Dean was laughing now, and it appeared genuine. He was a good actor, Ingrid thought, because he couldn’t have been enjoying himself. The queen had certain alluring qualities, sure, but they all paled in comparison to the vile pomp oozing from her every word.
“An understatement,” Gerhardt scoffed. “The games, they are more than popular, my lady. They are a sensation! Morale has never been higher. Even in Horace’s golden years, there was nothing like it. Unprecedented. The games are simply a sensation!”
The loud repetition drew the attention of surrounding guests, but Ingrid’s eyes were still on the queen.
Rolling one of her new gems between her fingers, Enitha reacted to Dean so animatedly it was hard not to wince. Her flirtatious actions seemed choreographed, as if her eyes were watching from the other side of the room and directing her body how to move—and move she did, ceaselessly fidgeting with her hair, her dress, and adjusting the jewelry wrapped around her neck and adorning half of her fingers. She was a mess of limbs and hair and self-conscious ticks, moving, moving, moving…
And then reaching an arm out, toward Dean, and gently caressing his thigh. Ingrid seethed at the sight. She didn’t care how childish it was. She didn’t care that there were many more important things to focus on. She let the rage bubble and burn inside her, let her mind conjure fantasies of what she’d do to that hand.
But before her temper spiraled completely, for the briefest of moments, she caught Dean’s eyes. Maybe a heartbeat, over in a fraction of a second.
While Enitha was in one of her laughing fits, Dean stared directly at Ingrid, let his mouth open slightly, and then rolled his eyes.
Stupid.Beyond idiotic. For someone like Enitha to catch even a hint of ridicule, it could ruin everything. Everything he himself had worked himself into a frenzy about.
Stupid.
So stupid.
Yet, she couldn’t help but smile.
“And what was it you were saying about Horace?” Tyla must’ve sensed Ingrid was a little preoccupied, raising her voice. “About his spending habits?”
“Horace, yes, uhh—whatwasI saying?”
“His hobby,” Tyla encouraged him.
“Hobby!? Oh, no, it was more than that,” Gerhardt said loosely. “An obsession, more like it. Common among the royals, I fear. To taste power like that, one is bound to develop an appetite.”
“How so?” Tyla asked.
Gerhardt looked shocked. “How so? How so!? No matter the outcome of our previous attempts, he kept spending. More and more and more.” He grunted in disgust. “Heavy coin was wasted on the travel alone. Finding those magic wielders, spell-crafters, potion masters! Never mind the lengths we went to at the end of it all.” Gerhardt inched close. “He even sent envoys to Earth, of all places. There are no portals in the Isles! Even foreigners such as yourself know that.” His wandering eyes fixed on Tyla long enough to recognize a nod from her. “Yes, yes, well, that was when I simplyhadto object. You see, I told King Horace, if it hadn’t happened yet, if he hadn’t been able to awakensome dormant ability within him, then he likely never would. No matter how many powerful individuals he brought to court.”
Ingrid’s attention split at that, as if the frequency of Gerhardt’s voice had altered entirely.
“Was Enitha one of them?” she asked lowly, fearing the answer but unable to avoid it. “Was that how she ended up here?”
“One of the first brought to court,” Gerhardt said. “She was raised here in the Isles, you see. Easy to find, andfindher, Horace did. If you follow my meaning.” The inebriated male blinked rapidly, trying to gauge whether or not his guests had, in fact, followed his meaning.
“They were lovers!” he repeated too loudly.
Both Tyla and Ingrid simultaneously recoiled, looking to one another in disbelief. Enitha and King Horace. Together. How had this information not been relayed to Callinora? Her insiders, the ones the princess trusted with her new friend’s lives, how had they missed this? Or the fact that King Horace was still alive?
Ingrid’s stomach turned. It was looking more and more likely that the spies had abandoned Callinora. Either out of fear, or because they had flipped loyalties.
“What was Enitha brought to court for?” Ingrid pushed the drunken man as gently as she could. “What kind of power does she possess?
“Power? Oh, no, I shouldn’t speak of such things.” His eyes wandered, as if he’d forgotten not only Ingrid’s question but where he currently stood. “In the beginning,” he went on. “Truthfully, I took pity on the girl. Horace was never going to marry Enitha, no. He couldn’t. Even if…” He stopped himself short. “No, no, anyway, Horace wasn’tthat kind of man. He valued the kingdom far more than matters of the heart. Marrying for political gain, that was the intelligent choice, ofcourse. No matter his declarations of love to young Enitha, it was never going to happen. He was always going to wed the highest-ranking female presented to him.”
“And did he?” Tyla asked in a choked whisper. “Did he marry?”
Gerhardt leaned in, a sobering rush of anger overcoming her. “We do not speak of her. It is forbidden.”
Damning the risk, Tyla looked to Ingrid and said, “Ourhandler should’ve been told all this, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” Ingrid nodded. “And there’s more.” She wanted to inform Tyla of the information Lucilla gave her about the King, but settled on, “I’m wondering about our partners here. If they left without informing us?”
“Or maybe they aren’t our partners at all?”