She scoffed. “Well, that’s because Kiran’s father was a paranoid tyrant.”
I almost choked. That he was. That he was.
“Kiran intends to rule differently than his father.” The pride that emanated from the woman before me…it almost hurt. To have a wife who spoke about her husband with such confidence, such adoration…
I’d grown up in court, and though my mother hardly ever spoke an ill word of my father, I’d overheard plenty of my mother’s courtiers bashing their husbands.
Granted, most of their husbands deserved little more respect than that which was granted to them.
But still.
I imagined that having a partner who spoke about you that way…Well, it would spur me to be a better male, that was for sure.
“I have no doubt about that.” I omitted the part where I was fairly certain the king’s change of heart had almost nothing to do with an innate sense of righteousness, and everything to do with the woman standing before me. “But just because your husband intends to rule differently doesn’t mean he has to attend celebratory balls for which he clearly has no interest.”
The Queen of Naenden sighed. “Fine,” she said, “but if we’re going to discuss this, I’d rather not have to shout about it from across the room.”
I must have squirmed, because she rolled her eye. “I promise Kiran isn’t going to turn you to ash just for dancing with me at a reasonably chaste distance.”
“Yes, but you’re a human. So is your promise really worth that much?”
She shrugged. “Fair.”
Still, I couldn’t help but be curious, so I pulled her closer, until the scent of smoked cedar and citrus wafting from her hair filled my nostrils.
No matter what she assured me, I still kept a platonic distance between the two of us, even as the music slowed and the crowd began to pull their partners closer, to sway in a rhythmic pulse.
“There was a human who owned a shop in town—her name was Madame LeFleur. I doubt you keep up with all the vendors in the city, but—”
“Madame LeFleur? I’ve heard the name.” On the lips of many a woman I’d courted over the years, though I didn’t disclose as much. I’d seen it on their bottles too, the ones they tried to leave in my bathing chambers as if they’d be back for another visit the next night. Plus, her shop was next-door to Forcier’s. Hadn’t I noticed something about it last time I stopped by? That it was up for lease, perhaps?
“Well, she’s dead now.”
So matter-of-fact, this queen.
“I’m…sorry to hear that? Was she of importance to you?”
Queen Asha groaned. “We believe she was involved in a matter that is important to our…kingdom’s security.”
That caught my attention. “I know Naenden and Dwellen are on somewhat friendly terms, but you know you can’t just come here expecting to arrest a Dwellen citizen.”
“I wouldn’t call relations friendly after your father attempted to spear my sister with conjured vines during the Council meeting.”
If my hands weren’t otherwise occupied with the dance, I would have dragged them down my face. “I’d forgotten about that,” I admitted.
“Yes, well, the Council has too given that he didn’t succeed in harming her, but I have not.” A wicked grin spread across her gnarled lips. “And neither has my husband.”
This time I avoided glancing at the King of Naenden. It wasn’t as if checking to make sure he hadn’t moved would serve as a comfort.
“Okay, so maybe you deserve one under-the-table arrest,” I said.
Her hand flitted in mine, as if she couldn’t suppress the urge to wave my comment away. “We didn’t intend to arrest her. Only talk to her.”
I leveled a knowing stare at the queen.
“Fine. We would have brought her back to Naenden if we’d found her, though not as a punishment for any crime.”
“Let me guess. She had something you needed.”
“We didn’t need it as much as we needed someone else not to have it.”
“A weapon?”
The queen shrugged. “Of sorts. Not one that you or your father would be interested in, I assure you.”
She must have realized I wasn’t convinced, because she added, “Let’s just say it’s quite dangerous and only a fool would think he could wield it.”
Her jaw clenched at that.
“Does this he have a name?”
“This he is hypothetical.”
“No, he’s not.”
When she shot me a questioning look, I said, “Trust me, I’ve spurned enough women to recognize the expression. He is quite real.”
She rolled her eye again, which I was beginning to find quite endearing.
