Page 59 of The Shadow Path
“I was going back and forth.” Carys kept her voice low and glanced at Duncan. “But maybe not anymore.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Remember” —Cadell led Carys across the torch-lit drawbridge and into Harold’s castle right next to the river— “this is a party, but this is also a show of strength, a political theater, and an occasion to declare alliances.” The dragon kept his voice low. “Be careful who you are seen talking to, and beverycareful who you dance with.”
Dammit, she knew the dancing thing was important. “What does a first dance signal?”
“It depends,” Cadell said. “But in a situation like this, it’s usually a declaration of alliance.”
Alliance, huh? Carys looked over her shoulder to where Duncan was smiling at Laura. Had Carys declared an alliance with Duncan when he claimed the first dance at the welcome banquet?
Laura and Duncan were laughing and joking as they walked into the party. They looked like they were ready for fun, not being lectured by a dragon.
“The participants of a dance can be very significant,” Cadell continued. “Harold will likely not dance at all.”
“Because he doesn’t want to show favoritism?”
“Because of that and because he is the guest of honor.” Cadell looked up, scanned the growing crowd, and nodded to someone in the distance. “The dances are to amuse him. He’s the audience, not the entertainment.”
“Got it.” She scanned the courtyard as they made their way through the heavy military presence and into the main hall. “I don’t see Lachlan.”
“I imagine he’s already inside. Harold was raised for many years in the Alban court. The alliance between Alba and Anglia is as close as it has been in centuries. The seating tonight will reflect that.”
“And Cymru?”
“We have always been separate.” Cadell spoke carefully. “And that is by design. It is not prudent for a small nation as powerful as Cymru to show favoritism. And that extends to social interactions.”
“So I shouldn’t spend too much time with Lachlan is what you’re saying?”
“Seren and Lachlan’s marriage was a turbulent time.” Cadell’s voice was wooden. “I suspect the four royal courts of Briton are looking forward to more tranquility during Harold’s reign.” He glanced at Carys. “You should know that since it might influence decisions that are in your hands, my lady.”
Fine. Message received. Lachlan was a bad romantic bet for lots of reasons, and one of them happened to be world peace.
Cadell navigated them between a row of red-clad sword-bearers, bronze blades raised to form an archway that all guests walked under.
“Two messages,” Cadell said. “In Harold’s house, we are under the protection of the Anglian throne. We are also under its blade.”
“Got it.” Carys’s head was spinning. There was a reason she’d never much cared for political science. It was one thing to dissecthidden meaning in myth and literature. It was a whole other thing to have to parse every word and action so as not to cause a war that could affect thousands of people.
Tell me the truth,Carys said in Cadell’s mind.Does anyone besides Dafydd want me near the throne of Cymru?
“Absolutely not,” Cadell’s voice was low and urgent.But you should not tell anyone that right now.
Carys blinked. “Why not?”
“That’s for your uncle to decide, not you.”
Okay, so maybe she’d been too free speaking to Anwyn. Yet another reason she probably shouldn’t be queen.
Cadell spoke to her mind.Be very conscious of your station tonight, Nêrys. Every movement, every dance or conversation, matters.
“Right.”
So be royal. Or a royal possibility.
But not too royal. Or too interested in being royal.
Fuck, this was complicated.
