Chapter 44 Impromptu Mating Ball

Chapter 44 Impromptu Mating Ball
Fiona

Once upon a time, this sort of gathering would have been more of a mating ball, but with all the turmoil that had plagued the entire continent over the years, no one trusted anyone enough to invite them behind their defenses or to go somewhere they would be outnumbered, but they had all come here. I don’t remember all the rules about mating balls, but I know that at least it’s essentially a guarantee for peace.

Whatever Lucian is doing, it doesn't seem to be in that vein, but I can hope that the connections I’m making and the conversations being started across the hall are enough to make it difficult to carry out. So long as food is provided, someone’s marriage ends up being planned, and enough people get drunk, this night should pull on everyone’s mutual cultural understanding of a mating ball and, hopefully, inspire peace. 

Across the room, Cara hasn’t moved. She watches me like a hawk, but I can see understanding starting to dawn in her eyes. Surprisingly, her husband is missing. I catch Lucian's sister glaring needles between my shoulder blades as I speak to another widowed king looking to continue his legacy. He's old enough to be my father, and while he doesn't leer at me, his interest makes me a little ill.

I know that often women have only marriage as a way to secure their livelihood, but I'm not in that position, no matter how one looks at it. Whether I remain in Varek's custody or not, I'm a princess to a kingdom that has no male heirs, and a warrior in my own right. I don't need to marry for status or my livelihood. I'm privileged, I know that.

We pass beneath the archway leading toward the corridor that connects the hall to the dining room. The noise of the hall is thinner here. I can make out the murmur of a quieter conversation. My eyes flick to the side and catch on a sliver of movement through a half-open door.

It's Lucian with another king. Lucian's head was bent low so low, I didn’t see the king of Hyath at first. Their voices are too low to catch, but I see the gleam of satisfaction in Lucian’s eyes. Then the man clasps his hand in a way that says they've come to an agreement. I slow my steps, angling myself to see better without being obvious. Dante notices at once, following my gaze. His expression sharpens.

“That,” I murmur, my voice pitched for his ears alone, “seems questionable, doesn't it?”

“Yes,” Dante says, tone grim. His eyes narrow on Lucian. “Who is he? The blond."

"Commander Lucian of Caldara," I say.

My stomach twists as they part. Lucian slips back into the main hall, but the other man walks away. It's suspicious. The nobles gathered here are supposed to be circling me like vultures, jostling to strike deals through Varek. Why is Lucian brokering agreements in back corridors? Varek couldn't know about this.

“Any idea what they’re up to?” I ask.

“Didn't catch it,” Dante mutters. “And they're clearly using the party to cover it up. Whatever it is, it isn’t for your Alpha King’s benefit.”

My pulse jumps. "Mine?"

Dante cocks an eyebrow. "I wasn't being used in a lover's game earlier?"

My face heats, and I scowl at him. "Shut up."

"Incoming, little ember."

I force a smile as another cluster of nobles comes our way.

“I thought you'd grown out of meddling in other people’s wars.”

“Only when they’re smart enough not to make me part of it,” I reply sweetly and greet the group of nobles when they get close enough to start introducing themselves. Each one smells of salt and smoke, sea-trade and wood. They're exactly the kind of men who’d welcome better ties to a lord of the busiest and largest ports. They'd probably docked at his port, depending on where they came from.

Dante speaks with them long enough that they have plans to speak to him more later. Then, I pull him towards the burly man whose laugh booms too loudly. He greets us warmly enough, but his wife’s eyes shine sharper than his, and it’s clear their coffers aren’t as fat as they’d like. They talk of grain shortages in their territory and the tariffs from another territory being too high. The man has a daughter who seems to be Liora’s age, maybe younger. She stands stiffly in a gown clearly made to impress. She looks trapped and a little fearful, looking up at Dante warily.

"Do you have carts and horses?" He tilts his head. "Carts with wolves large enough to pull it?"

They look like they've been slapped. "To use our warriors like draft horses…"

"Cheaper than draft horses, and I was under the impression you were looking to cut costs. It's always cheaper to handle your own transportation."

Dante’s smooth voice talks about the cost of transportation across land being more expensive than any tariffs imposed. The young woman seems to relax as it's clear that he's not hearing any talk about a marriage contract. Dante calls another person over, whom I don't recognize.

"This man should be able to help with your transportation issue."

I smile, watching him work. For all his rough charm, it’s clear he knows his trade. I wish Liora were in the room to see and hear how capable he is, but I'm sure Cara will get the chance to tell her all about it when I get them in the same room again. We walk away from the two, heading toward Cara, who has taken a seat in the corner.  

“Interesting that you're having all these conversations and you've yet to bring up King Philip…"

Dante huffs a laugh. “He knows nothing about the ports other than they keep him fed. And we're not exactly on the best of terms with regards to this deal he has with Caldara.” His mouth twists. “He's far too yielding to a man he could starve within a month."

I file that away. There’s a rawness in the way he says it, like they've had the argument many times before.

"Where is my dearest cousin?" He asks. I follow his line of sight only to see Cara still alone. An attendant had brought her a goblet. "Odd."

"Is it?"

"He's not really left her side since she got pregnant… and he went ahead of me rather than waiting, though it was only a few hours difference. He's not a good fighter. He's terrible, actually, and he's never traveled without me before…"

The suspicion in his voice mirrors my own unease. I look around. It's not just Philip that's gone missing. Everywhere I look, there seems to be someone missing, multiple people. I catch snippets of conversations that seem nervous. There are furtive glances between lords who shouldn’t care much for one another. There’s a sense of anticipation that grows stronger with every passing moment.

Suddenly, I feel Varek return and turn. He’s across the hall, head half-turned, crimson eyes locked on me. His gaze sweeps over Dante, over my hand still twined with his arm, and his mouth hardens. I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking away. Instead, I lift my chin, curve my lips into a slow smirk, and meet his glare with challenge.

His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns sharply and crosses the room to Lucian's sister. I bite back a growl as he speaks to her softly. Her eyes brighten, and she twines her arm around his. He leads her to a cluster of nobles and presents her with stiff formality.

I smile at that. He's taking my words to heart and trying to make the most of the gathering. I turn back and still, as I catch sight of Lucian.

He stands a few paces behind Varek, stiff as iron. His expression is full of a sharp, hard, deep anger, vicious and hot enough to melt stone. The rage in his eyes is cold and murderous. A man loyal to Caldara shouldn’t look at his king that way.

Before I can press Dante about it, the hall stirs. New scents reach my nose, but they're familiar ones from home.

My breath catches as my gaze lands on them. My father strides in, his face cool, unreadable as ever, and at his side is Elara, my baby sister.

She looks like she’s about to collapse under the weight of her gown. The front is cut too low; the colors are too bright,  and her hair is piled high and held in place with jeweled pins. She looks nothing like herself, but she looks like she's here to be auctioned.

Her gaze doesn't even lift. I reach out to her through our mind-link, wondering if it's even still intact given how long it's been.

"Elara, what are you wearing?"

Her head lifts. She scans the room, and her eyes fall on me. She scans me quickly, and relief crumples her expression. She starts to come to me, but our father stops her.

My blood goes hot in my veins. I push through the crowd, Dante following a step behind, until I stand before my father.

“What,” I bite out, keeping my voice low but laced with steel, “are you doing, bringing her here like this?”