“I see. You grew up in the shadow of our mountains. It is very different that far north. Do you ever miss it?” He asked.
“I suppose so, yes. I miss the feeling of wild places. The city is beautiful in its own way, and it feels like home now more than anywhere else, but it is… confining at times,” Evienne said, glancing over at him. She knew she was, perhaps, being too open, but she struggled to find it in herself to pull back. If anything, being open might encourage Orion to share some of his own secrets.
They continued in silence for a few minutes until they reached the throne room. Evienne told Orion about how their formal events typically went, and they moved on to the dining hall and the great hall, talking all the while about the weeks ahead.
Evienne found herself wholly distracted every time she really looked at Orion. She had been with many attractive people, butthere was something about him that was so interesting; she could hardly keep her eyes off him.
“Tell me about your magic; what is it like to be the most powerful mage in Ichorna?” Orion asked as they walked toward the library.
Evienne felt a laugh escape before she could fully process what he had said, and she glanced over to find him smiling at her. A dimple, of all things, had appeared on his smooth cheek. She was in trouble.
He waited, smiling, studying her face. Finally, she remembered herself and replied, “I wouldn’t say I’m the most powerful. Queen Aldith, herself, is a trained Sangviere.”
“Ah, you’re humble too, then, as well as incredibly accomplished,” Orion said with a chuckle.
Evienne laughed again, “I am only realistic. What about you, though? You were important enough to accompany Lord Lùtair on this trip; you must be quite well-respected yourself?” Evienne thought she should be using this time to make progress in uncovering his motives—understanding why he, specifically, was here, could be a good start.
“I just love reading, that’s all,” Orion said with a broad smile. “And it seems you’ve brought me to the right place for it.” She knew he was deflecting, but she didn’t want to press him.
They entered the library then, and Evienne showed Orion to the area where the catalogs were laid out alongside a map of the whole space.
As they left the library, Evienne realized she was disappointed that her time alone with Orion was coming to an end. She quickly scolded herself for such a silly feeling; she was about to spend an entire month with him.
They continued talking of things they saw as they walked—other rooms and artwork and views of the city framed by thecolored glass windows. The sun had set by the time they came to the entrance of the guest wing.
“Ah, you’ve brought me back, I see. Tired of me already?” Orion asked with laughter in his voice.
Evienne smiled at him, “Of course not, but I am tired.” She feigned a yawn.
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t dream of keeping the High Sangviere from her rest,” Orion answered. “You’ll need it if you’re going to be dealing with me for the next month,” he added, mischief lighting his eyes.
“Goodnight, Orion,” Evienne said, glancing up at him through her lashes.
Orion leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Goodnight, lovely,deadlyEvienne.” A soft gasp escaped her at his words—no one spoke to her like that—but by the time she had readied a retort he was already shutting his door.
Chapter Seven
Léhiona had beengazing out the massive window in her sitting room that overlooked the main courtyard when the Beitarans arrived. She stood, absently rubbing the tattooed wedding band on her finger as she watched them ride in on their horses, and her heart ached to go to them—to talk with them of home.
She knew she couldn’t, though; to do so would cause her unbearable pain. She wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t kill her. When the King of her homeland put the magical gag on her before sending her to Ichorna, she hadn’t understoodwhy. What was he so afraid she would tell?
Some of the consorts over the years had been men and women of the royal family, but she had barely been raised at court. She had no secrets to reveal—only memories of her culture to share. But, traditions must be followed, so she was bound just like all the consorts before her. All of these years, she had tried to make the most of her situation. Sometimes, though, it was hard. This was sure to be one of those times.
Léhiona fought against the tightness in her throat as she watched Evienne greet the two men. One she did not know, but the sight of Lord Solon sent pangs of homesickness through her heart. She had not known him well in her former life, but he had been good friends with her father. How she missed her family. She knew he would likely have seen them recently, but she simply could not ask.
She turned at the sound of steps echoing across the wood floors. She had insisted on wood instead of marble for her private space—it felt like home.
“There’s my sweet sister! How are you faring?” Sylvain du Pont strode toward her, all youthful confidence and joy. She couldn’t help but smile at him; Sylvain was the perfect brother-in-law, and she absolutely adored spending time with him.
“Sylvain, I am so very happy to see you. I’ve missed you!” She said, embracing him. “I’m glad you could spare us a few weeks. I hope we don’t bore you to tears!” She added, laughing.
“With parties nearly every night? Not a chance! I wouldn’t miss it,” he answered with a wink. “You didn’t answer my question, though. How have you been?”
Léhiona felt her smile falter as she tried to find the words to answer him without mentioning her homeland. “I… I have been well. I am just more tired lately, I think,” she said slowly, trying to regain her smile to reassure him. Sylvain wasn’t fooled, though. Those who didn’t know him well thought him shallow and pleasure-seeking, but Léhiona knew it was all a façade. He was insightful and caring, and he had known her since she arrived in Ichorna twelve years ago.
“Tired, hm? We’ll have to get you to the healers and see if they can identify what the issue is,” he said with a tinge of concern.
“Sylvain, I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m just run down from all of the event planning. You know how particular Aldith can be,” she said, laughing.