chance to reply before Mirryn called to them from inside the room.
“Do you two plan on joining us today?”
Caldon covered Kiva’s hand that was still gripping his elbow, her fingers now cold, and guided her into the River Room.
“Sorry, lover’s spat,” he said with a winning smile.
Kiva shot him a look and tried to tug her hand free, but he only held on tighter, walking her over to the table that was similar in style to the dinner she’d shared with the Vallentis family. Instead of a roasted meal, there were mountains of salads and cheeses and breads, along with cold meats and raw vegetables, all plated beside crystal goblets full of sparkling juice and vases bursting with snowblossoms. In the background, the Serin River glittered through the windows, the spring sunshine touching the surface like liquid gold.
At any other time, Kiva would have marveled at the display. Today she had to stop herself from running out of the room.
Everyone had already taken their seats as she and Caldon approached, with him pushing her into the space beside Jaren before taking the empty chair at her other side.
Kiva’s hands trembled at the seating arrangements. Naari and Tipp were fine, but Zuleeka was next to the princess — a disaster waiting to happen — and Torell was directly opposite Jaren, with the prince glaring between both of Kiva’s siblings, but his wrath focused most intently on her brother.
“This looks delicious,” she made herself say, barely recognizing her own voice.
“It’s much better than what we’re used to, that’s for sure,” Torell said amiably, waiting for the royals to start helping themselves before following their lead.
“Kiva tells us you live in Oakhollow,” Jaren said. He was the only person at the table not filling his plate. “How do you spend your time?”
“I’m a blacksmith,” Torell answered, layering slices of ham inside a fresh bread roll, his thick arm muscles validating his lie. “Zulee’s a seamstress.”
Kiva was glad she wasn’t eating or drinking anything, because she would have spat it all over the table.
“A seamstress?” Mirryn repeated, turning to Zuleeka with an arched eyebrow as she looked, somewhat judgingly, at her simple outfit.
“A modest trade,” Zuleeka said, ducking her head in a contrived show of humility. “But my mother always encouraged me to follow my dreams.”
The words hit Kiva right in the chest.
“And you dream of being a seamstress?” This time there was no missing the derision in Mirryn’s tone.
Jaren must have heard it too, and despite his frosty demeanor, he saved Zuleeka from answering by asking another question. “We haven’t heard much about your mother — does she live with you in Oakhollow?”
Kiva wished he’d left Zuleeka to face Mirryn’s disdain. As far as she could recall, she’d never shared anything about her mother — for good reason — and whatever prison records Caldon had unearthed would have only had information on her father. She scrambled to think of a way to redirect the conversation.
Zuleeka, however, didn’t blink an eyelash before responding, “She did. But unfortunately she passed while Kiva was at Zalindov. They say it was natural causes, but if you ask me, Mother was heartsick for her daughter. It was a terrible loss for us all.”
When I look at you, I can’t help thinking of how she went to find you. She left us, and she died. For you.
Kiva’s grip on her fork turned painful at the memory of Zuleeka’s words.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Jaren said softly, and Kiva knew the sentiment was for her.