Page 41 of Prize for the King
He gives me a bright, radiant smile, and for the first time since I met him, I don’t mind the teeth at all.
“Let’s go then,” he says, taking my hand. “We’re almost late.”
The bath washed away the worst of my pain, and I manage to walk on my own, my head raised high. I keep suppressing the urge to glance at my breasts every second. They are gorgeously pushed up like two plump offerings, and I perversely like the sight of them.
I always loved beautiful, feminine things, but I was too afraid to wear them. I enjoy feeling pretty tonight, even if it’s the dress’s doing, not my natural charm.
We are the last to enter the dining hall. I barely have time to take in the plush carpeting and ornate chandeliers spilling golden candlelight onto the feast, when chairs and benches scrape and shuffle, and the Agnidari soldiers, as well as the castle’s inhabitants, rise as one. At the main table, Magnar pushes his chair away and raises his crystal chalice.
“To the queen,” he says in a commanding, vibrant voice. “May she be healthy and fertile!”
The room explodes with festive shouts, people repeating his toast, some pounding on the tables with their forks. My face grows hot, and I squeeze Khay’s hand with all my might. I feel like everyone’s thinking about me lying naked under Magnar after that toast.
“It’s customary,” Khay whispers above my ear, leading me down a dark red carpet. “That’s how every queen is hailed before she gives birth to an heir. Very proper, very royal.”
That comforts me a little, and I manage a weak smile as I valiantly hold myself back from looking down to check that my heaving breasts haven’t pushed outtoo much.I regret wearing the dress now.Truly, I expected the dinner to be much like our breakfast today with everyone tired from long riding, but it seems this is a feast.
Khay pulls back a heavy chair for me, and I sit between Magnar and the older Agnidari I saw him with earlier. On the other side of the older man sits the first Agnidari woman I’ve ever seen, and I force myself to smile and not stare until we’re introduced.
Magnar puts away his chalice and leans to me, his face almost in my hair.
“Darling, this is Vardi, the man who single-handedly overhauled the art of defensive architecture in Roharra. He is to thank for the fact no one’s invaded us after we started expanding. It’s his castle.”
I smile, taking in our host. His face doesn’t reveal his age. His skin is still mostly smooth, a shade of gray similar to Khay’s, though not freckled. He has a thin mouth and amber eyes, a shock of color among the gray. When he smiles and takes my hand to bow over my knuckles, he does it without showing me his teeth.
His hair is absolutely splendid, shiny and thick. Many human women would be incredibly envious if they saw it.
“You have a beautiful home,” I say, unsure by what title to address him. Magnar only mentioned the architect’s name. “Staying here is a pleasure, and I am very grateful for your magnificent gift of the dress. Your seamstresses possess some kind of magic.”
Vardi looks amused as he straightens. “Thank you, my queen. I must admit Magnar did you a disservice, painting you as a terrified little thing longing for her home. Yet, your manners are so much better than his. He should learn from you.”
The woman sitting on his other side laughs, leaning to see me better. I stare into her silver eyes, similar to Magnar’s. She is smaller than the Agnidari men, but her ears are larger, and her neck is very long. Gold earrings cascade down to the tops of her shoulders. Her hair is gray and gathered back, her face unlined just like Vardi’s.
“I apologize for my husband,” she says in a confident, strong voice. “Like Magnar’s, his manners are lacking. My name’s Kirita, my queen. It’s an honor to meet you.”
I smile gratefully and relax. This isn’t that different from royal court’s feasts, after all. Yes, Vardi was very forward in telling me Magnar’s judgment of me, but that used to happen at court, too. At least I know how to behave.
“Likewise, Kirita,” I say with a smile. “It’s a great pleasure to meet you.”
“How did you enjoy your bath?” she asks with a smile revealing hints of sharp teeth. “I admit, I bullied my husband until he found a way to install proper plumbing in these old walls. If I could, I’d spend all my days in the tub until my skin got all wrinkled.”
Not like court, then. This is nothing like my father’s feasts.
I do my best to smile, even though I don’t know how to answer her. Back home, the topic of personal hygiene was never discussed, and bringing it up was considered a great affront. I force myself to remember the Agnidari are different, and Kirita isn’t trying to insult me.
“I loved it, thank you,” I settle on saying, my thoughts a bit intrusive as I consider what else to add without mentioning anything rude or improper. “Very ingenious way to bring hot water straight to the tub. It was relaxing, and Khay…”
I break off, pressing my lips together in shame as my face heats. Now they know a man assisted me.Gods.This is why it’s not a proper topic for polite company. I stare at my plate, shiny and clean, and don’t know what else to say. Kirita makes an inquiring noise, waiting for me to continue, and I can’t force my tongue to move.
This is mortifying.
Magnar stirs on my other side, laying his hand on my thigh under the table. “My wife is too polite to say she’s starving,” he says, a noteof warning in his voice. “Let her eat and pester her later.”
I look up at him with an outraged gasp, but behind me, Kirita laughs good-naturedly, not at all offended. “Of course. Tuck in, you both. You need your strength to give us lots of plump little heirs.”
I’m still turned to Magnar, and he snorts out a quiet laugh when he sees the way my eyes widen in shock. Never, ever did I think I’d hear something like this in polite company.
“Breathe,” he mutters, leaning in. “Kirita means well. The future of the royal dynasty is a matter of public concern.”
