Page 111 of Jeweler to the Blessed
Prince Elias stepped into his place confidently, secure in his position. “Who was that?”
I saw no harm in the truth. “My guard.”
At my words, something flashed in Elias’s gaze. He paused in thought, as if he wasn’t sure my answer was the one he was searching for. “I knew his voice sounded familiar.” He shook his head. “He does like to stay close, doesn’t he?”
I let the comment pass. Surely, the prince wasn’t interested in discussing his jeweler’s guard. The music swelled as the new dance started, and we were off. Elias held me formally, a good few inches of distance between us. I tried to keep myself loose in his arms instead of stiffening at the contact.
His gaze lingered a moment too long. “You look stunning.”
I attempted a dip of my chin as we moved between the other couples. “Thank you for the dress.”
Elias wasn’t as graceful as Hart, but I found it didn’t matter. The other couples on the dancefloor parted, giving way to the prince. Did he even notice?
He waved away my comment. “I wish I could give you more. You’ve been such an asset to us—Jeweler to the Blessed.”
I didn’t like his enthusiasm, but I thanked him for his compliments.
He held my gaze. “Your work is impeccable. Your talents are unmatched. I’m not sure you realize the prize you are.”
“You’re too kind.”
Had Alaric done things differently with the Glanmores? Had I made a mistake by fulfilling their requests? I wished I could ask Alaric any of these questions because I certainly didn’t care for the prince’s attachment to my talents.
Elias didn’t realize the effect his words had on me. “I’m not kind enough. I know you must have questions, especially about your uncle ...”
He let the sentence trail off, and I stiffened. He couldn’t possibly know what I’d been thinking. Lost in thought, I hadn’t tracked the flow of our dance. Our movements had taken us toward the same set of doors through which the woman had entered during my last audience with King Rodric.
As if taking advantage of my surprise at his mention of Alaric, we exited the dancefloor. The awaiting guards opened the door, and the prince slid his hand into my own, pulling me behind him.
I didn’t see Hart anywhere in the room. He must have gone outside to the courtyard. The idea of leaving with Elias had me uneasy. “Where are we?—”
“I need to show you something, Emberline. Don’t be upset. I want to be honest with you.”
My stomach dropped. I had yet to understand why, but wherever he led me, I knew I’d rather not go. His long strides took us down a hallway and through another set of doors.
The room was very much like the prince’s study. Shelves of books lined the walls, and a portrait of Themis holding a golden scale hung behind a large wooden desk.
I knew whose study we were in. My gaze snapped to the corner where King Rodric sat in one of the plush chairs. All breath left my lungs as I realized who was beside him.
On his knees, bloody, bruised, and bound—was Alaric.
I was across the floor and kneeling beside him before the prince could catch me.
“Uncle.”
Alaric’s mouth was covered with a dirty cloth. His gaze met mine in one of resignation. So many unspoken words passed between us.
Questions flooded my mind, but I dared not voice them: What happened? Why didn’t you tell me … any of this? Why did you leave?
I couldn’t believe he was here.
My gaze lingered again on his appearance. He was definitely not a welcome guest. Not dressed in finery and turned about the dancefloor like I had just been. Rope tied his wrists like those of a prisoner. Ice shot down my spine, and I masked my fear. Alaric was most definitely in trouble. I just didn’t know why.
“Why is he bound?” I asked with all the authority I could muster. “Free him. Let him retake his place if he’s been found.”
King Rodric sipped a light brown liquid from a fine glass. “I don’t think I will.”
My gaze turned to the king. “What has he done?”
